Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading this and to everyone who is reviewing. I was reminded in a review from the last chapter that these stories are just as much for you guys as they are for me. It's true- while I love writing and I'm a big fan of Sam and Andy, most of my motivation comes from knowing others are enjoying the story as well. You may not think that a few words of encouragement means a great deal to writers, but it really does. I am so appreciative of the readers that I have. Thank you. With that said... I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.
They were called to a gang shooting at High Park and had spent most of their shift collecting evidence and witness statements. Much to Andy's dismay, Luke was there because it was a multiple homicide. She spent a good deal of time studiously ignoring his sad and pleading eyes.
Andy and Dov, the only two rookies at the scene, had been assigned to search a cluster of bushes for shell casings. "He keeps staring at you," Dov told her, eyeing the detective. "It's kind of weird. And creepy."
Andy looked up and glanced over at Luke before replying, "He'll get over it."
"I don't know," Dov said, "It's been what…?"
"Four weeks," Andy answered, pulling up a clump of weeds. She felt a bug on her neck and slapped it away, irritated.
"Four weeks," Dov repeated, "And he's still getting trashed at the Penny every night? And where did Jo go?" He kicked a pile of dirt to the side before bending over to move a rock out of the way. "It's like she just vanished."
"She didn't vanish, she went back to her old division," Andy said, not wanting to get into why Jo had left.
"Well, you really did a number…" he stopped midsentence, reaching down to pick up a shiny metal object. "Got it!" He exclaimed, holding the casing between his purple-gloved fingers.
"Excellent," she muttered, watching him walk back to the main group with the shell held up like a trophy. Normally she liked talking to Dov. He was funny and a good friend, but right then she did not want to talk about Luke to him, or to anyone for that matter. She was fairly certain everyone knew what happened, but that didn't mean that she was ready to openly discuss it.
She continued to search through the bushes, flicking away bugs ever so often, until Sam called out to her. "McNally," he said, walking towards her. "We need to go back to the station."
Andy stood up and brushed the dirt off of her pants. "Why?"
"Shaw just brought four guys in," Sam told her, reaching out to brush some dirt she had missed off of her back. "Callaghan wants us to separate them and get their stories."
"Sounds good," Andy said, following him to their squad car.
Luke clenched his jaw as he watched the brief scene unfold. There was a familiarity between the partners, an easiness in their interaction, that made Luke's stomach tighten. When he saw Sam reach for Andy he expected her to back away but instead she had almost leaned into him, totally comfortable with him touching her. Luke knew he should turn away and focus on the job at hand, but he kept his eyes on Andy until she and Swarek had driven out of sight.
The detective was broken out of his trance when a CSU officer called out to him. "Sir," the officer said, "I think you may want to take a look at this."
Luke sighed and tried to push all thoughts of Andy out of his mind.
When their shift was over, Andy and Sam dropped by a Chinese restaurant to pick up takeout before going home. They had both begged off invites to the Penny, Andy because she was still avoiding people and Sam because he didn't want to continue his conversation with Oliver.
He knew that Oliver wasn't going to give up and that at some point they'd have to talk, he was just going to postpone it as long as possible. The truth was, he had no idea what to say to his friend because he had no idea what was going on with Andy. She was fresh off of her break up with Callaghan and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her vulnerable emotional state.
He had decided long ago not to push her, to let her figure things out for herself. He knew that deep down, somewhere in her subconscious, she knew how he felt about her. She had to be the one who decided when she was ready.
They ate dinner in front of the television, watching a hockey game.
"I love hockey," Andy declared, putting down her empty carton of food. She brought her feet up beneath her and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa, wrapping it around herself.
Sam poked around his carton with his chopsticks, searching for the last piece of chicken. "Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Andy nodded. "They show up, they skate, they get to hit people. No one expects them to…" she paused and then huffed, "Talk."
Sam glanced over at her, concerned. "You okay?"
Andy sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine."
"You don't sound fine," Sam countered.
"Well I am," she insisted unconvincingly. "I'm fine."
Sam shrugged, turning back to the television, "Fine."
"I don't want to talk about it."
Sam raised an eyebrow, "That's a first."
Andy smirked at him but didn't respond. They sat quietly, comfortably, watching the game. Sam picked at his food some more before deciding he was done and setting the carton down. He grabbed their fortune cookies from the takeout bag, handing Andy's to her without a word.
Sam cracked his cookie open and read the fortune, chuckling softly. Andy looked over at him. "What does yours say?" She asked.
"You first," Sam said, tossing part of the cookie up and catching it in his mouth.
Andy rolled her eyes, but opened her fortune up and read it aloud. "Beware, you have a yearning for perfection and will be disappointed when it is not reached."
"In bed." Sam finished for her.
Andy's eyes widened. "What?"
"You're supposed to follow your fortune with the words "in bed"," Sam told her. He shot her a look of disbelief. "How have you never heard of that before?"
"I have, I just…" she hesitated, "Didn't think you had."
"Because I'm old?" Sam asked.
"No," Andy tried to explain, "It just seems kind of silly, that's all."
"It's funny," Sam shrugged.
"Well what does yours say?"
Sam opened his fortune, "You will soon experience new and exiting things."
"In bed," Andy finished, laughing.
Sam looked over at her and waggled his eyebrows. "So, McNally…" he said, cutting his eyes over to his bedroom.
Andy knew he was teasing her, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing. "Sam!" She exclaimed, laughing as she swatted him on the arm.
Sam chuckled along with her. When their laughter died down, Andy yawned. "I think I'm going to go take a shower and then go to bed. I'm beat."
"At least we don't have to work tomorrow," Sam said, gathering the trash off the coffee table. "You can sleep in."
Andy stood and stretched her arms over her head. "Thank goodness," she said. She reached out to take the empty cartons from Sam. "Here, I can get those."
Sam waved her off. "I've got it."
"You going to bed?"
He pointed at the television, "I'm just going to finish the game first."
"Alright, well…" she smiled, shifting from one foot to the other. "Goodnight Sam."
He returned her smile, one corner of his mouth tugging up higher than the other. "Goodnight Andy."
Later that night, Andy awoke with a start. She glanced around, trying to get her bearings, before fumbling for her phone on the bedside table. The glowing numbers told her it was almost three in the morning. Andy groaned and rolled back over, intending to go back to sleep. She still had plenty of time before she needed to be up.
For some reason she couldn't go back to sleep. The house was dark and peaceful but she couldn't shake the fact that something just didn't feel right. After unsuccessfully trying to ignore the feeling, she threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. She grabbed her robe and tied it around her waist before heading downstairs.
Andy padded into the kitchen and scanned her eyes over it and the living room. Nothing looked amiss. She checked the patio door and found it locked securely.
She shook her head, wondering why she was being so paranoid, and was about to head back upstairs when something outside caught her attention.
From the living room she could see into the alley where Sam usually parked his truck. It wasn't there.
Alarmed, Andy went to the front door and looked out, thinking that maybe he had parked on the street and she just didn't remember.
His truck wasn't there either.
Andy groaned. If Sam's truck had been stolen he was going to be pissed. He loved that thing.
She debated whether or not to wake him up and decided that of course she should. Bracing herself to deal with whatever mood he may be in, she walked over to his bedroom.
The door was cracked so she poked her head inside. "Sam," she whispered, knocking softly. When she didn't get a response she called his name again, louder this time, and rounded the wall that blocked his bed from view.
The bed was messy, like it had been slept in, but Sam wasn't there.
Before going into full panic mode, Andy called his name one more time, loudly. "Sam!" she all but yelled, patting her hands over the mattress as if he could somehow be hiding beneath the blanket that covered the bed.
She stood straight up and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. There could be any number of explanations as to why Sam wasn't there.
Maybe he woke up and really wanted a snack, so he had to run to the store.
That was dumb. There was plenty of food in the kitchen.
Maybe he needed medication and couldn't wait 'til morning to get it.
She didn't think that was it.
Maybe he was with a woman.
Andy's stomach unexpectedly twisted at the thought, and she quickly pushed it out of her mind. There was no way he was with someone, she would have known about it. Unless, of course, he had been keeping it from her.
Andy tried to explain away his absence, telling herself that he was a grown man and he could come and go as he pleased.
She just couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling that something was wrong. If he wasn't with someone, and she felt fairly certain he wasn't, he was probably doing something dangerous that he didn't want to tell her about.
Andy left his room and checked the downstairs one more time, calling his name. She went back up to her room and grabbed her cell phone off the bed, debating whether or not to call him.
On one hand, she was just his temporary roommate and really didn't deserve an explanation as to his whereabouts. On the other hand, she was his partner and if she had pulled something like this, disappearing in the middle of the night without a word, she had no doubt Sam would have the entire division out looking for her.
Her mind made up, she dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring once, twice, three times. After the fourth ring his voicemail picked up.
"Sam," She said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "This is Andy. I uh…I woke up and you obviously aren't here." She paused for a beat, unsure of what to say. "Can you just call me please when you get this and let me know you're okay? Thanks. Okay, bye."
Andy tried to tell herself that he was fine and that she should go back to sleep, but it was useless. She kept tossing and turning, thinking of all the outrageous reasons Sam could be gone and all the dangerous situations he could have gotten himself in. She gave up and went back downstairs, curling up on the sofa to wait for him. Eventually her exhaustion from the previous week caught up with her and she couldn't hold her heavy eyelids open any longer.
Dawn was just breaking when Sam made it home. He entered the house as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Andy. He had gotten her message nearly three hours after she had left it and he hoped that she had already gone back to sleep.
Sam closed the front door and locked it, flinching at the noise that seemed to echo off the walls. He wanted to get some water before cleaning up, so he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen.
He found Andy asleep on the sofa in the living room, clutching her phone in one hand.
Sam smiled at the sight, a mixture of guilt and happiness. He'd listened to her voicemail when he'd gotten back to his truck and while he felt terrible for making Andy worry, he couldn't help feeling a little bit pleased that she cared.
He shook her foot gently to wake her up. "Andy," he called softly, not wanting to scare her.
Andy stirred awake. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the bright morning light that was streaming in from the windows. When she saw Sam standing at her feet she sat straight up. "Where did you go?" she asked, her voice still hoarse with sleep.
"I had to run an errand for a friend," Sam said simply, not offering any more information.
"During the middle of the night?" Andy questioned, knowing she wasn't getting the full story. Sam didn't say anything as he lowered himself to sit on the coffee table in front of her. As he slid his jacket off she noticed the bulge at the back of his pants.
She narrowed her eyes, "With your gun?" She knew he had been doing something dangerous. Reaching out to feel for what she knew was under his shirt, she added, her voice getting slightly more hysterical, "And your vest?"
Sam removed the gun and checked the safety before setting it down on the table. He hesitated for a moment, stalling by rubbing a hand over his face and sighing, but then admitted, "Boyd called me."
"What did he want?" Andy asked, her nose involuntarily scrunching with disgust at the mention of the undercover officer.
Sam yanked his t-shirt over his head and then pulled off his vest, setting it beside the gun. "Sometimes I help him out with operations they're running. Just small stuff here and there, " he said, untucking the white undershirt he still wore before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I know some of the people they're going after pretty well."
Andy was silent, nodding slowly as she processed the information.
"I haven't told you about it because the fewer people that know, the better," Sam offered, knowing she would ask. Andy was chewing on her bottom lip, a habit that she had when she was anxious, and he wanted to stop her. Instead he sat quietly, letting her lead the conversation.
After a tense moment Andy asked, "How long have you been helping him out?"
"Since the Landry deal," Sam told her.
Andy sucked in a sharp breath. He'd been doing this, going out in the middle of the night and who knows when else, for months without telling her. She wanted to scream but she forced herself to calmly ask, "What did you help him with last night?"
Sam pursed his lips but answered honestly, "I went to talk with an informant I knew from when I was undercover."
"Does this have anything to do with Anton Hill?"
"He's part of it," Sam told her, "but he's not the main target."
Andy knew he probably couldn't tell her who the real target was, so she didn't even ask. "Does Frank know about this?"
Sam nodded and then cracked a grin to lighten the mood. "Of course he does. It's legitimate, Andy," he said, chuckling at what she was implying. "I'm not a dirty cop."
Andy did not appreciate being laughed at. She reached out and smacked him on the knee, hard. "Don't laugh at me, you jerk," she said defensively. "When I woke up and you weren't here and you weren't answering your phone…." She trailed off, letting him infer the rest. "It's not funny. You'd be so pissed at me if I did something like that."
She hit him again for good measure.
Still chuckling, Sam reached out and placed a hand on Andy's waist. He hadn't given much thought to the comforting gesture, but when he realized how close he was to her, he sobered. "I'm fine, Andy," he promised, squeezing her gently.
They held each other's gaze, both acutely aware of their physical proximity and the intimacy of the moment. Andy suddenly reached forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him to her. Her anger, which had been fueled by her concern for him, slowly dissipated as she whispered into his shoulder, "I was worried about you."
Sam was more caught off guard by her admission than he was by the hug. Recovering quickly, he widened his knees and pulled her even closer. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "I thought I'd get home before you even woke up."
Andy pulled away just enough to look at him. She tangled her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. "Not to sound like a nag or anything, but could you at least leave a note next time?"
Sam grinned and brought one hand forward to push her hair off her face. "I can probably do that," he agreed.
Andy nodded sharply before tightening her arms around him again. "Good."
They stayed like that for another minute, maybe two, neither quick to end the embrace and both enjoying comfort of the other's arms.
"Where did you meet this informant?" Andy finally asked, gently pushing Sam away. "In the sewer?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.
"No offense," Andy said, wrinkling her nose, "but you stink."
Sam laughed and stood up, sniffing his t-shirt. "This is what a man smells like Andy," he defended himself with a good-natured grin. "A man."
"Uh-huh," Andy agreed, giggling, her anger gone.
"Not that pretty boy stuff Callaghan wears," Sam said, stripping the white undershirt over his head.
Andy laughed, standing up from the couch. "Well, I'm going to make breakfast." She moved around Sam and walked to the kitchen. "If you'll take a shower I'll consider making you some, too."
"Deal," Sam said, returning his gun to the lock box in the hallway closet and hanging his vest inside.
Andy had the refrigerator door open and was hidden behind it, pulling out whatever ingredients she needed to make breakfast. When Sam called her name she poked her head around it and he watched as she gave his bare chest an appreciative glance. When her gaze rose to meet his he winked at her. "You sure you're not the one that needs a shower? A cold one, maybe?"
Andy's face flushed with color. "Shut up," she demanded, slamming the refrigerator door and spinning away from him.
He called her name again and she reluctantly turned to face him. As soon as she did he threw the dirty undershirt at her, hitting her right in the face. "Oh, gross!" Andy exclaimed, disgusted, quickly batting the offensive object to the floor. She heard Sam laughing as he made his way towards the bedroom. "Sam!"