Okay… so this is the total opposite of what I had in mind when I started writing. But the story kept writing itself and the idea was just too precious to give up. So I stopped fighting myself and decided to just have fun with it. Please comment, did I get the characterizations right here? I know it isn't the most likely situation, but I was mainly going off Traci & Andy's girl night where Andy exhibits a completely different, bold and cheeky side. "Best mistake of my life!" was one of my favorite lines of the season. I live for reviews, please keep them coming. It's how I improve.

Jess: Me too! But personally I don't think it'll be that easy. Andy is pretty confused atm.

Hannah-jennifer: Thanks for the tip. Let me know if this is better.

aolande1, romanticalme, CDNA, & Lileigh: Aw, thanks for your support! This chapter is dedicated to you for being so kind in your initial reviews.

Rest: Thanks for your encouragement. I hope you enjoy this next one as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Running on Alcohol

(set after "Serve or Protect", before "In Blue")

"Trace, you're being paranoid."

"I may be paranoid, but I'm not daft, Andy!"

Traci's voice took on a matronly tone. "Whatever happened to keeping Mr. Stick-Up-His-Ass Swarek on ice?"

"Does that make it a sexy stick or a lucky stick," Andy wondered out loud, giving Traci a deliciously cheeky look.

"You are totally drunk all the way down to your tippy toes on him aren't you?"

"For the last time Trey, we're just friends. We're friendly, and I swear that's all." Andy put her best effort into giving Traci a huge pout, but who was she kidding? She couldn't hold a grudge against Traci. Not for long anyway, and her expression soon gave way to a wide smile at Traci's piercing stare.

Traci noted the dreamy look on her friend's face and decided that she needed to push harder.

"Then do you mind telling me why exactly you were out getting milkshakes with your TO instead of getting busy and doing the dirty with that guy, oh whats-his-face? You know, the one you're supposedly dating?" Traci literally bellowed out the final word, making clear her point.

"Doing the dirty? Seriously Trace? We're not fifteen," Andy replied, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Stop deflecting and answer the question, sweetie," Traci deadpanned with a pointed look.

"Well it was a long day. And with my Dad and Luke… I mean it's not like I have the world's best father." Andy let out a disgusted sigh. "The last thing I need is to open up about my Daddy insecurities to my new boyfriend, who just so happens to be the lead detective on a case in which my Dad was a suspect nonetheless. "

"Point taken. But you could have come to me Andy," Traci lovingly reminded, reaching out to take Andy's hand.

"Yeah, I know. But Sam said you and Jerry had just left, and I didn't want to disturb you doing the dirty with your boyfriend," Andy lied. Well, it was only a partial lie. She knew the two of them had enough trouble finding time alone with Leo in the picture. So it was true that she hadn't wanted to intrude on one of the few nights where they had the house to themselves. But, she silently admitted to herself, she hadn't exactly gone to Penny's looking for her either.

Traci sat back and studied her friend. It sounded reasonable enough, but she had been best friends with Andy long enough to know that it wasn't the whole truth. Pouring the both of them another glass of wine, she knew that Andy wasn't ready to admit everything to her. Not yet at least. However, she decided with a hidden smirk, that didn't mean that she had to let Andy off the hook so easily.

"To the men in our lives," Traci toasted. "May they look past our Daddy issues and serve to worship the ground beneath us." Andy chortled at that and clinked their glasses together.

Three bottles of wine and a couple shots of peppermint schnapps later, the two of them had drunk-dialed Diaz, sent several suggestive texts to Dov, and were dancing like idiots and singing at the top of their voices to Bon Jovi in the background, all the while dressed only in underpants and tank tops.

Collapsing onto the sofa after a particularly strenuous performance of "You Give Love a Bad Name", they continued to giggle like a couple of high school kids stopping only when they were completely out of breath.

"Dov says to send him pictures".

Andy made a face and stuck out her tongue, responding, "Oooh, shouldn't he be asking his own personal stripper girlfriend for that?"

"I bet he's got videos!" squealed Traci, which both of them followed up with another bout of tipsy laughter. When that had died down, Andy stood up and excused herself to go get a glass of water.

'Click'. The flash of Traci's phone startled Andy. "What on earth?" snapped Andy, twirling around in surprise to see her friend's toothy grin.

"I, Traci Nash, have a proposition for you, Any McNally," Traci exclaimed, a wicked gleam in her eyes. "It's simple really. All you have to do is drunk dial a person of my choice, and I won't send this picture to Dov."

With widening eyes, Andy griped "That's not a proposition. That's blackmail!"

"I'm sure he'll appreciate the perfect ass shot and that hot red lace," teased Traci, easily thwarting Andy's attempts at snagging the phone from her grasp. After a few more failed tries at retrieving the phone, Andy switched to sweet talking but Traci was having none of it.

"Is Andy McNally admitting that she's chicken?"

"No!," insisted Andy, groaning at her misfortune. "Fine," she relented. "But the dancing's got most of the alcohol out of my system, so it's not going to be a drunk dial per se."

"Liar!" Traci smiled, knowing she had her friend exactly where she wanted her.

Andy chuckled and sat back down, the alcohol still strongly coursing through her body. "Alright. So who's the lucky target? Jerry? Gail? That dude from the bar who dreamt up that gem of a pickup line - 'You remind me of Swiss cheese. Holy, like an Angel .' "

Crowing at the memory of their disastrous double date from a year ago, Traci doubled over with tears streaming down her face.

"No", she finally managed. "But I'll have to remember him for next time."

"May I remind you that the only reason I got into that situation in the first place was all your fault, thank you very much. It took weeks before I got him to stop calling!" a glowering Andy scolded.

"In my defense, he seemed like a nice guy at first glance. And come on… you have to admit that night was pretty hilarious."

A smile found its way onto Andy's lips, and she joined Traci in laughter. "Enough with the suspense already. Who is it?" Andy demanded.

Looking her friend straight in the eyes, Traci's reply was calm and cool, very much the opposite of the response it elicited from Andy.

"What?" cried Andy, bolting straight up from her seat.

"You heard me."

Andy paled slightly and looked to her friend desperately. "Trace, please don't make me do this. I can't drunk dial Sam Swarek in the middle of the night. What would I say?"

"You could ask him what he's wearing…," snickered Traci, mentally patting herself on the back for this stroke of genius that was going to make tonight oh so memorable.

"Wasn't it you who told me that I needed to stay away?"

"Oh, now is a convenient time to suddenly start listening to me. Besides, didn't you say the two of you were friendly?"

Letting out a frustrated sigh, Andy pleaded, "He's my TO, Trace. There should be a rule against it. Handbook addendum: No drunk-dialing your training officer."

"Yeah, go tell Best that during the next Parade," Traci snorted.

Andy hesitated not knowing how to get out of her predicament.

Traci lifted an eyebrow and put on her toughest dare-me-to voice. "Does this mean I'm going to be giving Dov some highly inappropriate dreams tonight?" She waved the phone threateningly in the air, her thumb poised over the 'Send' button.

Snatching up her house phone, Andy gave Traci the evil eye and promised, "You are so going to pay for this Traci Nash!"

"Here, this will help," coaxed Traci, pouring Andy a generous helping from the bottle of extra strong liquid courage she had lying around.

"I'm going to need more than that to live through this," she muttered in response, accepting another shot from the giggling Traci.

Allowing herself a few minutes for the alcohol to set in, Andy pushed the speed dial number that was Sam's and soon heard ringing on the other end. "If he doesn't pick up, you're helping me come up with an excuse for tomor… Oh hi, Sam?"

"Something wrong McNally?" Sam's groggy voice was tinged with obvious concern. Traci reached over and switched on the loudspeaker with an excited sparkle in her eye.

Not that she would ever admit it, but Andy's stomach did cartwheels upon hearing his voice. "Uh, no. No. Nothing's wrong," she fumbled, trying to come up with something to say.

"Cat caught your tongue," Sam asked impatiently.

"Erm, yes. You could say that. Plenty of cats here… Dogs too. Say Sam, are you a cat or dog person?" Andy scowled at Traci who was starting to crack up on the couch.

After a long pause, Sam answered. "You do own a clock, don't you McNally?"

In a teasing voice, she countered, "Why? Do clocks make you tick?" Andy giggled softly, feeling a familiar woozy feeling take hold.

Not getting a response, Andy continued on. "Did I ever tell you about my neighbor's dog, Sam?"

Still no response.

"Oh, he was like the Brad Pitt of dogs. So gorgeous in fact that I wanted to date the guy. You ever meet an animal you wanted to date, Sam? I mean, you seem like the kinda guy who'd have a thing for big cats."

Traci choked on her drink, snorting in disbelief that Andy had gone there. Quickly, she held her hand up to her mouth muffling any additional sounds. Andy threw her a pointed look to shut the hell up.

Not catching the lion reference, Sam's agitated reply came in the form of another question. "It's late, McNally. Can you get to your point?"

Disappointed that she hadn't gotten him to play along, Andy decided it was time to up her game. Putting on her most seductive voice, she whispered huskily.

"I just wanted to know what color you had on."

"What color?" Sam blurted out, unable to hide his utter confusion.

"Uh huh."

"Color of …?"

"Come on Sam. We both know there's only one thing you're wearing right now. That is, if you're wearing anything at all."

Wide awake now, Sam jolted up in his bed in stunned silence. Did McNally really just say that or was this some sick joke his mind was playing on him, he wondered.

Andy smiled, knowing she had him in her web. "Do you need me to spell it out for you? What color Sam?"

"Gray."

"Gray's a good color, though personally I'd prefer you in black."

Silence on his end.

The alcohol fully taking its toll on her, Andy beamed from ear to ear, feeling even more adventurous.

"Say Sam, how do you feel about the color red?"

"Red's a good color," came his wary reply.

"Well that's good then. Very good," she said suggestively, emphasizing both words before collapsing into girly giggles once again.

Another long pause. "Andy, have you been drinking?"

Sam wondered why it had taken him so long to figure it out, blaming it on the comatose state he had been in right before her call had dragged him back in to a dazed consciousness. By this time, Traci, unable to hold it in any longer, burst out howling with laughter and holding her hands to her aching sides.

"Is that Nash with you," came Sam's cross voice over the speaker.

Andy had also exploded into laughter along with Traci and didn't respond. But for Sam, it had been a rhetorical question. Of course it was Traci.

When the pair finally quieted down, Sam in his most threatening voice warned, "Officer Nash, if you ever breathe a word of this to anyone, you'll have hell to contend with."

Mortified, she assured him, "Of course Sir. I wouldn't dream of it." Throwing Andy a terrified look, she silently mouthed the word "Crap".

"And McNally," he growled.

"Yes Sam?" Andy's voice still had a hint of teasing to it.

"Lay off the drink. Get some sleep." With a definitive click, all that was left was the beeping tone of a dropped call.

"I am in soooo much trouble right now," Traci panicked as she groaned and rested her head on her hand.

"Serves you right for blackmailing me," Andy joked, her tone light and unconcerned, knowing that the worst Sam would do was serve her extra paperwork and make her get his coffee. "Guess you should have thought of that, huh?"

"Guess I should have," Traci begrudgingly admitted, reaching for the bag of pretzels with the aim of stuffing herself silly.

With the adrenaline dying down, they just sat there in comfortable silence letting the minutes pass by, each one wrapped up in their own thoughts.

"Hey Andy?"

"Yeah Trace?"

"That was kinda fun, wasn't it?"

Andy looked up to see Traci's huge grin. "Yeah Trace… it was."

Traci considered her friend's relaxed demeanor, taking note of the agreeable smile on her lips, the twinkle in her eyes, and even the unconscious but happy sigh that she had let loose. "Sure... they are just friends all right", she thought sarcastically to herself. Andy McNally was hopelessly head over heels smitten by her TO, even if she didn't know it yet. But Traci knew better than to interfere. This was one realization that she needed to come to by herself. You may have fooled yourself Andy McNally, but I wasn't born yesterday.

Satisfied that she had drawn out the truth from her unwilling and unsuspecting victim, Traci flipped her phone open and lamented, "It's a pity about this photo. Your butt sure looks good in here."

Bouncing off the couch and holding her hand out, Andy cried, "Let me see that!"

"Nuh-uh. Not unless I get to send it to Swarek. After all, he did say red's a good color."

"Trace!"