Author's Note: Guys, I'm going to admit something that I hope doesn't make you think less of me. I was pretty terrified to write this chapter. I have all of the main plot points outlined and have been intimidated of this chapter since the very beginning. You'll probably read it and think, "What is she talking about?" Anyway, so I procrastinated writing it because I was afraid. And then I read through some of your reviews and thought to myself, "Kris (that's me), these people believe you can do it, so just do it." And then I started writing and I didn't stop. All of that is to say thank you. Thank you for your reading this story and thank you for taking the time to review. It really does mean so much.

Author's Note 2: The episode last night was incredible and I am so excited about the rest of the season! Yay for Andy FINALLY getting it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

Andy was glad they didn't have to work the next morning. She slept in and when she went downstairs she found that Sam was still sleeping. Laughing softly to herself, she realized that he really must have been out of it the night before- he was always awake before she was.

She went about making coffee like Sam had shown her and then grabbed the newspaper off of the front steps. Coffee in hand, she walked over to the couch and stretched out on it, head propped at one end and feet at the other.

She held the newspaper in front of her, but she wasn't really reading it.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night before and to Sam. He'd never been quite as aggressively flirtatious before, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it. He had been charming and adorable in his own Sam-way, and he'd made her feel beautiful. More than that, he'd made her feel wanted.

And she could admit to herself that part of her wanted him, too. The other part was still scared- scared of rushing into something, scared of getting hurt again. If she was honest, she was even scared of hurting Sam.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Sam's door open. She heard his footsteps against the wooden floor as he came plodding into the kitchen. He looked like he usually did in the morning before his shower- pajama pants tied low around his waist, bare chest, scruffy face and disheveled hair.

Andy kind of liked seeing him that way, before he'd had a chance to get all cleaned up and ready for the day. Not many people got to see that side of him, the vulnerable and unguarded side.

He was rubbing at his eyes, like a child does when they're sleepy, and went straight for the coffee. She knew better than to try and talk to him yet, so she waited until he walked over to join her in the living room. Instead of asking her to move her feet so he could sit down, Sam lifted them in one hand and slid beneath, allowing them to come to rest on his lap.

"Your feet are freezing," he mumbled as a greeting.

Andy raised an amused eyebrow. "Good morning."

"'Morning," he replied gruffly as he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over her legs, tucking it around her feet. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you," Andy said, hiding a smile. Her feet hadn't been the slightest bit cold, but she wasn't going to say anything.

Sam took a sip of coffee and then leaned his head against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Andy asked.

"Oh, I've been better," Sam answered honestly, not bothering to open his eyes. Andy almost wondered if he had fallen asleep until he spoke, "We need to go to the grocery store at some point today."

"Okay," Andy agreed. "Do you want to get ready and go now?"

Sam stretched his legs out and rested them on the coffee table. "No." His head pounded and his body ached and he had no desire to move from right where he was.

"Do you want me to just go?" Andy asked, making a move to get up from the couch.

Sam stopped her. "No," he said, closing his eyes again and patting her feet that still rested in his lap. "Just stay here for now. We can go later."

Andy relaxed and settled back into the cushions. "Okay," she repeated, smiling softly as she took a sip of her coffee.

They never did make it to the grocery store. They didn't even make it out of their pajamas. Instead, they spent the day reading the newspaper, eating cereal for lunch, napping on the couch and watching a marathon of Law & Order. When it came time for dinner, Sam glanced over at Andy and suggested take out- there was no point in getting ready when there were so few hours left in the day. He'd barely gotten the question out before she'd agreed, requesting a place she used to order from all the time before moving in with Luke.

Andy realized it was the first time that day Luke had been mentioned, or thought about, at all. More surprisingly, she realized that when she said his name, there was nothing- no pang in her stomach, no ache in her heart.

She'd paused long enough for Sam to notice. "You okay?" he'd asked.

"Yeah," Andy had answered honestly for the first time in quite a while. "I'm good."

The next morning the precinct was abuzz with activity when they arrived for their shift. Best was yelling for everyone to hurry up and get to parade, so Sam and Andy parted ways and got changed quickly. They met back in the parade room just as Best was handing things over to Luke. Sam stayed in the back, sliding in next to Jerry, and Andy slipped into a chair next to Dov.

Luke posted a picture of a handsome man, probably in his early forties. He began giving the details they knew about the case. "Michael Creighton, age 43, found by police around four this morning after neighbors called in a disturbance. Creighton was dead at the scene." He posted another picture of the man lying face down in a pool of blood. "Shot in the head and chest multiple times by what looks like a .38. Wounds indicate a struggle. There are, however, no signs of forced entry."

"What do we know about him?" Oliver asked from the back of the room.

"Lived in an upper-middle class, low crime neighborhood, worked as an accountant at a firm here in the city," Luke said. He posted another picture of a pretty blonde woman. "Married to Ashley Creighton, age 28. She did not show up for work this morning and her car is missing from the garage."

"So we're thinking the wife did it?" Sam asked. "Spousal dispute gone south?"

"Right now she's our prime person of interest," Luke answered. "We have an APB out for her car, a silver Lexus RX 300. We also looking into Creighton's clients."

Gail raised her hand, "What about kids?"

"Michael and Ashley have been married a little over a year, no kids, but he does have two from a previous marriage- Justin, age 17 and Julianne, age 14. Joint custody but the ex-wife has them during the week," Luke explained. "We've sent an officer over to her house."

Best took over, handing out assignments. Andy and Sam were told to go to the school were Ashley Creighton worked as a second grade teacher and talk to her principal and coworkers. "See if Ashley ever talked about problems in the marriage, or if anyone has any idea where she might have taken off to," Luke told them.

"Got it," Sam said, following Andy out of the parade room.

They arrived at the elementary school where Ashley taught and went in to talk to the principal. "Mrs. Creighton has never just not shown up for work," the principal, Mrs. Lester, told them as she ushered them into her office. "Do you know what happened?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Andy said. "Do you know if Ashley has any family in the area? Anywhere she might go if she were in trouble?"

"Ashley doesn't have any family," the Mrs. Lester explained. "She was an only child and her parents died a couple of years ago in a car accident. That's how she and Michael met, he was her parents' accountant."

"Has she mentioned any problems with Michael lately?"

Mrs. Lester pursed her lips and shook her head. "No," she said, "She never mentioned anything. They always seemed very happy. The only thing she's ever said is that Michael's son has been challenging."

As Andy was talking with the principal Sam was moving about the office, looking at the pictures and diplomas Mrs. Lester had hung. He stopped in front of one, a team picture, and read the names at the bottom.

"Is that him?" He asked, pointing to one of the boys in the picture. "Justin Creighton?"

Mrs. Lester nodded. "That's him. He and my son Ethan played on the same travelling baseball team, which is probably the only reason Ashley ever said something to me about him."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked, her brow wrinkling.

"Well," Mrs. Lester replied hesitantly, "Justin was the pitcher on the team and was very talented. He was already offered a scholarship to play at the University of Toronto."

"Impressive," Andy commented.

"Well, it would have been, but in the final game of the season Justin got mad at the umpire for walking a guy." Mrs. Lester told them. "He punched the umpire in the face. He got suspended from the team and lost his scholarship. Ashley said that Michael was furious with him."

"How so?"

Mrs. Lester shrugged, "She never went into detail, just said that things were tense between Justin and his dad."

Sam gave Andy a significant look and tilted his head towards the door. Andy acknowledged him with a quick nod and then turned back to Mrs. Lester. "Okay, thanks for your help. Here's my card," she said, pulling a card from her pocket and handing it over, "If you think of anything else give us a call."

As they were walking back to their car Andy glanced over at Sam. "What're you thinking?"

"Same thing you're thinking," Sam said, opening his door.

Andy leaned against the car, her elbows pressing into the cold metal, and looked at Sam over the roof. "You think we should head over to the high school and find out where Justin was last night?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

Justin hadn't shown up for school that day. Andy and Sam tracked down Ethan Lester, the principal's son, to ask him what he knew about his friend.

"He's my teammate," Ethan told them when they pulled him out of class, "But that guy is not my friend."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"He's nuts," Ethan said, "He punched out an umpire."

"Yeah, you're mom told us about that," Sam said. "Listen, Ethan, did Justin lose his temper a lot?"

"He didn't use to," Ethan answered, shrugging, "But ever since his dad remarried its like he's gone crazy. He's really aggressive and he tries to fight about everything. If we weren't drug tested all the time for baseball I would swear he was on steroids."

"Did Justin ever say anything about his dad?" Andy asked. "Maybe about hurting him?"

Ethan shook his head, "Not really. He talked about his stepmom all the time though."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"It was weird," Ethan said. "Like about how hot she was and stuff. He was like, obsessed with her."

Andy flicked her eyes over to meet Sam's and they shared a look. "Ethan, one last thing and then we'll let you get back to class," Sam said. "Do you know of anywhere Ethan might go if he was in trouble?"

Ethan thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

Sam clapped the boy on the shoulder. "It's okay, thanks for your help buddy."

Andy and Sam turned to walk down the hallway but stopped when Ethan called out. "Maybe the clubhouse?"

"What clubhouse?" Andy asked, walking back towards Ethan.

"For our baseball team," Ethan said. "We're on the all-star travel team, the only one in our age group in Toronto." He held up a set of keys, "They gave us keys so we could use the weight room during the off-season, but most of us just work out here at school." Ethan shrugged, "Justin probably had to turn in his key when he was suspended, but it might be worth checking out."

Andy asked Ethan where the clubhouse was and then she and Sam sped over there. "Sam look," Andy said, pointing into the small parking lot. There was only one car in the otherwise abandoned lot. "Silver Lexus SUV. Plates match."

"Got him," Sam declared, calling for back up as he pulled up next to the car.

They found Ashley inside in one of the locker rooms, tied up and terrified. It was obvious from her torn clothing that she had been attacked and possibly raped. Justin was waving around the gun that he had used to kill his father but when both Sam and Andy drew their weapons, he surrendered.

They called for a ambulance to take Ashley to the hospital and Andy volunteered to ride with her while Sam took Justin back to the station. Because it was Luke's case, he and Sam worked the interrogation together, getting a full confession out of Justin in no time.

Oliver and Dov, the other two officers who had arrived at the scene, were watching the interrogation from the viewing room. After Justin signed his confession Sam motioned for Epstein to take him to booking.

After going over some of the details with Luke, Sam stood up to leave. "Nice work, Detective Callaghan," he said with sincerity. "Cased closed in a day, not too shabby."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." Luke repeated his name and then let out a low, humorless chuckle. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Sam had opened the door to the interview room, preparing to walk out. He let it close and turned to Luke. "Come again?" he asked calmly, unsure of whether he'd heard the detective correctly.

"It's incredible, really," Luke continued disingenuously, "how you're always able to take things right from underneath me."

Sam knew exactly where Luke was going and he tried to end the conversation before it began. "Look, let's not start this, okay?"

Luke ignored his request. "My cases," he said, waving his hand over the open files on the desk. He looked back up at Sam and narrowed his eyes. "My women."

"McNally and I followed a good lead, that's all," Sam said, still trying to diffuse the situation that he suspected could erupt at any moment. "A good lead that we got from doing what you asked us to do, alright? We weren't trying to take over your case. Sometimes you just get lucky."

"Oh," Luke said bitterly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. He winked conspiratorially, "I bet you are getting very lucky."

Sam ground his teeth together, fighting to keep control over his anger. "You've got something to say to me, that's fine, but don't talk about her like that," he warned.

"I'm actually surprised it took you as long as it did," Luke admitted, baiting him, "What was it? One month after ending things with me and she's already living with you?"

"Andy is not living with me," Sam corrected him sharply. "Nor is she sleeping with me. She's staying with me until her apartment is ready."

"Semantics," Luke argued. "She's right where you've always wanted her."

"You really want get into this right now?" Sam asked. "Here, at work?"

"Get into what?" Luke asked innocently. "You moving in on my fiancé?"

"Okay, first of all," Sam stated, "She's not your fiancé. In fact, I'm not even convinced she was ever supposed to be your fiancé."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She told me how you proposed," Sam told him, unable to resist the temptation to make Luke aware that Andy had confided in him, "After she found the ring in your lockbox. That ring wasn't for her."

"It was…"

"Don't lie." Sam cut him off sharply. "You bought that ring for Jo. You know it, I know it, Andy probably knows it too."

"I'm certain you've shared your theory with her," Luke accused.

"I actually try to talk about you as little as possible," Sam confessed. "And the times that I do talk about you, it's usually to patch up some dumbass thing you've done."

Luke snorted. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe you didn't use every chance you got to try and split us up."

Sam knew it was wrong and petty, but he couldn't help asking, "Why do you think she went to dinner with you the other night, huh?"

Luke shrugged, "I assume she wanted to talk."

"That's the last thing she wanted to do," Sam informed him. "She lost a bet. If it wasn't for me and three lucky aces, she'd probably still be ignoring all of your pathetic phone calls."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I couldn't care less what you believe," Sam responded candidly. "And it really doesn't matter now because, in case all of your drinking binges have led to some kind of short term memory loss, you and McNally broke up."

"We can still work things out," Luke insisted. "I still want her back."

"Well, that's just too damn bad buddy," Sam said, his voice filling with intensity as he leaned over Luke, "She doesn't want you back. You slept with someone else!"

Luke stood up, shoving his chair out of the way. It hit the wall with a harsh metallic clang. "And I bet that just made your day, didn't it? Knowing that I messed up so you could have your shot at Andy."

"You're a sick bastard if you think I took any pleasure in the fact that you hurt her," Sam told him between clenched teeth.

"Why wouldn't you?" Luke asked, stepping closer to Sam. "You've wanted her this whole time, now you get to be her knight in shining armor, sweep her off her feet. Isn't that right?"

"No," Sam said, not backing down from the taller man, "I wanted her to be with someone that would take care of her, that wouldn't hurt her. I thought that person was you." He paused, "Obviously I was colossally mistaken. Now, if there's a point to this Callaghan, other than you making a bigger jackass out of yourself than you already have, you better make it fast."

Luke chewed his bottom lip before asking, "So you want her now, is that it?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Sam said, "But yeah, I do. And you can be damn sure I won't screw it up like you did."

"What exactly makes you think you're better than me?"

"Well, in the time that I've known her I've managed not to sleep with any ex-lovers, so I've got that one up on you," Sam countered.

"Have you slept with anyone Sam at all?" Luke shot back, waving his arms out. "Or have you just been pining away for Andy?" On Sam's silence Luke grinned viciously. "How'd it make you feel, huh buddy? Going home every night, alone," he paused for emphasis, "knowing Andy was with me? Knowing she was in my bed?"

Sam worked his neck from side to side and then answered, in a creepily calm voice, "If Andy wanted to be with you, then that's where I wanted her to be."

Luke's eyes widened in incredulity. "Oh for Christ's sake, Sammy," he practically shouted. "Give up the martyr act. It's pathetic."

For a moment, Sam said nothing. He met Luke's gaze in a silent stare down.

"Fine," Sam said, "You want to know the truth?"

"That would be nice."

"It sucked at the time," Sam told him honestly, "But now, whether she's with me or not, I never have to wonder if she would rather be with you. I never have to wonder if she's thinking that maybe she made a mistake not picking you." He narrowed his eyes. "Can you say the same thing?"

"I knew from the beginning," Luke said, his voice low and controlled, "That you were going to cause problems. If it wasn't for you, Andy and I might still be together."

"You were the one that couldn't keep it in your pants. If it makes you feel better to lie to yourself about what happened, go ahead," Sam replied, "But you and I both know that Andy makes her own decisions and she decided to leave you. She asked you to leave her alone and you need to respect that."

"Just because Andy's not with me anymore," Luke said snidely, "It doesn't mean she's going to be with you."

Sam laughed humorlessly, "Yeah, I know that."

"So, what? You're just going to wait around until she makes up her mind?"

"Something like that," Sam nodded, "Yeah." He took a step to the door, finished with the conversation.

"Why?" Luke called out to him. "Why would you put yourself through that?"

Sam turned back to him. He studied the other man for a moment before answering. "Because," he replied simply, "I love her."

Andy got back from the hospital and immediately went to the locker room, wanting nothing more than to take a nice, hot shower. Ashley told her what happened on the way to the hospital. She had gotten up from bed to get a glass of water when she found Justin sitting in their living room, holding his father's gun. He attacked her and when Michael heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on, Justin and his father got into a physical fight. Tears streamed down Ashley's face as she recalled the gun going off and seeing blood pool underneath her husband.

Andy shook her head. She would never get used to some of the sick things that people did. She opened her locker to grab a towel and found a note propped against a set of keys.

McNally, Went home early, took a cab. Here are the keys to the truck. –Sam.

Andy thought it was odd that Sam would leave early after a big arrest so, forgetting about her shower, she stepped out of the locker room, hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on. Sweeping her eyes up and down the hallway's length she saw Oliver and Noelle walking together and called out to them. "Hey," she said, holding up the note that Sam left her, "Do you guys know why Sam left early?"

The two officers looked at each other in a tense, silent argument. Oliver rubbed his hand over his face, sighing.

"What is it?" Andy asked after a moment, worried.

Andy saw Noelle shake her head as if warning Oliver. He gave her a significant look and she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's your funeral," Andy heard the other woman mutter as she walked away.

Andy was growing more and more anxious. "Would someone please just tell me what's going on?"

"Come with me," Oliver said finally, "There's something you need to see."

Later, long after the sun had set, Andy pulled into the alleyway next to Sam's house and parked. She sat in the truck for a minute, still trying to process what Oliver had shown her.

Time passed, she wasn't sure how long, and she finally got out. The house was dark when she got inside. There was only one lamp on in the living room and by it Andy could see Sam sitting outside on the patio. He was looking out onto the street, drinking a beer.

Andy sighed and then grabbed her own beer out of the refrigerator. She figured she would probably need it.

She pulled the patio door open and stepped outside into the dark night. Sam turned his head at the noise, but didn't say anything. There was only one chair on the small patio, and Sam was occupying it, so Andy leaned her back against the cold metal railing. Even though she was standing right in front of him, Sam wouldn't look at her.

She took a sip of her beer and then broke the silence, her breath forming clouds in the bitterly cold air, "How'd you know the combination to my locker?"

In the darkness she could see his lips tug upward into a faint smile. "I've seen you open it about a dozen times."

"Ah."

He finally looked over at her. "You don't know mine?"

"38-15-26," Andy answered easily. "I've seen you open it a time or two as well."

Sam grinned before taking a deep breath and asking, "So I guess you heard what happened?"

"I saw it, actually," Andy admitted.

Sam's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

"You guys were videotaping the confession," she told him. "No one turned the recorder off."

"Well that's just," Sam shook his head and let out a low whistle, "Fantastic."

"Don't worry," Andy said, "The only people that know about it are Noelle, Oliver and Dov. I had Dov copy over the first part and then destroy the original. They don't really need it anyway, since you have the written confession."

"So you saw everything?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Andy confirmed.

Sam was silent. He swallowed hard and then said, "I'm sorry."

It was Andy's turn to be confused. "Why are you sorry?" She asked, her brow furrowing.

"He pissed me off," Sam told her, "I said things I probably shouldn't have said."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, so just stop," Andy pleaded. "Luke was being a jackass, I can't believe you were able to control yourself like you did."

Sam admitted, "I really wanted to punch him."

"I know you did," Andy said, laughing softly even though it wasn't funny. "I saw you make a fist a couple times. I was actually afraid for Luke, not that he didn't deserve it."

"Yeah, well.." Sam trailed off, shrugging.

"I'm sorry Sam," Andy said.

Sam looked at her, confused, "What for?"

Andy blew out a short puff of air and pushed her hair out of her eyes, "A lot of things, really. I'm sorry that Luke said all of those things to you," Sam waved it off, "And I'm sorry that I was just so…" She shook her head, trying to come up with the word, "Blind."

"Andy, look…" Sam started but Andy interrupted him.

"No, let me finish. I did have feelings for you," she admitted, "But then when things got more involved with Luke I just pushed those feelings aside and got really good at ignoring them. I didn't even think about what it must have been like for you." She felt sick to her stomach thinking about all the crap that she had put him through, all the times that she had turned to him about her problems with Luke. "I thought we could just be friends but now I realize how unfair that was to you."

"Andy, don't do that, don't beat yourself up. You didn't know and I didn't say anything. It's fine," Sam said, standing up to lean on the rail beside her. "Really. It's in the past and if it's okay with you I'd rather not relive it… again."

Andy nodded uncertainly, "Okay."

Sam cleared his throat, "If you don't want to stay here anymore, I'll pay for a hotel until your apartment is ready."

Andy took a step back, "What?" She asked, taken aback. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and tugged it, forcing him to look at her. "Why would you say that?"

"If you're uncomfortable staying here, I understand."

"Oh God," Andy said, rolling her eyes. "You're such a idiot sometimes. I don't want to go anywhere."

"You don't?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "Why would you even think that?"

"Well, I gotta be honest," Sam said, "I don't really know where we stand right now."

Andy was quiet for a moment, studying him in the darkness. "Sam, this thing, you and me," she said, motioning between the two of them. She took a deep breath and squinted, admitting, "Whatever it is, I know it's real. And I know I want it." She paused and then rambled on, "I just know I'm not ready. And I know that's incredibly selfish and I have no right to ask you to wait until I am because you've already waited so long for me to figure it out, but that's what I'm doing. I'm asking for you to wait until I'm ready. And I'm sorry for that. I'm so, so sorry."

Sam had been nodding slowly while she spoke and when she got to the end he smiled at her, a soft, understanding smile. "You done?" He asked.

She just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Sam set his own beer on the small table and then reached for hers. She handed it to him and he set it down as well.

"Will you come here, please?" He requested hoarsely, holding his hand out to her. She took it and allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. Andy twined her own arms around his slim waist and rested her head against his shoulder. They stood there in silence, listening to the sounds of the city and watching as cars drove by.

Sam finally spoke. "I think, whether you admit it or not, that you already knew."

Andy nodded against him, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Yeah, I guess I did," she confessed.

"So it's really not like anything has changed," Sam said. "I was good with where we were and where I thought we were headed."

"Where were we, exactly?" Andy asked quietly.

"Well, from what I recall, you were kissing me and taking my clothes off, so if you want to start there I'm fine with that," Sam joked, laughing as Andy elbowed him in the stomach. "I'm kidding. I don't know, Andy," he admitted, "But I was happy. Were you happy?"

"Yeah," Andy agreed, "I was happy."

"Okay," Sam said, "So we don't need to talk this thing to death. We are where we are and we'll move forward when we're both ready, how does that sound?"

Andy looked up at him and smiled. "That sounds good."

"Good." He pressed his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. "Now," he asked, tilting his head towards his house,"Are you ready to move this thing inside? Because I'm starting to lose feeling in my extremities."

Andy laughed. "Yeah," she said, pulling him towards the door. "I think I'm ready for that."