A/N FIVE MONTHS?! I'm so so so sorry! I'm officially the worst fan fiction writer ever. SORRY, again. I didn't anticipate simply passing university was going to be this big of a challenge. Trust me, not a day went by that I didn't feel guilty for making you all wait, especially because you leave the sweetest, kindest reviews ever. So here goes nothing!

"I can't believe you."

He was seething, his fists clenched by his side and she could see the veins in his neck making their appearance. But his voice was calm. Ugh, she hated when he did that. It was like when she was a kid and her dad didn't yell at her for doing something wrong, he just gave her that look. That disappointed look. And her teenage self always found herself wishing that we he would just yell, but at least then she could…well, yell back. But adult Andy wasn't so sure that she wanted him to let that restraint go right now. She felt battered enough. And hello, he had no right to be mad at her.

"I'm sorry?"

"I can't believe you almost got yourself…in the storage locker? By yourself? Are you crazy?"

"I wouldn't have been by myself if you hadn't walked away," she snapped.

Her words were like ice. Cold and harsh, but they were no surprise. He had been thinking them the entire day.

"You said it was fine," which he hadn't believed in the first place but said it anyways for argument's sake.

She shot him a look that screamed 'idiot' without her ever having to. "You should have trusted me!" she growled out between clenched teeth.

"I do trust you. I just don't trust HIM."

"This has nothing to do with him," she retorted indignantly.

"He cheats on you, he's clearly a liar and an asshole and you still follow his leads like a lost puppy!"

She exhaled angrily, "Are you kidding me?! That happened ages ago!"

They were standing in the living room, like something out of a bad rom-com. You know, the part where the main characters get into a fight over something stupid and it usually leads to one of them slamming the door and taking a job in some far away city, where there then proceeds to be the enlightenment of the other and a dramatic airport scene and kiss in the rain. Yeah, like that, before the happy ending. Her wine glass had long been set down on the table, as shaky hands turned into wild frustrated gestures. Their voices escalated loudly and Sam was just glad they're at his house because he's sure her neighbours would have called the cops. Well, they are the cops. But the evil look Mr. Robbins gives him every time he walks up to her door doesn't exactly scream trust. And even though they were standing in the centre of the damn room, Sam felt cornered. He had started it. Not even just that night, but six hours earlier when he decided to throw a temper tantrum and walk away from her. Yes, he knew he was wrong. Of course he was wrong. But Luke and his gelled blonde hair and Armani suits, the way he leers at Andy and nobody at 15 even sees what's going on…

"So?! It doesn't change what he did."

"No it doesn't. But it also doesn't change the fact that he's a damn good detective," she snarled, still in disbelief that he could even start this conversation with her. "And it doesn't change the fact that you left and are now yelling at me because I was alone without my partner!" her voice rose in pitch, ears flaming, wisps of hair coming undone from her bun.

"Fine. But how could you go in there by yourself? That was so…stupid!" he spat the last word out, watching as hurt and anger played across her face.

She stepped forward, eyes narrowing, her voice much louder than it needed to be considering her proximity to his ears. "We wouldn't even be having this problem if you could just TALK to me. Like a normal human being. I love you, I've said that, I've shown that, and you still don't let me in! Today? This wasn't some stupid story about Graham and Duke that you made up! It was very real. Those fingers around my neck weren't made up. I was alone in a storage locker, being choked by a deranged murderer because you couldn't open your damn mouth and talk to me. You threw your hot dog in the trash after ranting about how stupid I was to believe Luke. Very constructive. I am Andy, not Sandy. This isn't just a story, it's a relationship. And you need to trust me. And communicate without hiding behind a fictional character," she screamed, breathily heavily before her voice dropped, tired and pained.

"I lied, Sam. It's not okay. It is definitely not okay."

He stood, shell shocked by the loud explosion of her words, the shrapnel each letter sent flying into his chest. His mouth opened, then closed, and the disappointed look on her face reminded him again of his failure to say the things she desperately needed to hear. Instead, the only sound that could be heard was the soft padding of her feet wordlessly screaming at him as she walked to the bedroom, the quiet closing of the door as the punctuation to the sentence.

He didn't know how much time had passed before he shuffled into the bedroom, broken and sheepish and apologetic. But she wouldn't look at him. She felt the bed dip, she heard his sigh, but her anger still filled her with lead; cold and unmoving.

"I don't…I don't know how to do this. It's not about Luke, Andy. You know that. It's…I can't imagine you not being here, being around, every night. Forcing me to watch CSI, and doing dishes together. And you just…you run into things with your lion's heart and you never think about how destroyed I'd be if…God, I sound so selfish."

He stopped, and there was no longer the comfortable silence they normally enjoyed, but a pregnant pause chock full of expectations.

"I was really scared today, Andy. And…I guess I got angry because I feel like sometimes you just forget about the shitload of people that need you around. I'm frustrated because I'm scared all the damn time, and I don't know how to fix it…fix me. I don't know how to make myself into the person you need me to be."

"I wish I was Graham. And I know that's fiction. But don't you see…he's the ideal Sam. The Sam that could look at Luke and not want to punch a wall. Or comfort you after today, not scream in your face. I know he's not real. I just can't…I don't know how…"

"I'm so sorry, Andy."

He saw her shoulders shake before he heard her sniffles, like thunder before lightning. Ignoring the stiffness in her body, he pulled her into his arms.

"I'm still mad at you," she choked out, despite currently crying into his chest.

"I know. I'm still mad at me."

"Isn't it funny how I'm the one that asked for the story in the first place?"

Sam thought back to the first phone call. Her adorably sleepy voice, his mild irritation. Then her asking him out, saying I love you. "I won't tell it anymore," he mumbled.

And there it was. The prospective 'The End' to the story. Minus the happily ever after. As of now, anyways. He was going to have to settle for a less Nicholas Sparks-y story; his own. Still, he couldn't help but feel sad. It felt like the end of something much more than just a stupid bedtime story started by a late night phone call.

"No. Don't. It's…It's not the story, Sam. It's fine if you tell it. I like it. I just need you to be able to talk to me without it. Sooner or later, you're going to run out of plotlines and then what? We are more than Graham and Sandy. We're real life. I don't need you to be anyone but you. But I need to know what's going on in your head. I'm sorry I said some of those things, I know this story always was more than just a bedtime thing. It brought us closer. But I want Sam, not Graham. Sam's my partner. He's my rock. My person."

"I know, I'll try. I promise."

She sighed quietly, "I don't forgive you yet. But I will. I will. It'll take time. And some effort on both our parts, but we'll get there."

He just pulled her closer. The promise of a future was there, and that was all he needed. And for now, the adventures of Sam and Graham would stay floating in his head. Sleeping to dream about them, until he could make them a reality.

So that's it for now. I really hope you enjoyed, and I'm hoping to try as hard as Sam and post another chapter soon! Thanks for reading, and waiting, and not hunting me down. Merry belated Christmas and Happy New Year!