Welcome back! Thank you (merci beaucoup) for all of the reviews/tweets/messages, follows, and favourites! You guys are AWESOME! Now, I know it's been awhile, so here's a longer chapter.

My apologies for any mistakes; it's obviously a beast of a chapter, and honestly, I'm really just not in the mood to go over it again. Oh, and by mistakes, I mean grammatical and other related errors, not anything pertaining to the plot. Believe it or not, the plot is exactly how it needs to be. That said, have I told you guys how much I adore McSwarek? If not, I ship them 100%. Remember that, and be sure to read my A/N at the end of the chapter once you're done reading this update. Worried? Don't be, it's fine...

Also, I know the beginning of this chapter is incredibly odd, but there's a reason. So, ummm, enjoy? And, let me know what you think (should have some interesting reactions).

Recap: Andy wakes up in the hospital after having been shot in the back of the head – she soon discovers that she's suffering from severe memory loss and can only remember the events from the day of the accident. Andy's drawn to Sam, but is confused to learn that she's engaged to Luke, a man that made a really bad "first" impression on her. While at a scene, Sam buys a stuffed animal poodle that reminds him of his conversation with Andy at the hospital. He also promises her that he'll be at the hospital when she wakes up, even though he's had enough experience as a cop to know that things can always come up last minute. In the end, Sam is just barely able to keep his promise, but things quickly become tense with Andy. Although they manage to smooth things over, Luke tries to throw a wrench into the mix when he asks a nurse to restrict Sam's visitor access... The doctors notify Andy that she can start walking, so she gets Sam to accompany her. In the process, Sam almost kisses her - more than once - the most obvious and closest time being the last one. Andy is left completely confused when Sam suddenly backs off and pretends he's trying to examine her head injury instead. Andy is released from the hospital and is shocked to discover that she lives with Luke. Terrified, she texts and calls Sam for help, but in the end, still has to face Luke... She ends up falling asleep that night to Sam's voice on the phone. Luke takes Andy to The Penny, but she finds herself overwhelmed. Sam takes her to see her dad and then Frank. While at the station, Andy overhears Jerry talking on the phone and learns that Sam is going on a date. Andy leaves a very confused Sam standing in 15 Division's parking lot. He ends up backtracking and determines that Jerry did something to upset Andy, but his friend is hiding from him and when he goes to get answers from Andy the next day, she shuts him out completely. Friday rolls around and Sam finally learns (from Traci) that Andy's upset because she thinks Sam is going on a date. Sam's furious and a heartbroken Andy finds some comfort in Luke. When Andy can't seem to focus on studying for her police exam, she contacts Oliver, but he sends a completely oblivious Andy to Sam's house instead. Sam reveals that he was never going to go on a date with the woman Jerry tried to set him up with. The tension lifts and Andy admits that Luke's house and the engagement ring feel/seem wrong. After leaving the diner where they have lunch, Andy has a bit of a revelation... The next day, after studying for awhile, Sam finally tells Andy the academy story about Oliver. Sam goes to Luke's house to help Andy study more, but arrives to find her doing a taste-test of various sauces. Partway through the day, they go to see Tommy, who tells them stories about Andy's childhood. Sam and Andy end up slow dancing before returning to Sam's place to study more and watch some of Andy's favourite childhood movies.

Tuesday morning…

Darkness had long since encompassed Sam's house, creeping over it as the sun fell below the horizon. Inside, more black, except for the continuous flashing of images: the only source of light in the growing dark. To anyone passing by on the street, the place might look empty, like nobody was home. But, Sam was. Sitting on the couch in the living room, elbows propped up on his knees, he stared mindlessly at the TV, its loud humming slicing through the otherwise silent residence.

"There's no point," Sam muttered, the words tearing at his throat, clawing their way to the surface. "No point… to any of this." He let out a dry laugh, his head falling into his hands in defeat. "She's gone… back to him… to the same place she'll always go. It's done. Over."

"Over? Really, Sammy boy?" Oliver said from behind the couch as he lightly rested a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You know that's not true."

"Truest words I've ever spoken," Sam growled, his fingers curling into fists. The thought of her with Callaghan made his blood boil and his stomach churn. It was wrong. All wrong.

"Nonsense," Oliver replied, taking a step back and flicking on the lights as his eyes perused the room. "If you thought there wasn't a chance, you would've given up a long time ago."

Despite squinting against the sudden brightness, Sam's head snapped in Oliver's direction, only just realizing that he was no longer lost in his own thoughts, he was actually having a conversation with the man… except, this wasn't the Oliver he was used to seeing. As his friend joined him on the same side of the couch, Sam took in the floor-length dress and hooded cloak, his eyebrows shooting way up high. "What the hell are you wearing?"

Oliver waved a hand dismissively. "Better than what you're wearing, brother."

Eyes turning downward, Sam groaned. "I drank too much, passed out, and you dressed me up like an inmate?" His hands flew to his body, almost frantically patting down the material. There was nothing underneath. Nothing. Eyes narrowing, he added, "I know we're close, but I swear if you—" The rest of his words were cut off.

"A prisoner, trapped by your own stubbornness." There was a small pause, one that almost dared Sam to argue. "And I didn't dress you up like that. You did."

"Of course I did," Sam said sarcastically. "Next thing you know I'll be dressing up like Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny."

"And that's your problem, brother: your attitude. You don't think you can get her back, but you can."

"Stop," Sam said sharply, his frustration growing. "Just knock it off. I'm not in the mood, so just quit the crap and tell me what's going on."

"You're going to win McNally over, that's what," Oliver said, his lips curling upward in a smile. "You're going to go after her, and you're going to win her over."

Sam let out a loud breath. If only it was that simple. "No, I'm not."

"After the miracle I'm going to pull, you'd better go after her," Oliver said, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows before rubbing his palms together with an eagerness that made his friend want to hurl. It had nothing to do with the goal itself, but rather, the fact that it seemed so unattainable, and making it out to be anything other than that seemed like a setup for automatic failure.

"Miracle?" Sam said, eyebrow quirked. Sure, incredible things happened nearly everyday on the job, but being a cop also instilled the idea that life could be ugly. And it was. It wasn't a fairytale. Bad things happened all the time. People did stupid things, they screwed up, made bad decisions, were with the wrong person. And good people got hurt. Some even died. And, when it boiled down to it, a miracle was the thing he'd wished for as a kid, but never received. Instead, he got an abusive father, a sister who was raped, and a mother who was too scared to do anything. So, no, he, Sam Swarek, didn't really believe in miracles, though he supposed some might say that Andy McNally was his. But no, she wasn't – she couldn't be. McNally was lost. Gone. Never had her; never would. And nothing Oliver did could change that. No costume, no words, nothing. He bit back a sigh. "Buddy, you're out of your mind."

"Just you watch, Sammy," Oliver said, raising his hands high above his head, fully prepared to prove his friend wrong, or so he thought. A frown slowly spread across his face. He was missing something. Arms frozen in midair, he voiced his thought, "What on earth did I do with that magic wand?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"I was sure I…" Oliver began, his frown deepening as he tried to remember where he put the wand. His eyes flicked left and right. Nothing. "Hmmm, that's strange."

"Forget about the stupid wand," Sam said, a hint of frustration in his voice as he watched the fully grown man look under the couch and coffee table. "And put on some pants. You look like a cross between an elderly woman and a monk."

"Forget about the stupid wand?" Oliver echoed in disbelief. He stood up, straightening until he was at his full height, and peered over at his friend. "What kind of fairy godmother would I be without a wand?"

"Fairy godmother?" A loud laugh escaped Sam. "Did you pick up some extracurricular activities that I don't know about?" He's gotta be high… but, this is Ollie: a father, family man, not that kind of guy.

"Oh, I forgot," Oliver exclaimed, clapping his hands together. "I put it away." One hand shot upward again.

"Forgot is one word…" More like lost his marbles. What's he gonna do now, pull out a stick and yell 'Abracadabra'?

Oliver merely shook his head and revealed a long, thin object that Sam supposed could loosely pass as a wand. "Just pay attention… and let me think," Oliver chided, tapping the wand against his chin. "Let's see… the first thing you need is a… coffee table."

"I have one, right there," Sam said, nodding toward his.

Oliver rolled his eyes. "Now, the magic words," he continued, ignoring his friend.

"Can't forget those." It was dripping with sarcasm. Here we go. Abracadabra! Then the big shocker: nothing! Alright, move it along, Ollie. Say whatever you've gotta say and be done with it.

"Of course not. It wouldn't work otherwise," Oliver replied with a pointed look, both arms shooting upward and out. Then, in a higher pitched voice than Sam had ever heard come out of his friend, Oliver started singing:

"Salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
Put 'em together and what have you got
bibbidi-bobbidi-boo."

Sam's reaction was instantaneous – the laughter bubbled over, his entire body shaking as the scene unfolded before his eyes. "Buddy," Sam gasped between laughs. "It's okay, we'll get you some help," he choked out, but his next thought died on his lips as Oliver began to skip around the coffee table, wand waving left and right, and up and down in various patterns.

"Salagadoola mechicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
It'll do magic believe it or not
bibbidi-bobbidi-boo."

Tears threatened to spill over. It was just too much. But, in an instant, everything changed. Sam fell silent, his eyes wide as he stared at the empty space in front of him. "Where did my coffee table go?" He tentatively reached forward and waved his hand through the air in the spot where the table had been. Nothing. It was gone. Poof. Like it had never been there. "Ollie?"

"Your ride." The man continued singing – completely unfazed – wand now waving toward the armchair where a dog lay curled up.

Without thinking, Sam jumped to his feet and snapped, "Don't touch my dog." But, the second the words tumbled from his mouth, he froze. What? Since when do I have a dog? And why the hell did I get such a scruffy looking thing? He squinted as he tried to tell one end from the other. Where's its face? He laughed inwardly. McNally would... He cut the thought short. Andy wasn't here. She wasn't his. Maybe she didn't even know he had a dog. Hell, he didn't even know he had one until now. Seeing one end move – presumably the head – he took a step forward. Boo?

"Relax, Sammy, you need a driver," Oliver said with a smile, before singing another verse:

"Salagadoola means mechicka booleroo
But the thingmabob that does the job is
bibbidi-bobbidi-boo."

"Dogs don't drive," Sam said. Werewolves maybe, but that thing is definitely a mutt.

Oliver grinned. "And I'm thinking your future holds… children. Lots of children."

"I don't have a dog, and I sure as hell don't have any kids."

"Yet." Oliver gestured toward the far side of the room. "But one day..."

Sam's eyes darted to the other end of his living room, to where four children stood. "Four?" he said, eyes wide. "I don't even know if I could handle one."

Poof. The children vanished. "One day, Sammy boy... Maybe not four, but you'll want them," Oliver said with a knowing smile before a noise down the hallway had his brows furrowing. "Lucifer?" he yelled, head swinging left and right. "There you are," he said when Luke entered the living room. "What were you getting into this time?"

Before Luke could say a word, Sam cut in. "What the hell are you doing in my house?" The man had become something of a thorn in Sam's side, one he couldn't get rid of, and having the guy in his house now had his blood boiling. "Get out." He didn't care how rude he was being. The man was not welcome.

"Relax, Sammy, boy. He isn't in your future, or hers... at least, not in a big way. And tonight, he won't be an issue, I'll make sure of it," Oliver said with a small laugh, spinning around before singing the final verse:

"Salagadoola menchicka boola bibbidi-bobbidi-boo
Put 'em together and what have you got
bibbidi-bobbidi bibbidi-bobbidi bibbidi-bobbidi-boo."

When Luke vanished right before Sam's eyes, he looked over at Oliver and then the wand. "Can I have one of those?"

"You won't need one if you stop being so stubborn and tell her how you feel," Oliver replied, bopping Sam on the head. He then stepped back and looked at his friend from head to toe. "I must say, with a little bit of work, you clean up well."

Sam glanced down, a loud curse escaping him. He was decked out in a full suit. "What the hell did you just do? And how did you do that?" He shook his head, still completely bewildered by how it was all possible. "How are you doing any of this?" Changing his mind, he held up a hand to stop his friend from answering. "You know what? It doesn't matter. But, this whole changing business has to stop because I swear if you touched me either time—"

"Yeah, I stripped you down by hand and dressed you right back up," Oliver said sarcastically. "Now, can we please just focus? The spell will wear off at midnight, so if you don't hurry, you'll never reach her in time."

"At midnight, huh? Then what?" Sam asked, doubtfully. "I'm going to be stark naked, sitting on my coffee table?"

"Maybe," Oliver threatened.

"Okay, the joke is over, buddy," Sam said. "I don't know how you did this." He gestured to what he was wearing. "But it's done. We've had a few laughs, so let's call it a night."

Oliver thrust his wand forward, jabbing Sam hard in the shoulder. Once. Twice. Three times. "Stop moping and do something."

"I don't mope," Sam argued, the ridiculousness of the situation starting to wear on his patience again. "And I am doing something. Or I was, until you got here... How did you get in my house anyway?"

"Drinking beer, alone in the dark... You call that doing something? You call that not moping?" Oliver pressed, ignoring the actual question.

Sam shrugged. "You play dress-up and wave around wands; I sit on my couch and drink beer."

"This wand is going to get you your girl." Oliver jabbed his friend again. "Now go."

Throwing up his hands in defeat, Sam finally conceded. "Alright, fine. I'll humour you. I'll ride my coffee table to go see McNally."

Oliver slapped Sam on the back. "That's the spirit."

"I was kidding about the coffee table."

"I'm not," Oliver deadpanned, shoving Sam toward the front door and outside.

Arms folded across his chest, Sam asked, "So where is it, Ollie?"

"Right there."

"That's a limo. I meant what did you do with my coffee table?"

"And I said, it's right there," Oliver insisted, pointing his wand at the limo.

Sam let out a loud laugh. "Okay. How about this: I'll pretend my coffee table turned into a limo, and I'll take it to see McNally, but when I get back, I expect to see my actual table back where it belongs, got it?"

"Sure thing, brother," Oliver said with a smirk. "Now get going. You have less than an hour."

Shaking his head at the fact that he was actually going along with this madness, Sam walked toward the car, but not without pausing and saying, "You're lucky it wasn't my truck that you 'moved', Ollie. Otherwise I'd take that wand of yours and shove it—"

"Make sure you save some words for McNally," Oliver said with a grin on his face. Then, with a small wave, he added, "Nice words, Sammy. Use nice words."

"What, you aren't going to wave your wand again and—"

"Put the right words in your mouth?" Oliver said with a quirked eyebrow. "Of course not. You guys are messy. Complicated. If it came out sounding perfect, do you really think she'd believe you?"

Sam hesitated. Maybe Oliver had a point. The whole sharing feelings thing wasn't exactly his strong suit. He could show her how he felt in any number of ways, but putting it into words was an entirely different matter. In fact, when it came to verbalizing how he felt, he had a better chance of saying how he didn't feel than how he did. Like the time he told her that she wasn't his type. It wasn't about his innermost feelings – not that anything he really shared was – but it quickly became abundantly clear that she was most definitely his type. So, with him, it tended to be either the opposite, or indirect, like when he told her that she was too young to get married. He didn't really mean it, and she'd picked up on that too, but if he couldn't outright tell her that Luke was the wrong guy, then at least hinting that she should maybe slow things down and wait was better than nothing. With a resigned shrug of the shoulders, he got in the limo, his mind and heart racing the entire drive to her house.

"This is crazy," he muttered when less than twenty minutes later the car door swung open and the chauffeur – allegedly his dog, but in human form – stepped aside to let him out. Drawing in a deep breath, he clambered out, his eyes darting skyward as he slowly walked toward the house. "It isn't even a full moon," he said with a small laugh before growing serious once more. He hesitated outside the front door. What am I supposed to say to her? His lips twitched. Since when has that ever stopped me? I don't plan what to say, I just say it... Or not. He frowned. Maybe that's the problem. His thoughts were interrupted as the door swung open and a woman stepped out.

"Going in?" she asked, eyeing him for a moment.

He merely nodded, stepping aside to let her by before staring at the open doorway. Just go. What's the worst that could happen? ...She could laugh in my face... Yeah, okay, that would be bad. But, it's McNally. Again he hesitated. I could lose her... permanently. Drive a bigger wedge between us. Break up our partnership. He pinched the bridge of his nose. Just go. Hearing something or someone behind him, he drew in another deep breath and stepped inside, his eyes swinging left, then right in an attempt to find her.

The sight that met his eyes immediately had him groaning. The place was packed, yet as his eyes passed over the sea of faces, there were very few that he could even faintly recognize and fewer still that he could actually put a name to. Why does she have to be so likeable? he thought as he awkwardly made his way down the hallway. And why the hell did Oliver have to put me in this? I stick out like a sore thumb.

A loud laugh sounded from the room to Sam's left, causing his head to snap in that direction, even though a wall still blocked his view. Her. It's her. He took the few remaining steps, then rounded the corner, his eyes searching between bodies until they landed on her. A series of curses ran through his head. This is stupid. I let my dress-wearing, wand-waving best friend talk me into letting my dog chauffeur drive me to McNally's house in my coffee table limo, and for what? So I can stare at her like an idiot until she takes pity on me and starts rambling? Then what? I'm supposed to sweep her off her feet? Pull the carpet right out from under her idiot fiancé? Whisk her off to... to where? My house? I don't even have a stupid coffee table anymore. His hand immediately went to the collar of his shirt, nervously tugging on it as if it would somehow help. But, his problem wasn't with breathing. At least, it wasn't until her eyes trailed upward and landed on him. He blinked hard, his heart pounding heavily in his chest as perspiration formed on his skin. She doesn't look mad. Or disappointed. But... A body moved in front of him, blocking her from sight. Letting out a small growl, he tried to sidestep the man. Nothing. She was gone. Brows furrowed, he found himself frantically searching the faces for hers.

"You came."

His heart stopped, and despite his best attempt at keeping a neutral expression, his eyes widened and his lips twitched. She'd caught him off guard though. She'd approached him. She'd sought him out. Not the other way around. Still, he didn't want to get his hopes up with thinking about what it could mean. She might not even be talking to me.

"I didn't think you would…" Her tone was soft, but there was an unusual shyness to it as well, especially when the next words tumbled out. "Didn't think it was your kind of thing, but I was hoping you'd come anyway."

Sam slowly turned, his lips curling upward when her warm brown eyes met his. Then, ever so slowly, her eyes trailed downward, taking in his attire. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a little self-conscious.

"You look..." she began before falling silent, one hand tentatively reaching up and resting on his right arm before a blush crept into her cheeks and she yanked her hand back. "...good," she choked out, her blush growing another shade darker.

He couldn't help but stare at her for a moment, surprised by her reaction to him. Did Oliver hit her on the head with his wand? Shaking the thought, he gave her a dimpled smile. He wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, and not just because she'd said something to him, but because he meant it. Except, the words seemed to get stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. Still, he opened his mouth in an attempt to force them out, knowing that he had to say something. He just wasn't prepared for what actually came tumbling out. "Where's your fiancé?"

Andy quirked an eyebrow. "What?"

He hesitated. "Where's Callaghan?"

"I don't know, I think Jo said he's working."

"Rosati?" Sam asked. If Jo is here, then that means she isn't working with Callaghan, so then why does she know, but Andy doesn't?

"Yeah, you know, blonde, female, Luke's girlfriend. Ringing any bells?" Andy said, giving him a weird look.

"Jo is Callaghan's girlfriend?" Sam said rather slowly, eyebrows furrowed. Is this a joke?

"Are you feeling okay?" Andy asked with a small laugh.

She's serious. "But he..." Unable to get the words out, he waved a hand around, indicating that Homicide touched her. "And..." He gestured toward her mouth, trying to indicate that he'd seen them kiss.

"Flirts?" Andy asked. "Well, yeah, even you told me he picks a new rookie every year." She shrugged. "It's a little weird, but I guess some habits just die hard. But..." She gestured toward her mouth. "That doesn't happen. I think I'd sock him if he ever tried."

"So...?" He fell silent. Sure, he was taking some time to himself, but how did all of this happen so quickly? None of it made sense. "When did it happen?"

"Luke and Jo?"

"And you and Callaghan?" Sam asked before he could stop himself.

"Taking a sudden interest in Homicide?" Andy teased. When Sam didn't respond, she sighed and said, "Luke and Jo just kind of happened. Recently, I think, but I don't know. And Luke and I have always been good friends, you know that."

His eyebrows shot upward. "Friends?"

"Yeah, you know, like a slightly more mature version of the relationship I have with Dov and Chris and..." She fell silent.

"But you were engaged to him...?" Sam prodded, his eyes glued to her face.

"Who?"

"Callaghan," he said, a hint of frustration in his voice.

A loud laugh escaped her, drawing several sets of eyes in their direction. "Really, Sam? What's gotten into you? I assure you, I have never been engaged to Luke or to any other man."

"Yes, you have."

"Really?" Andy asked, staring at him in disbelief. "Because I'm pretty sure I'd know if someone proposed to me."

He scratched the back of his head. If Callaghan and Rosati were really together and Andy had never been with Homicide... Nope, doesn't make sense. Ollie hit her. Bopped her on the head so hard she doesn't even remember being engaged... "Never?"

"No," she replied, giggling.

Once again, she seemed sincere. Did Oliver know? He couldn't have. Not if he was talking to me about winning her over. Unless... Sam inwardly groaned. 'A prisoner, trapped by your own stubbornness.' Those were the words Oliver used. And when Ollie was talking about winning Andy over, he didn't mean from Callaghan. It was about putting aside my own stubbornness, doubt, and everything else that might prove problematic and fighting for what I wanted... her. He hesitated. But then why did he get rid of Homicide? He mentally shrugged. Because Callaghan can't be trusted... The guy would probably hit on Andy, even with Jo around... I'd probably want to punch him if he got too close to McNally. That, and apparently I'm having all of these hallucinations about them being together. He forced the thoughts away. Time was limited.

"Maybe we should get some air?" Andy suggested, eyeing him with a concerned look on her face.

Sam merely nodded, still trying to digest everything. Despite what he thought he knew, Andy wasn't engaged; she wasn't even with Luke, though the man apparently still flirted with her. The thought had his fingers curling to make fists, but just seconds later, Andy's hands were in his and he felt himself relax.

She smiled up at him, then guided him through the throng of people and out the front door. "It's suffocating in there," Andy said, hands still holding his even after they stepped out into the fresh air.

"There are a lot of people," he agreed. "Didn't realize you had this many friends."

She snorted. "Most of them are my dad's buddies... coppers from the good old days as he calls it." Andy smirked. "It was supposed to be a few people over, but it turned into this massive thing. It's like a reunion or something, except more than half the people have never met." She sat down on the front steps and gently tugged Sam down with her, smiling over at him when he turned to look at her. "I'm glad you came."

"I know, you told me already," he said, smirking. He still wasn't sure what was going on, but he wasn't about to push things further. If Andy wasn't with Callaghan, that was perfectly fine with him. He certainly wasn't about to put the idea in her head anymore than he already had.

There was a long stretch of silence, but it was by no means an uncomfortable one.

"I missed you," she finally whispered, catching him off guard again. "I didn't know where you went."

"Needed a day," Sam replied, his voice unusually quiet. "...to clear my head." Truth was, they'd both needed a day apart, but why, he couldn't seem to remember.

Her gaze shot out to the street. "Did I do something wrong?"

He stared over at her, his expression softening even more upon hearing the worry in her voice. "No," he said softly, his free hand slowly rising. It hovered midair for a moment as he gauged her reaction, then moved forward to gently angle her head back toward his. Hearing her breath hitch, he smiled, a strange sense of daring filling him. "McNally," Sam said, his fingers darting a little further to tuck some hair behind her ear. Now was his chance. She was here and she seemed to want him here too. And he had her alone, no distractions. "I..." He drew in a deep breath, letting his palm slide to cup her cheek, and relishing in the warmth that radiated from her soft skin. Okay, maybe the whole no distractions thing wasn't true. She was a distraction. The light blue, summery-looking dress she was wearing was distracting. So were her long, tanned legs. Warm brown eyes. Soft hair. Lips. "I haven't been completely honest with you."

"Neither have I," she said quietly, her eyes slowly trailing up to his.

Wait, what? "I…"

"I want you to kiss me, Sam, " Andy whispered, leaning her cheek ever-so-slightly into his hand.

His eyes widened. "You…?"

She nodded, a shy look making its way onto her face. "I want to feel it again." Her free hand rose to his chest where it settled over his heart.

In a bid to comply, he slid closer to her on the step until their thighs touched. The contact had a shiver running through her. But he wasn't immune either. His heart rate had skyrocketed. "Andy," he breathed, the hand that was holding hers shifting to her hip and unconsciously tugging.

The simple gesture had her entire body moving, her arms snaking up behind his neck as her legs came to straddle his.

Sam swallowed hard, his gaze darting down to the extra skin revealed from her dress riding up, before his eyes made their way back up to hers. "You're sure?" he choked out, the hand on her face awkwardly sliding behind her neck, both hands already trying to pull her body flush up against his. Easy there. Slowly. It isn't a race. He hesitated. Actually, that's exactly what it was: a race against time. At least, it was according to Oliver.

"Positive."

"If we do this, there's no going back." Just shut up and kiss her already.

"I don't wanna go back," she whispered.

With a small nod, he dipped his head and captured her lips, feeling her smile into him as he placed a tender kiss there. Followed by another, and another, until the arms around his neck tightened and her tongue flicked out across his lips. The kiss deepened. He could feel the heat radiating off of her. It was comforting. Reassuring. And he didn't want to let her go.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He pulled away. What the hell is that? And then it clicked. "It's… it's midnight?"

"Yeah," she said, glancing at her watch before drawing him back in for another kiss.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He could feel everything around him slipping away. "No," he breathed, his grip tightening in an attempt to keep her there. The kiss became more desperate. "McNally…"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Sam?"

He had to say it now... before it was too late. "I… I lo…"

Beep. Beep. Beep.

"McNally," Sam cried out, jerking upward in his bed, his hands sprawling outward to grab her, but finding a pile of sheets and a pillow instead. He drew in a shaky breath, his eyebrows knitting together as the final remnants of sleep vanished. What the hell…?

Beep. Beep. Beep.

A loud groan escaped him as his gaze shifted to the source of the noise... his alarm clock. Why the hell did I think it was a good idea to pick up a shift today? Oh yeah, maybe because I almost kissed McNally yesterday, freaked her out, and she decided she needed a last minute girls' day with Nash. And he got it, he really did. Even he felt like maybe a day apart would help him clear his head, but if his messed up dream was any indication as to how his day would go, then he was doomed. And of course Callaghan decided to pick up a shift too, so lucky me, I get to spend yet another day trying to ignore the Golden Boy.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

He let out a frustrated sigh, then leaned over and smacked the button on the alarm clock to turn it off. It was just a dream, he thought as he dry scrubbed his face with his hands. But man, it felt so real. Kissing her. The way her lips felt. That seemed so real. The rest, not so much, but everything about her: the way she looked, smelled, tasted, felt, it was all so right. It was her. Except, it wasn't. It was all part of a dream... Just stop. Stop thinking about it. Don't go there, don't dwell on it, just let it go. With another groan, he swung his legs over the side of the bed. This wasn't even the first time he'd dreamt about her, albeit, the others weren't quite this bizarre. Actually, they tended to be pretty normal in his books. Well, maybe not normal. Some of them were more... heated. None of that weird wand stuff. I'm never watching Cinderella again, he thought as he pushed himself up off the bed, tugging his t-shirt over his head as he headed for the bathroom.

Once in front of the mirror, he stopped, his eyes moving until they landed on the reflection of his shoulder. No bruises. He inwardly laughed. Of course there aren't any. Oliver wasn't actually poking me. It was a dream. Just a stupid, messed up dream. His gaze shifted upward, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes, the scruff, and the grim expression. Was the whole situation really screwing with him that badly? To the point where he looked like he hadn't slept in days? And, so much so that a pre- and post-accident reality and mentality were colliding with his desires and causing his mind to spiral back to a day when there may have been flirting but nothing had actually transpired between Andy and Homicide? Letting out a loud curse, he completely stripped down and climbed in the shower.

"Shake it off," Sam said, letting one hand fall against the shower wall. Then, leaning against it, he lowered his chin and let the hot water run from the top of his head, down his face, willing it to wash away the remnants of the dream. But, it didn't. Ever since she'd kissed him the night of the blackout, her lips and the feel of her warm body were engrained in his mind. It was probably what made every dream with her in it feel so real. Simultaneously, it was, without a doubt, what made waking up feel like a solid punch to the gut, at best... every single time. Because, when it came down to it, no matter what happened in his dreams, when he woke up, she wasn't his and never had been.

Traci slid a glass of wine across the counter toward Andy, eyeing her friend as she said, "Not that I wasn't up for a girls' day, but you seemed a little anxious on the phone last night."

Andy bit down on her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth before forcing a nervous smile as her only response.

"Something happen last night with… Luke?" Traci prodded.

"Umm," Andy began, then closed her mouth, shook her head, and reached for the glass of wine. Although she couldn't be sure, it seemed like Traci was trying to gradually ease into a different conversation, one that had absolutely nothing to do with Luke. And, Andy just wasn't sure if she was ready to have it, even if it was the main reason for the somewhat last minute hangout. "This is good," she said after taking a sip of the liquid. It was different, but there was definitely something about it that was appealing.

"It was your favourite," Traci replied, then seeing her friend take another sip, added, "Easy though, it isn't juice."

Setting the glass back down on the counter, Andy drew in a deep breath and let her eyes settle on the other woman. She might not be ready, but Andy needed to know. "We talked about pretty much everything, right?"

"Pretty much," Traci agreed.

"So, umm... so we talked about personal stuff, like uh... well, like relationships?"

"Yeah," Traci said slowly.

Andy nodded, though she still hesitated. Sure, she'd asked some questions before, but what she wanted to know required her to be more direct and that meant revealing far more of her thoughts than she had since waking up in the hospital. And given that she hadn't fully worked out what it all meant yet, she was terrified. "What did I see in Luke?"

Traci's eyebrows rose, while her mouth fell open. "Sweetie, I don't know if I'm the right person to answer that."

"I need help," Andy said, her tone pleading. "I need to know. Please."

The response was hesitant. "He was the safe choice."

"The safe choice?" Andy echoed, frowning. "You said that at the hospital, but what does that even mean?"

"It means you had a thing for bad boys, it didn't quite pan out, and you thought Luke was the right choice… that he was the safe choice… the guy who wouldn't hurt you." Traci paused. "And at first, I thought you were right. I even encouraged you to go out with him."

Andy's heart was pounding heavily in her chest. "At first?" Did I make a mistake?

"He cares about you a lot," Traci said. "But, he's not the only one."

Before she could stop herself, Andy blurted out, "Sam?"

"Sam," Traci agreed with a nod, a small smile tugging at her lips.

"So he…?" She bit down on her lower lip again, feeling like she'd gotten on a roller coaster ride for the umpteenth time since the hospital. But, it was more than that. It was like her car on the ride was starting its ascent before she'd even had a chance to fully secure herself to it, and that at any given moment, she could fall off... tumble to her death. There was an intense fear that one wrong move could lead to her impending doom, whatever that was... And yet, there was also an excitement, a nervousness, and a different kind of fear leading up to it, not knowing what was going to happen or when. Highs. Lows. Sharp turns. Loops. The whole shebang. And it was like a continuous cycle, her thoughts, beliefs, and feelings being jerked one way before being yanked in the other direction. It was exhausting and, quite frankly, more than a little frustrating, especially when her mind turned to her relationships, her "romantic" one in particular. It seemed like for the hundredth time she was calling into question what she truly thought and felt: if Luke really was the right guy for her, or if there was more to her feelings for Sam... whatever those feelings were. But every time her mind wandered in that direction, she felt like she was going through a loop, wondering if Sam actually cared about her as a friend, or more than one. After all, whenever she thought she knew how he felt, something he did or said made her think otherwise. Point blank, her mind was reeling. And the more she went over things in her head, the worse it got, to the point where not only did she have no recollection of things, she also felt like she was losing her grasp on reality... what little she knew of it. Which brought her to today, drinking wine in Traci's kitchen on a dreary Tuesday afternoon.

"Seriously?"

Andy hesitated. "Well, it's just... Okay, I know he likes me, that we're friends or whatever." She rolled her eyes. "But..."

"But...?" Traci pressed.

"I swear I'm losing my mind, Traci." Andy let out a loud breath, dropping her head into her hands before letting her fingers rake through her hair. When her gaze finally settled back up on her friend, she shook her head. "There are just these moments where everything feels so right, like I know exactly where things stand and how they should be."

"So what's the problem?"

"The problem?" There was a small pause. "One second everything seems so obvious, so tangible, and the next second it's like everything I think or feel isn't real. Like it's all just a figment of my imagination."

"Like how you feel about Sam? How you guys are with one another?"

"What?"

"Oh come on Andy, it's written all over your face. And I'm sure Luke sees it too," Traci said with a pointed look.

With a sigh, Andy relented. "After yesterday, regardless of what it actually was or wasn't, I umm..." She swallowed hard, a wave of nerves crashing over her. "I think I have a problem." She took another sip of wine, feeling her cheeks warm as she thought about the day before.

Traci's eyebrows knit in confusion. "What happened yesterday?"

"Well, I don't think it was just yesterday, except it kind of was. I mean, I think it made me realize something... something that I maybe knew before, but didn't want to admit. Not because it's not true. At least, I don't think so. But, man I'm so confused. And it's all so wrong."

"Sweetie, just take a deep breath and tell me what it is. It can't be that bad."

Still, the rambling continued, as if Traci hadn't spoken at all. "Or maybe it's because I don't remember Luke, but I remember Sam from the day of the accident. I just don't know. But even with realizing there's something there, I don't know what it is. I mean, I do, but I don't. I just..."

"Andy...?"

"I think he tried to kiss me." The words tumbled out of her mouth so quickly that they sounded jumbled.

"What?"

"Sam." This time a deep blush crept into her cheeks, and not even the wine glass blocking part of her face could stop it from showing.

"Tried?"

"I think so. I mean, we were on the couch and he... he was right there. And I... I could feel his breath on my face, and... and his heart, and... I'm telling you, I'm going crazy. But, I swear if Luke hadn't called, Sam was going to kiss me, and I know it sounds ridiculous because we're just partners or friends or whatever..."

"No, it doesn't."

"But the craziest thing is, I don't think I was going to stop him," Andy barrelled on, her friend's words not registering yet. "Actually, I think I kind of wanted him to... to, you know." She downed half the glass of wine. "And I know how bad that sounds, and yeah, I'm a horrible person. Horrible. I mean, I'm... I'm engaged to Luke. I'm supposed to marry him one day, and... and I can't help but feel..." She paused for a fraction of a second, Traci's words finally piercing her own thoughts. 'No, it doesn't.' "Wait, what?"

"It's not crazy," Traci said, unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face. "Sam wanted to kiss you, and you wanted him to. The crazy part is that you still haven't done it yet."

All Andy could do was stare at her friend.

"Look sweetie, you're obviously smitten with him. And he's... well, he's in a tough place too. You're living with another man..."

"I need to move," Andy said quietly, eyes widening slightly at the admission. It wasn't the first time the thought had crossed her mind, but it was the first time she'd felt certain that it was the right thing to do.

"Because of Sam?"

Andy shook her head. "I think I just need some time and space to figure things out, you know?"

"Because Sam almost kissed you?" Traci tried again.

"No, not exactly. It's because this," Andy said, holding up her left hand to show the ring. "… says I'm engaged to Luke, to a guy who's sweet and caring, and dedicated to his job." She let out a loud breath. "But Sam… I just." She squeezed her eyes shut tight for a brief moment. "I like being around him, and it feels right. I feel…" She wet her lips, then tried a different approach. "Luke's a good guy. I like him, maybe even a lot. It just doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense. This ring. The way I feel. Who I am."

"Like your head is saying one thing, but your heart is saying another?"

Andy nodded.

"Did you tell Sam or Luke about wanting to move?"

"No."

"Why not?" Traci asked.

Andy shook her head.

"Andy...?"

"Has there always been a thing...?"

"With Sam?" Assuming she was right, Traci nodded without even waiting for a response as to who was actually meant. "Yeah, that thing has always been there. The intense stares, intimate gestures when he thinks nobody's looking. Yeah. And honestly, I'm surprised you lasted this long. That you didn't see it before."

"But is something wrong with me?" Andy asked quietly. "Marrying one guy, but feeling jealous at the thought of another one seeing someone else…? Marrying one guy, but feeling something for another?"

"Nothing's wrong with you," Traci assured her. "Maybe you're just starting to realize what you'd be denying before."

"Which is?" Andy's heart was racing as she awaited her friend's answer. She had a pretty good idea what was coming, but the thought also terrified her.

"That you're in love with Sam."

As much as she wanted to deny it and say that she didn't know how she felt, Andy couldn't because as wrong as it sounded, it also seemed very right. So, she said nothing at all, and instead set her wine glass on the counter with a loud clink, then slid it in Traci's direction, thankful when her friend silently refilled it. Glass now re-acquainted with her hand, she lifted it and took several large gulps before setting it back down again. "Did umm, did anything ever happen... with Sam?"

Traci hesitated. "Once." She paused. "There was a blackout. You had a rough shift, and—"

"Because I shot someone?" Andy asked. "And… and he died?"

"Yeah," Traci replied, frowning. "How did you—?"

"Sam."

"Okay, well, umm, instead of being there for you, Luke decided to pick up the case... he chose to take the extra work."

"So I turned to Sam?" Andy asked slowly, her heart rate bumping up another notch.

"From what you told me, yeah," Traci said. "Not right away, but you needed someone and you ended up going to him."

"And?"

"And you kissed him."

Andy's jaw dropped. "I was with Luke, but I kissed Sam?"

"You and Luke, you weren't exactly exclusive, but yeah, you kissed Sam," Traci confirmed. "Made it all the way up to his bedroom… to his bed… and then the power came back on and Luke called."

"So we didn't…?" The feeling of disappointment that filled her at that moment left her feeling a little disturbed.

"Sleep together? No, not from what you told me," Traci said. "But you also said what happened that night with Sam was the best mistake of your life."

Andy downed the rest of her wine and slid the glass back over to Traci, gratefully accepting the refill. Best mistake of my life. If it was the best mistake of my life then why was I still with Luke? Did Sam just want sex, but nothing beyond that? Or was it me? No, I went to him. I kissed him. But, how does that even make sense? "And after that?"

"It's complicated, Andy," Traci said.

Unable to stop the questions from coming now, Andy barrelled on. "Did he think it was a mistake?"

"I doubt it," Traci replied. "If he did, then do you really think he'd be helping you with everything now? And do you really think he would've tried to kiss you again?"

"But, he hasn't actually..." She fell silent. If he didn't think it was a mistake, why didn't anything happen after?

"The timing has never been right… I guess. And after the blackout, you chose Luke because you thought he was the safer choice. So, maybe Sam's afraid you'll do the same thing again this time."

"But—?"

"Look, Andy, the thing about Sam is that he's not the guy we originally thought he was," Traci continued. "He wants you to be happy, even if it means he isn't."

"So..." Andy began a little hesitantly. "Was I wrong?"

Traci stared at her friend for a long moment. "Do you think you made the wrong choice?"

"I think I need my own place," Andy replied, still trying to process everything the other woman had told her. "Time and space to figure everything out." She let out a loud breath. "But right now, I need another drink."

Later that day…

"Just stay here," Traci said, casting a worried glance at her friend.

"Is he here?" Andy asked, a goofy grin on her face as she peered at 15 Division through the passenger side window.

"Just… just stay, okay? I'll only be a few minutes."

Ignoring the other woman, Andy flung the car door open – nearly hitting the vehicle beside it – and stumbled out. "Oops." Slamming the door shut, she whirled around, her hands immediately sprawling out across the side of the silver truck in an attempt to look for any damage. And that's when she realized that it wasn't just any silver truck... Her face lit up. "Sam's here."

"Andy, get back in the car," Traci hissed, quickly running around to the other side.

"He would freeeeeeeeeeeak if I hurt his baby," Andy said, a nervous giggle escaping her as her fingers trailed along the body of the vehicle. "Do you think Sam wants real babies?"

"How about you get back in the car and ask him when you see him?"

"I just wanna… I want… Saaaaaaaaam."

"I know, sweetie," Traci replied, oblivious to the fact that her friend had just spotted Sam coming out of 15 Division.

"He…" Andy giggled again. "He looks good in uniform. And out of it."

Traci's eyes flicked over to her friend, eyebrows shooting way up. "What did you just say?"

Running her tongue along her teeth, Andy replied, "I said he looks good out of it... Like, naked."

"Girl, have you been keeping something from me?" Traci asked, mouth now open in shock.

Angling her body toward the centre of the parking lot, Andy took a step forward, but stumbled. Again, her hands shot outward, using both vehicles to stop herself from falling, though the laughter that now tore through her body had her doubled over just seconds later, her knees threatening to give out beneath her. "He..." Andy gasped, before forcing herself back into an upright position, a grin on her face. "He wasn't wearing a shirt."

Traci whirled around, her eyes scanning the parking lot until they landed on Sam. "Swarek," she yelled, waving him over.

Sam hesitantly made his way toward them, quirking an eyebrow at Traci, and wondering why on earth she brought Andy to the station.

"Why's she talking about you being naked?"

The coffee he'd just taken a sip of immediately came spraying out. "What?" he choked out, wiping his mouth with one hand, while he set his coffee in the bed of his truck with the other.

"What did you do?"

He stared at Andy. "I didn't do anything." Did I? Hell, who cares? At least she isn't talking about Callaghan being… He cut the thought short, not wanting that image in his head.

"Sam didn't do anything, silly," she said rather loudly. "But he's like this close." She held her thumb and forefinger close together to show them. "But... but I walked in on him…"

Realizing what she was talking about, Sam's tongue darted to the inside of his cheek. Oh. That. His lips curled upward, despite his attempt to stop them. Her reaction to walking in on him had been priceless, and the fact that she clearly hadn't forgotten that little incident had his mood lifting.

"Swarek?" Traci said, eyes shifting between Sam and Andy.

"Like McNally said, she walked in on me," Sam replied with a small shrug, his tone so casual it nearly had Andy doubled over with laughter again.

"You should…" Andy began, then frowned. Wait, I don't want Traci to see him naked. I don't want anyone to. "You should not try it sometime."

Sam smirked, his mind instantly going back to how jealous she'd been when Jerry had tried to set him up on a date. Clearly, some things hadn't changed. Unable to resist, he teased her. "Yeah, McNally, here seems to get jealous at the thought of other women looking at me."

Andy folded her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed. "I do not." Liar. No, no. I'm not lying. What if... what if he starts seeing someone? No, no, no... He's not yours. No. It doesn't matter. Liar. It does so. Why's he looking at me like that? Ugh, those eyes. And dimples. His lips look so soft. I wonder if I just... No. Bad. Stop.

"So you wouldn't mind if I took a peek?" Traci teased.

"You have your Jerry Barber guy," Andy said, her tone a little sharper and her posture a little more defensive. One look at her and it was obvious: the way her face scrunched up suggested she still hadn't gotten over what had happened with Jerry, but more than that, it was clear that she in no way appreciated Traci's joke. Not one bit.

"And you have your Luke Callaghan guy," Traci challenged. "Don't you?"

"I… uh… I…" Andy let out a frustrated sigh, her teeth grinding together as she glared at her best friend. But, feeling Sam's eyes on her, she found her attention being redirected, the tension falling from her shoulders as she stared into his brown orbs. Feeling traces of a smile start to reappear on her face, she blurted out, "Traci said you want to have my babies."

Sam's eyebrows shot upward, a loud laugh escaping him. With a quick glance downward, he said, "Last time I checked I was still a guy, McNally. And I know you didn't see everything, but—"

"I meant..." Her palm came up to smack her forehead, a loud grown simultaneously escaping her.

Trying to withhold another laugh, Sam suggested, "Traci said you want to have my babies?"

"Yes... No." Andy shook her head, another giggle escaping. "Traci said you want me to have your babies."

"Okay, that's not what I said," Traci cut in. "And you..." She gave Andy a pointed look, though she too was having trouble keeping a straight face. "You and I, are talking after." Turning back to Sam, she asked, "Can you watch her for a minute? I have to run inside and grab something."

"Uh…" Sam said, glancing over at Andy. It was one thing being around her while she was drunk but in the presence of someone else, but he'd been watching her pretty closely and the way she was looking at him had his insides squirming. So, being alone with her, even if it was still out in the parking lot, was an entirely different matter.

"Thanks," Traci said, and without waiting for a proper response, she dashed off.

Sam drew in a deep breath as he turned back to face Andy. "Had a good day so far, McNally?"

"Uh huh," she hummed.

"I see you decided to test some alcohol," he continued, trying to keep up their usual bantering as he attempted to get a better sense of where exactly they stood.

"No," she replied, her entire body shaking with laughter as her head swung left and right, looking for any bottles that may have tipped him off. Not seeing any, she said, "Nope," and shot him a smile despite her confusion. How does he know? Is he reading my mind? Sam? Are you in my head?

"No?" he pressed, quirking an eyebrow. She was definitely drunk. Between the laughter, glossy eyes, and slightly slurred words, it was undeniable, though she apparently didn't think so. When her gaze started veering off to the side, he said her last name.

Andy's head snapped in his direction, almost immediately falling victim to another fit of giggles. "You can arrest me if you want... for... for impeding an investigation."

His eyes widened. "You want me to arrest you?"

She nodded.

"And what investigation is that?" he pressed, tongue darting to the inside of his cheek again.

Andy opened her mouth to respond, but quickly closed it, her head bobbing up and down a few times as lyrics from a song she'd heard in Traci's car drifted into her head. "Now that I've triiiied to talk to you and make you understaaand," she sang, biting back a laugh at the look on Sam's face. "Aaaall you have to do is close your eyes, and just reach out your haaand." She took a step toward him, reaching for his hand and linking their fingers together. "Aaaand touch meeee, hold me close, don't ever let me gooooo." Despite her voice going deeper, her volume went up a notch as her other hand moved to his chest, her fingers sliding down several inches before stopping. "Mooore than wooooords." Hand flicking upward, the tips of her fingers settled on his lips. "Is all I ever needed you to show. Then you wouldn't have to saaaay, that you love meeeee, cuz I'd alreaaaaaady knoooooooooooow." She grinned up at him and stumbled back, though her left hand still clutched his as the next lyric burst forth. "What would you do, if my heart was torn in two?" She drew in a quick breath. "Moooore than woooooooooords to show you feeeeeel that your love for me is reaaal." Having forgotten the rest of the song, she momentarily fell silent, before stepping back toward him. "I want you," she said. "...to..." She grew quiet again, eyes slowly trailing up to his. And when they met, her entire demeanour changed. "I missed you today," Andy whispered, practically flinging herself at Sam, hand releasing his as her arms wrapped around his neck in an attempt to keep him close.

"I—"

A small giggle escaped her. "Do you think I'm pretty?"

Sam froze, his mind racing as her breath fanned out on his neck. Is this going to turn into another song, or is she serious? When she remained silent, he swallowed hard. "Yes."

Andy tilted her head back up, eyes meeting his again with a trace of a smile on her lips. "You think I'm gorgeous?"

Eyes still locked with hers, he found himself automatically replying. "Yes."

"You do?" she whispered, her smile growing.

His gaze shifted down to her lips. "Yes," he replied just as quietly.

Her smile widened a little more before the laughter bubbled over, more words from the movie, Miss Congeniality – that she'd watched with Traci just hours before – coming to mind. "You think I'm gorgeous. You think I'm gorgeeeeous. You want to kiss me. You want to huuuuug me. You want to loooooove me." It came out in a playful tone.

Sam's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. What?

"Traci," Andy yelled, eyes peering over Sam's shoulder in an effort to find her friend. "She knows how it goes... I don't remember… I don't remember the rest." She stepped back and started pacing, or rather, stumbling back and forth as she racked her brain.

"What?" Sam said, bewildered.

"Except he didn't do it right either," she muttered, frowning. "He was supposed to kiss her."

"McNally, what are you talking about?" And, wait, 'either'?

"Movie… She said… you think I'm gorgeeeeeeous," Andy said, turning back to Sam and poking him hard in the chest. "And you want to huuuuug me." She stepped toward him again, her hands sliding to his biceps. "You want to kiiiiiiiiiiss me." She bit down on her lower lip as she inched forward again, arms now wrapping around his neck for a second time. "Do you?" she whispered, her lips finding their way closer to his.

"McNally," Sam warned, trying to step away, but her hold on him remained firm. And just like that, a situation which had started off seeming funny, and even reassuring, turned into something else entirely... something far more serious. Worse still, he knew it was only a matter of time before his control completely slipped, and as much as he wanted her, this was wrong. "You're drunk," he said, his heart racing. "You're not yourself."

"I don't even know who I am, Sam," Andy said with a laugh. Her lips moved closer, breath fanning out across his face. "But I think you do," she whispered. "I think you know exactly who I am, what I want… Don't you?"

He sucked in a sharp breath as her mouth shifted toward his ear, his heart stopping when he felt her lips brush up against his jaw. "Andy," he breathed. She's drunk. She's with Callaghan. This is wrong. I need to push her away, stop her, before it's too late... if it isn't already. When her lips started moving back toward his, his hands finally rose to stop her. "McNally," he said sharply.

"What?" she whined.

"I can't," Sam said quietly. "We can't."

"But I know you want to."

He tightened his grip on her in an attempt to keep her still, finding it more difficult to resist her with each passing moment, yet also feeling more confident that he was doing the right thing. "Not like this."

Andy's brown orbs shot up to his, tears pricking them. He doesn't want me. He's... he's rejecting me. I thought... Mentally shaking herself, she took a step back, struggling to blink back the tears and hide the hurt that was so evident on her face. But, despite her trying to put some space between them, he didn't let go.

"McNally," Sam said, his tone much softer this time.

She shook her head, her mind whirling as she struggled to push aside the alcohol induced haze and see through her confusion. He shut me down. After everything... "Tell me I'm wrong," Andy said, her tone a mixture of pain and anger. "Tell me I'm imagining things. That there's nothing there. That yesterday was all in my head."

"You're drunk," Sam said quickly, still holding her in place.

"I'm fine."

"No, you aren't," Sam argued. "You drank too much and—"

"Don't touch me," she snapped, tears spilling down her face as embarrassment flooded her. "Please, just... just don't." This time it came out as a sob.

With a quick glance around the parking lot, Sam backed her into the side of his truck and blocked her in with both arms. "We're not doing this here." His voice was firm, but quiet.

"Fine... just move," Andy pleaded, the pain in her chest growing. She needed to go before she completely broke down in front of him. Or worse, before she said or did something she didn't mean.

"Look at me," Sam said, his right hand shifting to cup her face. When she immediately turned her cheek the other way, he lifted his left hand, holding her head between his palms and keeping her face directed toward him. "McNally, listen... You drank a little too much, and you aren't thinking clearly right now." Or maybe, for the first time in a long time, she actually is, he thought. Either way, he wasn't going to let her do something she might regret.

"I can't," she whispered, squeezing her eyes shut tight. "I can't do this. I just... I need to go. Please. Let me go."

I did this to her, he thought, with a pang of guilt. Then, without thinking, he ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, caressing them, but also wiping away each tear. I need you to understand, McNally. I need you to look at me. Look at me and see what I can't say. But, she didn't. So, swallowing hard, he said, "Traci's going to drive you home, you're going to drink some water, and then you're going to sleep this off. And when you're thinking clearly, we'll... we'll talk about this, okay?"

"There's nothing to talk about," Andy said, her voice cracking. "I've embarrassed myself enough."

"So maybe your singing was a little off key," Sam said, desperate to see her smile again. She didn't. Instead, Andy seemed to renew her effort at putting space between them, starting with prying his hands from her face. Not wanting to hurt her, he let his hands finally fall away, but the second she tried to bolt, he swept her up in his arms. "It's not what you think," he said quietly, holding her tight. "Whatever you're thinking right now, that's not... it's not right."

She struggled for another moment before her entire body seemed to sag in defeat, and her head fell against his shoulder. "I don't know what to think," she whispered.

"I know," he breathed, his chin coming to rest on top of her head. The smell of her shampoo met his nostrils, making his grip on her unconsciously tighten. "But don't push me away."

"I don't want to, but I'm scared, Sam. Terrified. And, I think I'm going crazy," she croaked out as her arms slowly rose and wrapped around him.

"Shhh," he said, one hand running up and down her back in a soothing manner. "You're not going crazy, and there's nothing to be scared of. Got it?"

Her next words were barely audible. "I don't want to lose you."

"You won't."

"Not even after today?" Andy asked quietly, her voice full of doubt.

Though he managed to bite back a laugh, he couldn't stop his body from shaking with silent laughter. "No."

"But—"

"No," Sam repeated.

"But, I was wrong, wasn't I?" she whispered, her body trembling.

He drew in a deep breath before slowly releasing it. Even if he couldn't tell her exactly what she needed to hear, he couldn't lie to her. "No."

Andy froze. No? Head rising from his shoulder, she turned it and tilted it upward so that she could see his face. "No?" she breathed, struggling to make sense of what he'd just said... what it meant. Did he really just say that? Does he…?

"Uh, Andy?"

Her head slowly turned to find Traci awkwardly standing off to the side, staring at them with wide eyes.

There was a moment of silence, a split second in which both Sam and Andy just stared at the woman. And then they were both jerking backward, their arms shooting back down to their sides as they broke all contact with one another. Except, the alcohol running through Andy's body had her balance off-kilter, her back slamming into Sam's truck as her hands flew out to her sides in a desperate attempt to keep herself upright. Meanwhile, despite moving away, Sam's hand lunged forward to steady her, lingering a second longer on her arm before he gave her a small nod and put some more space between them.

"Did you ask him?" Traci asked slowly, arms folded across her chest as she looked between the two. Both wore similar facial expressions: the kind her son, Leo, had when he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Yeah?" Andy said, her voice full of uncertainty. She glanced at her friend before her gaze settled back on Sam. What did he mean? And what was I maybe not wrong about? I can't remember. Ugh. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Focus. Think.

"And?"

"And… Uh…?" Andy began, a frown slowly forming on her face. Why won't he look at me? Why wouldn't he kiss me? And, why is he so frustrating?

"Are you coming, Swarek?" Traci said, giving her friend an odd look as she spoke to her co-worker.

"Coming…?" Sam asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Seriously, Andy? You didn't even ask him?"

Sam was tempted to make a joke about how Andy had asked him a lot of things, but as he turned to look at his partner, he hesitated. He didn't think it was possible, but she looked even more confused than before. But, it wasn't just that. There was something in her expression that he couldn't quite read.

"Sweetie?" Traci tried again.

Andy walked by them without a word and stepped up to the exterior wall of 15 Division, her fingers hesitantly reaching out and touching the brick. A wide range of emotions instantly crashed over her. Anger. Fear. Heartache. Joy. She sucked in a sharp breath. Being here – being a cop – had nearly cost her everything... her life... her memory... Sam. Why do I want to come back so badly? Why not start again, and pick a different path? She sighed. Because I'm letting my past dictate my future. I'm letting it tell me what I think I want, but what do I really want?

Sam pulled Nash aside. "How much did she drink?"

Traci shot him a guilty look, but didn't immediately reply.

"She's not ready. It's too soon, and... she can't handle it."

"Look, I know it's bad, but the girl needed a few, and it just…"

"She tried to kiss me," Sam said, his voice hushed.

"Tried?"

"She's drunk, Nash."

"So, you didn't let her…?" Traci prodded.

"Of course I didn't let her. She's not thinking clearly and whatever she decides, it can't happen this way."

"Whatever she decides?" Traci said, staring at him like he had three heads. "Are you kidding me? This morning she was talking about moving out, and now she's trying to kiss you. So, maybe you should let her. You know, just stop trying to be so damn noble, and maybe you guys will actually get somewhere."

"She what?" Sam said, eyes wide. Moving out? Is she leaving Callaghan... for good? His eyes darted over to his partner, noting – even from a slight distance – her glossy eyes and troubled expression, but just a split second later, it was gone.

"Camping," Andy said rather loudly, swinging around and making her way back to them. "We're going camping."

"And she was wondering if you'd like to come with us?" Traci said.

"Uh…?" Sam began, his gaze shifting back and forth between the women. Camping? Really? Hell, no.

"Just for one night… tomorrow night," Traci continued.

He shook his head. "Not my thing." His eyes slid back to Andy to find her big brown ones staring at him. Nope. Not happening. Just look away. But, he couldn't. His eyes were drawn to her, just like they always were, and that only made resisting her harder. I'm not going camping. It's not happening. Not now, not ever. Sam Swarek does not camp.

"But who's going to keep us safe from the bears?" Andy asked, her hand coming up and scratching the air.

"McNally, that's a cat," Sam said, unable to suppress a chuckle at her sloppy imitation.

"Well, then who's going to tell me the difference between a cat and a bear?" Although it was largely the alcohol talking, part of her was dead serious too. The basic idea and distinction were there, but without any real recollection of the two, everything seemed a little fuzzy. And, under normal circumstances, the thought would have likely bothered her and made her question how she could even consider becoming a cop again. But, with the alcohol flowing through her body, the whole thing seemed almost comical.

"You saw a cat in Cind…" He cut himself short, his eyes flicking to Traci. There was no way in hell he was going to admit to watching Cinderella in front of her. "You've seen a cat before. And if you don't know what a bear looks like, I'll show you a picture of one… or Nash will."

"Saaaaaaaaam, come on," Andy pleaded, the awkwardness from just minutes before rapidly fading. "Pleaaaaase?"

"No," he said firmly, struggling to keep his eyes off of her.

"Why not? Can't pitch a tent, Swarek?" Andy challenged.

"I don't camp," he corrected.

"Don't or won't?"

He stared at her. "I'm not going."

"But, I'd share a tent with you. Protect you from the cats and bears."

Sam's jaw dropped. Traci, meanwhile, couldn't stop the loud laugh from escaping.

"Could have a lot of firsts," Andy continued, her lips curling upward. "You and me."

"Oh my god," Traci gasped through her laughter. "Andy," she hissed.

"Camping," Andy practically yelled, shooting her friend a look before the laughter bubbled over. "I meant first time camping."

"Like I said, it's not my thing," Sam replied, though the thought of sharing a tent with her had his insides squirming again. Wouldn't even happen, he silently scolded himself. I'd sleep in my truck before... His eyes narrowed a little as he studied her. Is she trying to push me to my breaking point? Share a tent? Have a lot of firsts? Really? Is this some kind of weird punishment for not letting her kiss me? Or for not kissing her? He laughed inwardly. Is this all really as dumb as it sounds? Me pushing away McNally? Not seizing an opportunity to kiss her? Who the hell am I?

"You're no fun," Andy replied with a pout.

He clenched his teeth together. Careful, McNally.

"Maybe Luke will want to come," Andy blurted out. She had no intention of asking the man, but something told her the idea of him coming might be enough to get Sam to go, and despite what may or may not have just transpired in the parking lot, she still wanted her partner there.

"Come where?"

Andy froze, her face scrunching up in confusion. Did...? Luke? There's no way. The look on Sam's face told her otherwise though. Uh oh. Just breathe. Might be a little awkward, but Luke's a good guy. It's fine if he comes. Could be fun, right? Plastering a smile on her face, she slowly turned to find Luke standing just a few feet behind her. "Uhhh..."

"Camping," Traci said quietly. "Tomorrow night."

"Sounds like fun," Luke said with a small nod. "I'm sure I can find someone to cover my shift." He paused for a second. "Actually, if Jerry isn't going, he owes me, so I'm sure he could take it."

Sam drew in a deep breath. If Barber takes Callaghan's shift, I'm gonna kill him.

Not knowing what else to do, Andy forced a small smile. Don't say anything stupid. Don't ramble. "Great."

"Okay, well, I'll see you at home in a few hours then," Luke said, taking another step toward her and pressing his lips to her forehead. "Love you," he whispered before heading to the detectives' car.

When he was far enough away, Andy let out a loud breath, her mood slipping again, despite the alcohol. Luke kissed me. And... and he told me pointblank how he feels. He knows exactly what he wants. He wants me. And he isn't afraid to say it. Tears pricked her eyes again. But, Sam... I don't even know what he thinks, or what he wants. She slowly turned back to her partner and friend. If he cared, he'd find a way to tell me. I'd know. I wouldn't question every little thing... if there was something between us... if there could be. She wet her lips."Do you love me?" Andy asked quietly, her tear-filled eyes now solely focused on Sam. "Do you... do you wanna be with me?"

Sam stared at her, mouth open and mind reeling, but he couldn't get any words out. Not a single thought passed over his lips, despite the overwhelming number flying through his head.

Meanwhile, the dull ache in Andy's chest returned, rapidly growing in intensity as reality sunk in. Sam doesn't want me. He pushed me away, rejected me, but I didn't listen. I pushed him again. Pressing her lips together, she nodded slowly. I have to stop. Just accept it. I can't change his mind, make him feel something he doesn't. I need to just accept that this is it. This is all that we were ever meant to be: partners, friends, whatever. And that's never going to change. So, I need to stop before I lose him completely. "Okay," she finally choked out.

Traci's eyes immediately shot in Sam's direction, her arm flying out to elbow him hard in the side – to get him to say something, anything – but it was to no avail. He was the embodiment of the word speechless, his facial expression and lack of verbal response making it clear that Andy had caught him off guard and had left him dumbfounded. Rendered him an idiot. Seemingly took away his ability to speak or do much of anything except stare at his partner like he was seeing her for the first time and that she'd just made something appear out of thin air. "Swarek," Traci hissed, now snapping her fingers in front of his face.

Nothing. No reaction.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Traci swung around to face her friend. "That's his way of saying yes."

"I'm so stupid," Andy whispered, her hands rising to cover her face as a deep blush coloured her cheeks. "I was so wrong. So wrong." As the implications of the last few minutes hit her, and even before that, she sucked in a sharp breath, her hands falling down to her knees in an attempt to brace herself. Oh my god, what have I done? I almost kissed Sam, a man who wants nothing to do with me. And I've pretty much ignored my fiancé. What the hell am I doing? Trying to destroy a friendship and a future marriage? Feeling a tear escape, she ducked her head a little lower, struggling to compose herself before standing. Laugh it off. Maybe they'll buy it and everything will go back to normal. We'll just forget today ever happened.

Feeling something sharp hit his side again, Sam stepped toward Andy, his hand automatically settling on her back in an attempt to comfort her. "McNally?" he said, the word sounding strained.

She hastily wiped away another tear, then pushed herself upright, brushing his hand away as she forced out a laugh. "Don't sweat it, pal," Andy said, slapping Sam on the arm. "I guess friends are for loving, and partners are... Hell, I don't even know. Less than one full shift in here," she said, tapping her head. "And you were kind of moody, which you know, is funny—"

"Andy, don't," Traci said sharply.

"Don't what, Traci?" Andy snapped. "Stray from your little game? Do you have him playing too? No, wait, Sam doesn't like games." Her mind went back to the day of the accident, to the game she'd been trying to play with him in the car as they tried to occupy themselves during the quiet times. Then again, he had played Go Fish with her. Still, he wouldn't play Traci's stupid game, even if she had been. And had she ever. She'd even flung herself at Sam after Traci had convinced her that Sam wanted her too. And sure, the alcohol had played a factor, but she'd still gone along with it.

"It's not—"

"I'm sick of it," Andy said, unable to stop the tears from streaming down her face. "I'm done. I played for awhile, at least I tried, but seriously Traci, I lost my memory and I'm pretty much constantly confused, but you, you're more messed up than me."

"McNally," Sam cut in, reaching out to turn her to him. "Leave her out of this."

"Gladly," Andy said.

"This is between you and me," Sam continued.

"No," she replied, shaking her head as a dry laugh escaped her.

"Andy, listen to me."

"Oh, so now you have something to say?" she asked, her expression pained. "Well, let me save you the trouble. This isn't between you and me because there's nothing between us. And what happened didn't mean anything. Nothing. It was a joke."

"If it was a joke you wouldn't be crying."

"Well, maybe I missed the punchline," she retorted, trying to swallow the lump in her throat.

"You missed more than just the punchline, McNally," Sam said, willing her to understand.

"Yeah, well, like you said, I'm drunk. But, you know what? The joke's over. I'm done screwing up. So, don't worry about it."

"What—?" Sam began, a sinking feeling forming in the pit of his stomach.

"Just don't worry about it partner, I get it now," Andy said, trying to ignore the hollow feeling inside. "I get it." With that, she pushed passed them and headed toward the sidewalk. All the times I thought it was in my head, I was right. Except, we're not even friends. We're just partners. He's just a good guy, a nice guy who didn't want to make me feel like an idiot... But this time, I took it too far. He's trying to help me become a cop again, and this is how I repay him? He's never going to want to help me again. Not after I tried to kiss him. And why the hell did I even think that was a good idea? I'm with Luke. At least, I was. So, screw whatever feelings I thought I had for Sam. Just, stop thinking about him. Ignore everything. He shouldn't even be in my head in the first place. She mentally shook herself. It's because he was there when I woke up, and because he's been helping me. That's all. There's nothing else to it. Luke wants to be with me. He proposed to me. So, I maybe got confused for a minute. Almost made a catastrophic mistake by kissing Sam. It's because I'm drunk. But, I was with Luke for a reason. So, I need to stop embarrassing myself and him. It's time to stop living in my head, and start thinking about the future. It's time to get my life back. With Luke... before it's too late.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear a car door close beside her.

"Andy?"

Her gaze shifted to her left. Luke. "I thought you left?" she croaked out.

"Got stuck on a call," he replied, waving his phone around. Then, seeing her tearstained cheeks, he stepped right up to her. "What's wrong?"

"I..." she began, closing her eyes and shaking her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

"For what?"

She slowly opened her eyes and looked up at him. "For not really giving us a chance."

A look of surprise flashed across his face.

"I, umm…" Andy drew in a deep breath. "I screwed up." She wet her lips. "Not remembering anything has just made things really confusing. And I know it hasn't been easy for you..."

"It just takes time," Luke said, brushing the hair out of her face.

She nodded, her eyes now cast downward. Maybe he's right. Maybe everything really does just take time. So, maybe given a little more time and effort, we'll get back to where we were before the accident. "Yeah, well, uhhh… maybe when you're done shift we can talk?"

"Sure. What do you wanna talk about?"

"Us," Andy said, letting out a shaky breath. "About…" Just say it. Sam doesn't want you, Luke does, so make it work. "About how to move forward."

Luke smiled down at her. "Yeah, I'd like that." Glancing down at his watch, he added, "But, listen, I've gotta get going. I'm already running late, and I have to pick up a potential witness."

"Okay," Andy said quietly, giving him a small nod, still feeling uncertain about the whole situation. Make it work. Do whatever you have to do to convince him that you're all in, and in time, you'll convince yourself too. So, when he leaned down to kiss her forehead, Andy grabbed hold of his face and tugged his head downward a little more, until her lips were pressed up against his.

"What was that for?" Luke asked, a smile on his face when they separated.

"I…" She froze, eyes widening as she felt her stomach churn. Uh oh.

"That good, huh? Made you speechless?" Luke teased.

Andy's hand flew up to her mouth as a series of curses ran through her head, and her eyes frantically scanned the area. The unsettled feeling intensified. No, no, no. Please, no. Not now. Not... The thought was cut short as she whirled around and took two massive steps toward a patch of grass. She'd hardly toed the edge of the pavement when the contents of her stomach came up.

Having seen the whole affair from a distance, Traci cast a glance in Sam's direction, noting the sudden shift in his disposition. "I guess she didn't like it that much." It was intended to lighten the mood, but if possible, Sam looked even angrier than before.

His fingers unconsciously curled into tighter fists, his teeth grinding as what he witnessed replayed over and over again in his head. She kissed Callaghan. She chose him... Well, of course she did. It was never going to play out any differently.

Traci tried again. "You've gotta be a special kind of man to make a woman throw up after kissing you."

Sam turned to go. He'd had enough. He was done. Finished. Fini. Terminado.

"Stop," Traci begged. "Just stop and look at her for a second."

"I looked. I saw. It's over," Sam said, without turning back.

"No, it's not. Just look at her, please."

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Sam turned back, his eyes settling on where Andy was now standing... alone. Luke was gone. "What, Nash? She's drunk, and she clearly isn't feeling well. And, since you helped put her in that state, maybe you should help get her out of it too... Just a thought, but hell, what do I know?" Completely forgetting about his coffee and what he'd originally come outside to get, he turned back toward the station.

"She's confused and heartbroken," Traci insisted, launching herself forward a few steps so she was in line with him.

"Oh, is that what we're going to call it now when she's all up in Callaghan's face like that?" Sam asked sarcastically. "Because I can think of better ways to describe it."

"Sam, I know this isn't easy, and I'm not happy about it either, but she needs to know how you feel."

"She knows."

"How? Because you told her?" Traci asked.

Silence.

"You know what, maybe she should know, but this morning, she was still feeling pretty confused about what you guys were, and she clearly feels like you don't want to be with her now."

"So what, I was supposed to take advantage of her? Kiss her when she's drunk?"

"No, but…"

"It's done," Sam said. "Now get her home."

"No, it's—"

"Done," Sam said sharply. "So let it go, Nash."

"Look, there's something…" Traci began, looking visibly stressed. "I promised her I wouldn't say anything."

All he had to do was open the door and step through, and he'd likely put an end to Nash's attempts – at least, for the time being – because he was positive that she'd go after Andy, but something in her tone caught his attention and had him hesitating.

"She told me something before the accident," Traci continued. "Something big."

"Yeah, well, McNally does talk a lot."

"No," Traci said, shaking her head. "You need to hear this..."

"I think I've heard enough," Sam said, opening the door.

Traci's arm shot out to bar his way. "Sam, the night before the accident we had a girls' night."

"Good for you. Did you get her drunk then too?"

Biting back a retort, Traci continued, "She'd had a couple of drinks, but she wasn't drunk. She was completely coherent and she knew exactly what she was saying. But Gail and I promised her we wouldn't say anything."

"Then don't," Sam replied, forcing her arm downward and stepping back inside the station before she could say another word. He didn't want to know what Andy had said because it didn't matter anymore. Whatever she'd said then, she couldn't remember now, so good or bad, it didn't make a difference. She'd made her choice.

"You wanna tell me what just happened?" Traci asked, giving her friend a sideways look as they climbed back in the car.

"Nope," Andy said, rolling her lips together as she attempted to hold back more tears. If she thought she could've managed, she would've have walked back to the house, but between her emotional state and all of the alcohol, she wasn't so sure she'd get there in one piece. So, after several minutes of arguing, she'd finally relented... at least, she had where a ride was concerned.

"Well, I think we need to."

At the risk of sounding like a petulant child, Andy said, "There's nothing to talk about." Nothing I want to talk about anyway. I just want to forget that today ever happened... That any day involving inappropriate thoughts of Sam Swarek ever happened.

"Not even why you went from flirting with Sam to kissing Luke?" Traci replied, an eyebrow quirked questioningly.

"Luke loves me," Andy whispered, her head pressed up against the passenger side window. "He wants to be with me."

"I thought we established that Sam does too? You remember our chat earlier today?"

"It's a lie," Andy said. "Sam and I, we're like friends. Weird friends. But not. Because, we're just partners." Trying to ignore the pain in her chest, she continued, "And I was wrong. You were wrong."

"No, we—"

"Were confused, yeah. And it's hard not be, you know? I mean, he said I wasn't wrong about something," Andy said with a frown. "But, everything else suggests I am. And, I don't even really know what he meant, but it doesn't matter anymore because if we..." She shook her head. "He'd tell me. He'd do something, anything, but all he did was push me away. So, no, Traci, Sam Swarek doesn't... he doesn't like me, not like that."

"Because you're drunk. He doesn't want to take advantage of you."

Andy let out a dry laugh. "Do you know how many times I thought he was going to kiss me and didn't?"

Traci shook her head.

"Neither do I, because it's been a lot. And, you know what Traci? I wasn't drunk those other times, so don't give me that crap about him not wanting to take advantage of me. Besides, it didn't sound like he had a problem with it the night of the blackout, and I'd just killed a guy. So how is that any different?"

"Things are more complicated now," Traci insisted. "With you being engaged, and your memory loss."

"Yeah, well, Sam Swarek doesn't seem like the kind of guy who would just sit back if he wanted something."

"The man is bending over backwards to help you, Andy. What more do you want? Him to profess his feelings for you? Because that isn't who he is. He'll show you in a million different ways that he cares, but I thought you'd know by now that when it comes to how he feels, expressing himself verbally is... it's hard, okay? So, cut the man some slack."

"Maybe that's what I need right now," Andy said. "To know exactly where I stand, and you know what? I do... with Luke. I know exactly what he wants: he wants me, and he loves me. And, he isn't afraid to tell me that. But, it's more than that. I know I could have a future with him because before the accident, I was committed to one with him, not Sam." Her eyes landed on her ring for a brief moment before shifting back to the window, letting them close for a few seconds as another wave of nausea threatened to wash over her. "So, whatever's going on right now, whatever weird thoughts and feelings I'm having, they aren't... they don't matter."

"They do."

Andy shook her head. "I could have jeopardized my future today."

"What future, Andy? With Luke? The one where you wind up miserable because your kids are screaming for their dad, but your husband is more committed to his job than to you or your family?"

"Yeah, with Luke." She ground her teeth together.

"What about Sam?"

"We're partners," Andy replied, her frustration growing. "Why can't you understand that?"

"Because you want to be more than that."

"It doesn't matter what I think I want."

"Then what does matter, Andy? That ring on your finger? Does that matter? Does that tell you who you should be with? Or the house that you live in? Do you really think you belong there?" Traci asked. "And Luke—"

"Stop."

"Do you really think he knows you? Knows what you like or want? Because based on what you've told me since the accident, either your tastes have changed a lot, or he doesn't really know you."

Tears pricked Andy's eyes, threatening to spill over as each word out of her friend's mouth hit her hard. Her throat felt raw, her chest ached, and the emptiness inside of her only seemed to be filling up with an overwhelming bout of anger and sadness, leaving her feeling worse than before.

"But, you know who does know you?... Your partner," Traci said, without giving Andy a chance to respond. "You know what else? All those times your fiancé bailed on you for his job – even in those times when you really needed someone – your partner was there for you. Sam was there for you."

"Just stop," Andy pleaded, her eyes darting to the nearest street sign. Almost back. Just a couple more minutes, and you're out. Away from this. So, just breathe.

"You're scared of screwing up, and I get that. I can't even imagine what it feels like to not remember—"

"No, you can't," Andy agreed, her frustration obvious.

"But your partner has been there for you on and off the job, something Luke hasn't been able to do. And quite honestly, Andy, I hate to say it, but you screwed up big time back there, and I don't think you really realize it." She pulled the car up to Luke's house. "I mean, the only reason you ever held onto your relationship with Luke was because you were trying to convince yourself that you could fix it, that you'd finally made the right choice, and that it was going to work. You were so determined to make it right that you were willing to fake it 'til you made it, but the thing is, you never did make it. Sure, Luke's a good guy and you cared about him, but he isn't the guy for you, and I'm sick and tired of seeing you try to come up with excuses to make it work when you can't even see what's in front of your face."

"So what, you just expect me to pack up my old life like it's nothing? Just move on? And to what? To a guy who can't even tell me what I am to him, or how he feels?" There was a brief pause. "I've already made an idiot out of myself; he's already rejected me, so what, you just expect me to keep trying as if I can change how he feels about me? Because, newsflash, Traci, I can't. And you know what else? You have no idea what this is like. What it feels like to not remember a damn thing about your life, except for the day you almost lost it. To find out you're engaged to a complete stranger, but you can't stop thinking about another man… Do you know how messed up that is? How confusing it is? And what it's like when everyone around you knows you, but you don't know anything about them? Having to memorize hundreds of names and faces, places and objects… Which is another thing: the other day, while waiting for my doctor's appointment, I had a six year old laugh at me because I didn't understand something so simple, but I have no recollection of those things… I mean, half the time, I feel like an idiot because of it. So, if I can't tell the difference between some basic things, how the hell do you expect me to know who the right guy is?" She didn't wait for an answer. Opening the car door, Andy said, "I'll get my own ride tomorrow," before slamming it shut and heading up to the house.

Two hours later…

"Hey, brother," Oliver said as he entered the bullpen.

Sam remained staring at the far wall, pen gripped so firmly in his hand that his knuckles were white.

Frowning, Oliver moved closer, then circled the desk, only pausing to wave his hand in front of Sam's face.

Nothing.

Taking up the empty chair to the right, Oliver tried again, "Trouble in McNally land?"

Silence.

Grabbing a pencil, Oliver reached over and bopped his friend on the shoulder. "Earth to Sammy."

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Swinging his chair around, Sam grabbed the pencil out of Oliver's hand and chucked it on the desk. "What?" he growled.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, do you have a magic wand?" Sam asked bitterly, wishing Callaghan could be out of Andy's life as easily as he had been in the dream.

"What?"

Silence.

Shaking his head, Oliver said, "It'll work out."

"What will?" Sam growled, trying to return to his paperwork. In the last two hours, he'd gotten next to nothing done. In fact, it was so bad that as he thought about it now, he was surprised that Frank hadn't come down to either yell at him or send him home.

"You and McNally."

Sam's eyes flicked over to the D's office where Callaghan stood talking to Jerry. Great. Looks like Homicide is going to get all cozy with McNally on the camping trip. Pushing the thought aside, he said,"That shipped just sailed."

"Funny," Oliver replied.

"She... she kissed him."

Oliver's eyes widened in disbelief. "I'm sure it was—"

"Intentional," Sam interrupted, letting out a frustrated sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. I never should have come to work today. Should've stayed home. Slept. Maybe this never would've happened. He laughed inwardly. She would've picked him eventually. Same old story. It wouldn't have changed. So maybe Jerry was right, maybe I should be putting myself back out there. Forget about her. Move on. Except, deep down, he knew that he couldn't move on; he couldn't forget about her. Still, he had to believe that he could. That he wouldn't move through life always feeling alone.

"There has to be a good explanation," Oliver said slowly.

"Yeah. There is... She chose him."

"No, that's not it. That can't be it."

"Why?" Sam snapped. "Because you think it shouldn't be that way? The world isn't like that Oliver. Things happen. Life goes on."

"She is your life, Sam."

"Well, not anymore."

"Don't say that," Oliver pleaded. "You know that's not true."

Sam ground his teeth together. "You know, the worst part is, you and Nash almost had me going for a second, thinking that maybe things would be different now that she doesn't remember anything."

"It is."

"No, it's not because once again, she chose him." Before Oliver could argue, Sam continued, "It's not going to change, and I was stupid for letting anyone convince me otherwise."

"Buddy, don't you see the way she looks at you?"

"Yeah, the same way she has for…" He waved his hand dismissively. It had been a long time, but it was irrelevant anyway. "And every single time, she's been with him. So, get over it, Oliver, because it's not happening, and the sooner you realize that, the better off we'll all be."

"Like whom? Like you? Will you better off, Sam?"

"Yeah, like me because sooner or later she would have gone back to him, so it's better this way." A dry laugh escaped him. "Can't lose what you never had."

"Don't give up on her now."

Sam was silent for a long moment. "I'm not. I'm going to help her pass the written and physical tests, but after that, things need to change. I need to keep my distance and try to get my life back… maybe go away for awhile."

"But she is your life, Sammy," Oliver said, shaking his friend by the shoulders.

"She can't be."

Back pressed up against the shower wall, Andy slumped down, pulling her knees tight to her chest as her arms slowly wound around her legs. "What have I done?" she whispered, tears streaming down her face, only to be washed away by the shower water as it poured down on her, causing the clothing she still wore to cling to her skin, and chilling her to the bone. Tilting her head upward, she closed her eyes, willing the water to lift the haze produced by the alcohol, to give her clarity, to help her understand... everything. "I wish I'd died," she sobbed, as her mind went back over the afternoon's events. Traci's words. The kiss. Sam. She'd been so sure that he was rejecting her, that she'd been fooling herself, and that Traci had been so very wrong. But, what if she hadn't been? What if...? She cut the thought short. She couldn't let her mind go down that road. She'd kissed Luke, a matter Traci deemed to be something of a catastrophic event. And while that sounded melodramatic, in Andy's heart, that's exactly how it felt... catastrophic. "I don't wanna hurt anyone. I just want to feel sure about something... something real." Her head fell to her knees. I don't wanna hurt anyone, but have I already? The pain in her chest intensified. I didn't mean to kiss Luke. I was upset. Hurt. I needed to feel grounded, and with him, I know where I stand. I don't need to question it. I just know. And, everything else is just a mess. A disaster. It's confusing. Complicated. But, what if I can't be happy with him? What if I can't make him happy? What if I screwed up? She drew in a shaky breath. And can I really just pretend like I don't feel anything for Sam? Just accept that we're partners...? I mean, yeah, I kind of have to and I guess I was before, but how am I supposed to act normal around him, especially after today? ...after finally admitting to myself that maybe it's more than just a physical attraction. And Traci... the way I treated her, she'll never want to speak to me again, and I don't blame her. I mean, she did help get me drunk, and what she said this morning is probably why I threw myself at Sam... And, okay, she was being really harsh, but I... Andy squeezed her eyes shut tighter as more tears escaped. She didn't deserve it... To be yelled at... Blamed. It's my fault. Everything that's happening is my fault. Making Sam uncomfortable. Being a bad friend. A terrible fiancé. Another sob escaped her. It would have been easier for everyone if I'd died that day. Half an inch or less and...

Her phone rang, momentarily disrupting her thoughts.

Was I like this before the accident? Such a burden? She drew in another shaky breath. Maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. Maybe it doesn't matter who I was because that person is gone. Dead. She's lying on the operating table, bleeding out. At least, she might as well be because aside from that day, I don't remember her. And let's face it, I'm not her. I'm not the person I used to be. I'm just a shadow. And that woman, that person they think they knew, she isn't coming back. Ever.

Andy's phone went off again.

I've just been so focused on trying to figure everything out... Trying to cling to a past I have next to no recollection of. And where has that gotten me? Nowhere. All I have to show for it are a series of broken relationships. People I've hurt or burdened. And I don't know how to stop. I don't know how to do this anymore. How to live. How to get through each day without feeling like I'm just floating by. She let out a frustrated sigh. I want to feel grounded. I want answers. My friends. My job. I want it all back, but I can't. So maybe it's time to step back. Go back to the basics. Figure out who I am and not who I was. Except, I can't do it alone. I can't. But, I don't have Traci anymore, or Sam. No, don't cry. Stop. They're better off without you. And Dov and Chris are still kind of strangers. Luke... well, that's complicated. And he left me in the parking lot within minutes of me throwing up. She let out a dry laugh. I'm alone... in a world I don't even really remember. But, I did it to myself. And maybe this is how it's supposed to be. Andy McNally: the lone wolf.

Hearing her phone go off for the sixth time within the hour, she pushed herself back up to her feet, and turned off the water, quickly patting herself dry and wringing out her hair before reaching for her phone. A familiar name flashed across the screen. Still, she hesitated. "Time to let go," she whispered.

Half an hour later...

"Hey Swarek, have you heard from Andy recently?"

"Lost your fiancé already, Callaghan?" Sam said as he stepped out of the locker room, his gaze trained on the exit. He had absolutely no intention of standing around chatting with Homicide about her. All he wanted was a stiff drink and some peace and quiet. Well, no, that wasn't true. He wanted her, but that was out of the question.

"She won't pick up her phone. Traci and Gail have both tried. Tommy can't reach her."

Sam stopped halfway down the hallway, his right hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Well, she was pretty drunk, so she's probably passed out."

"She isn't with Traci, and she isn't at home. Diaz swung by the house ten minutes ago. She's gone."

Grinding his teeth together, Sam slowly turned to face the detective. "Well, I don't know where she is."

"Have you tried calling her?" Luke pressed.

Sam bit back a laugh. "Callaghan, I'm pretty sure McNally isn't interested in talking to me," he said with a thin smile. But, that didn't mean he wasn't worried. The fact that Andy wasn't picking up her calls was enough to cause an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. "I wouldn't worry about it," Sam said as he turned back toward the exit. "She doesn't seem to have a problem finding her way back to you."

The second his feet hit the pavement and the door slammed shut behind him, his shoulders fell. "Great," he muttered as several large raindrops hit his skin. Storm's coming, he thought, staring skyward as he made his way toward his truck, pulling out his cell phone and dialling Andy's number along the way. Voicemail. "Where are you, McNally?" he whispered as he slid into the driver's seat and pulled out of the parking lot. Three sets of lights into the drive and he started cursing, almost immediately pulling off to the side of the road. "You've got to be kidding me," he growled as he got out and reached into the bed of the truck, another slew of curses escaping him upon seeing the coffee sloshed all over it. His coffee from earlier. Tossing the cup into the nearest trash can, he got back in his truck, knowing that there wasn't much he could do right now to clean it, and with Andy missing, there was no way he was going to do it now anyway. Now staring out the driver's side window, he let out a frustrated sigh. "You don't really remember anything, and you had a bad day. Where do you go?" His eyes scanned the street. "Where the hell did you go, McNally?"

Ten minutes later he was knocking on a door, partially soaked from what had transformed from a light shower or sprinkle to a torrential downpour.

"What do you want?" Tommy asked, his expression grim.

"Is she okay?"

The man's eyebrows shot upward, his arms folding across his chest as he leaned against the doorframe, barring the way.

"Look, I know she's in there," Sam said quietly. "I just want to know if she's okay...?"

"No."

Sam grimaced. If the man was being this difficult, then Andy had to have told him something. "Is she...?" He fell silent, unsure of what exactly he was trying to ask.

"You wanted to know if she was okay," Tommy said with a pointed look. "Well, she's not. But now you have your answer, so you need to go."

"Look, I don't know what she told you, but-"

"No, you don't," Tommy said sharply. "But you're going to keep your mouth shut about her being here. I'll let the others know she contacted me, but I don't want them showing up on my doorstep."

"They're worried."

"So am I, which is why you're going to keep your mouth shut, and go."

When the former detective tried to close the door, Sam threw his forearm up to stop it. He knew he was stepping into dangerous water, but he couldn't just leave... not yet. Sure enough, the look Tommy gave him had Sam feeling like he was a dead man walking. Still, he didn't back down. But, neither did Tommy, which lead to an incredibly tense and awkward moment of silence in which both men struggled to get a read on each other.

"Why are you here, Swarek?"

Sam remained silent. Given Andy's decision, it was certainly a valid question, but just because she'd chosen Homicide didn't mean he could stop caring about her at the drop of a hat. It just wasn't going to happen, because when it came to her, he was inexplicably protective, and he doubted that was something that would just go away. Same with the way he felt about her. After so long, it wasn't going to change in a matter of hours. Hell, he wasn't sure how long it would take to get her out of his system. And, in truth, he still wasn't sure it was even possible, but after today, he had to try. Which brought him back to Tommy's question, something he didn't have an answer to, especially not after telling Oliver that he needed to get his life back. If that was true, being here right now didn't put him off to a good start.

"Look, I know you aren't a dad, but I think even you can understand this," Tommy said slowly, and with more than a little hesitation. "I may not have been the best father when she was growing up, but I'm sure as hell going to try to be the best one now. And that means that there are certain things I need to do to protect her."

Sam merely stared at the other man, not really understanding.

Seeing Sam's confusion, Tommy continued, "My little girl is hurting right now. You know that, right?" There was a small pause, too short for any real response. "And I might not agree with her, but I'm going to do everything in my power to protect her. So while I might think you're a solid cop, and appreciate you trying to help her... This is something I have to do for her, at least for a little while."

Before Sam could say a word, the door closed in his face. Wait, what? He drew in a deep breath, then knocked again and continued to do so until the door opened. "Protect her from what?"

Folding his arms across his chest, Tommy studied Sam again.

"Protect her from what?" Sam repeated, seeing the man's hesitation and hoping to eventually wear him down.

"You're not going to leave, are you?"

"Not until I see her," Sam replied firmly, knowing it was true. He couldn't go until he saw her with his own eyes.

There was another awkward moment of silence before Tommy sighed. "Five minutes," he said sharply as he stepped aside and gestured for the younger man to come in. "But, you know, the longer this thing goes on, the more you're going to hurt one another."

Sam's eyes shot over to the other man, wondering just how much he knew. He has to know something... to go from being in my corner at the hospital and not Callaghan's, to suddenly shutting me out. Unless Homicide actually did something...? He laughed inwardly. No, this isn't Callaghan's doing. So then, what does Tommy know? What did Andy tell him? And why does he think he needs to protect her from me, and shut me out? For not kissing his very drunk daughter? Last I checked, that was supposed to be a good thing. Pushing the thoughts aside, he asked, "How did you find her?"

"I didn't. She came to me. Showed up on my doorstep not too long ago." He cast a glance over his shoulder. "She's passed out now. Cried herself to sleep. Wouldn't say much about what happened, but I can take a stab at it... fill in the blanks."

Sam grimaced. "She drank a lot."

"Looks like she tried to drown herself too," Tommy said, finally turning and leading Sam to the living room.

"She chose him."

"I don't think she chose anything," Tommy replied, eyes lingering on his daughter for a moment before stepping aside so that Sam could see her.

He let out a loud breath as he took in her soaking wet hair, then her face, which was tear stained and a little puffy. His eyes shifted a little more, noting the way she was curled up on the couch, as if she was trying to hold herself together. And, in that moment, despite everything he'd said or thought earlier, all he wanted to do was wrap her up in his arms and hold her tight.

A sound behind him had him momentarily turning. Realizing Tommy was retreating down the hallway, Sam hesitantly stepped toward the couch and knelt down. "You're going to be okay, McNally," he whispered as he tentatively reached out and brushed some hair out of her face. She stirred, but didn't wake, so his hand lingered. "You're stronger than you think."

"Sam?" she whispered, without opening her eyes. Her mind was still weighed down with a heavy fog, a mix of exhaustion and the remnants of the alcohol, and though she thought she heard his voice and felt his touch, she didn't see how it could be true... how he could be there, at her dad's house. And, yet, if he was just in her dream, she didn't want to wake up yet, so she kept her eyes closed.

He drew in a deep breath, but said nothing as he stared down at her.

"I'm... I'm cold."

Seeing her shiver, Sam reached over and pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, carefully draping it over her. I can't do this. Can't stand by and watch again.

"I'm sorry," Andy breathed, her eyes now slowly opening and seeking his out.

"Sleep, McNally."

"I can't stop thinking—"

"Just sleep, okay?" he said, wishing she'd listen so that he could put off saying what had to be said.

"Did I screw up?" she mumbled, eyes glossy as she took in his grim expression.

"You're going to need your sleep," he continued, ignoring her question because, quite frankly, he wasn't sure what the answer was. Did he want her to kiss Callaghan? Hell, no. But maybe this was how things were supposed to be. Shaking the thought, he added, "Because I'm not going to go easy on you tomorrow with the studying."

Like Sam, Andy continued to barrel on with her own train of thought, not letting his words throw her off track. "I shouldn't have pushed you, or done any of that. I wasn't thinking. I..."

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to her forehead. Stop, McNally. Just let it go. Don't make me do this now. Not yet. We're not ready. In an attempt to distract her, he said, "Don't disappear like that again. Got it?"

"I lost you today," she whispered, eyes closing as tears trickled down her face. She knew she had to let him go, but now that he was here, she found herself being overwhelmed by her emotions again.

As Sam watched her, he felt a pain in his chest. She wasn't going to let this go; she was throwing herself headfirst into it. "Andy..."

Her eyes slowly opened, but lingered somewhere on his chest.

"I..." He grimaced. Shaking his head, he said, "I'm glad you're safe." Now get up and go.

Andy's gaze shifted until her eyes were on his face, her heart pounding heavily in her chest. Something's different. Off. Really off."Sam?"

The almost fearful tone in her voice told him that she already had a pretty good idea of where things were heading, but that didn't make things any easier. It's for the best. Just get it over with and let her completely move on. Get your life back. Stop waiting for what you can never have. "I'm going to have to break a promise," he said quietly, unable to look at her. "I'll help you pass your tests, but…" He grimaced again. "But I'm going to ask Frank to assign you a new training officer and partner."

There was a long stretch of silence in which neither of them spoke or moved. Sure, she'd decided she needed to step back and stop hurting him, but she'd been thinking on a personal level. The thought of not being partners had never crossed her mind, and now that it was at the forefront, she was terrified. Drawing in a shaky breath, she pushed herself into a sitting position, her entire body trembling as the words really sunk in. "No," she whispered, shaking her head.

"I'll ask Frank to give you Oliver. You started with him, and he's good. He'll teach you everything you need to know to be a great cop again."

She lowered her eyes. "But..." She swallowed hard. "If this is about earlier, I promise I'll stop. I won't say anything. I won't do it again. I swear, I'll... I'll do exactly what you say." Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Biting back a sigh, he wiped away each drop. Of course she doesn't understand... She doesn't feel the same way. She just thinks her partner is abandoning her. "I put my name in for more undercover work." He hesitated. "Trying to work my way up to Guns and Gangs." It wasn't a complete lie, but that wasn't the main reason right now. It was something she might be able to understand though.

"You're leaving?" she whispered, eyes wide.

"Once something comes up," he replied with a small nod.

"For... for how long?"

"Could be a year or two." The way he said it made it sound like it was nothing, but he knew just how long a year or two of undercover work could seem and, simultaneously, how easy it was to lose yourself to it. But, that's also what he needed right now. A distraction. A different life.

"But... why?" she asked, her voice cracking.

He hesitated. "Because I'm not needed here. Oliver can re-teach you everything you need to know to be a great cop," Sam said. "And I… I need to figure some things out. Do something with my life."

"But you can do that here," Andy said. "You can—"

"I don't have anything to hold me back, McNally." His eyes flicked up to hers before quickly darting away. She looked heartbroken. She kissed Callaghan, he reminded himself. She made her choice. And, it won't take her long to realize she's lucky to have Oliver as a partner, and then she'll be fine.

"You… you have me," Andy whispered, a sob wracking her body.

"I never had you," Sam replied, his voice pained. Time to go...Now... before you second guess everything again. As he rose, he placed another kiss on her forehead, fairly certain that - with the exception of her tears - his expression and mood matched hers. And although he wasn't sure if she'd show up, helping her get her badge back was one promise he wasn't going to go back on, so he said, "Tomorrow morning, McNally. Same time." With that, Sam headed for the door, ducking his head as he caught sight of the look on Tommy's face. The man had clearly heard enough. But, it was all for the best, right? At least he hoped sleeping on it would help convince him that it was because right now, it felt like he was walking out on the best thing that ever happened to him, even if she wasn't his. With a heavy heart, Sam stepped outside, pinching the bridge of his nose as the closing door cut off the sound of Andy's sob. It's for the best. Just keep going. It's for the best, he silently repeated over and over again, each step making the feeling of regret grow stronger.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think. And I know some of you might not be happy, and you might want to slam me for this one (especially for one part), but real life isn't full of fluff and neither is this story, despite how fluffy it's been so far. There is plenty more fluff to come though, and you know the endgame, so I guess all I can say is that I hope you continue to trust me on this. I don't expect you to like what happened (honestly, I don't either, but this is how I'm telling the story), but just know that I did take into account the fact that some of you want McSwarek sooner than you were originally going to get them, and that what happened in this chapter actually speeds things up. Now, I don't usually change up my story like that (I only ever incorporate ideas when and where I see fit) so I guess I'd consider this a tradeoff/compromise. I'm trying to keep you guys relatively happy without completely changing how I'm telling the story. And honestly, as much as I love fluff, I think all stories (particularly long ones) should have their fair share of gut-wrenching moments... things that make you want to throw your phone (but please don't), smile, cry, whatever. If you're getting anything out of the story, you should be feeling more than one thing. At least, that's my opinion, and while I'm certainly not an expert, that's how I want to write. Anyway, I hope you guys feel the same way and join me for the next chapter/rest of the story. I promise you won't suffer much :-). Anyway, reviews are open, so feel free to rant (or not!). Either way, I hope to see you back for the next one!

Up next, secrets don't come out all neat and tidy. What happens when one of Andy's pre-accident secrets comes to light? Does it have the power/potential to turn the tables in time? Will Sam actually go undercover, or will he fight back? And, how awkward can one camping trip possibly get?

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