Hello!

I hope you all are enjoying this story so far. I quite enjoy writing it. Fun fact, longest chapter! Woo! It's actually the longest chapter of both my Rookie Blue stories so far. Craz-eh. That's really all I have to say except...

Thank you to: x. imagine. x., hannah-jennifer, Cythera. of. Naxen, flirtt., tony8717, Taylor-Cullen-Black-Swan, RookieGinge, nightfog, and Hope06.

Disclaimer: Don't own it. Simple as that.

Sam pulled the car up to my apartment and put it in park. As I unbuckled my seat belt, I turned to him and said, "I'll just go grab some stuff and I'll be right back." He nodded inattentively. Slightly confused, I opened the door and hopped out. I walked towards the door but paused when I heard the car door shut behind me. Sam walked around the front of the car and up to me. He then stood perfectly still, waiting for me to open the door.

"I said I'd be right back."

He smiled at me like he knew the world's biggest secret and shrugged. I shook my head and proceeded to unlock the front door. I stepped in, and Sam didn't hesitate to follow. He began examining the room and everything that was in sight. "This is a nice place you've got. The fresh scent of au de cardboard box. The cozy feeling of bubble wrap," he joked.

"Hey! I'm just moving in. Give me a break. At least you don't see me in a ratty, smelly shack with one plant and an audiotape of Moby Dick," I countered with a smug smile as I headed towards my what-would-be bedroom. He put down a picture frame, setting it back in the open box he had gotten it from, and spun towards me.

"Hey, now. I was undercover. Everything changes when you're undercover," he defensively yelled back at me.

I rolled my eyes, not really caring for his argument. I walked into my room, shouted a brief "I'll just be a minute. And stop touching my stuff!", and then closed the door. I quickly threw on a pair of jeans without a thought. It was finding a shirt that would prove to be somewhat of a challenge. 'Come on, McNally! No one cares what you wear. Sam doesn't care what you wear. For God's sake, he has to see you in that bloody uniform! That very unflattering uniform...' Typically I didn't care too much about my clothing unless I was going out. But something about the fact that Sam was waiting just beyond my bedroom door for me seemed to be the exception to that statement.

"You really do take this long trying to figure out what to wear, don't you?" Sam yelled.

I growled in frustration. 'There's really no winning in this predicament, is there?' I shuffled through my drawer of shirts and made a snap decision, pulling out an emerald green t-shirt. My mind flashed back to the previous conversation Sam had just referred to, and I tossed it aside heatedly. I instead grabbed a navy shirt and threw it on as fast as possible. I ripped the door open to reveal a more than pleased with himself Sam. He overtly eyed me, taking in my appearance. I felt a nervous sweat start at his eyes wandered over my body.

He shrugged halfheartedly and said a dismissive, "Not too bad."

I recovered quickly and shot back, "Uh-huh, because I need your approval, right? Besides, not your type anyway, remember?" I gave him a winsome smile as I passed him.

His response was merely a slight laugh. "Yeah... yeah."

Before I could really analyze his reply, he suggested we get going. "Right," I said as I went for my keys. I patted the pockets of my jeans, but realized after doing so that they obviously wouldn't be there. I walked back to the door frame of my room and peered in. After doing a quick scan, I turned back towards the front door. I went up to the row of boxes and checked, thinking maybe for some absurd reason I had put them there. I grumbled, completely vexed.

I whirled around to face Sam. "Where the hell did I-"

Sam dangled the keys in the air, grinning like a madman. I forced myself to resist yelling at him and instead settled with stomping up to him, nearly nose to nose, yanking the keys from his hand, and saying, "Thank you," in the most sour voice I could muster. The most sour voice I could muster was pathetic though because deep down, I had the slightest urge to laugh.

Sam opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off. "No really, thank you. We should do this more often."

We both started walking towards the door when he said, very nonchalantly, "All you had to do was ask."

I groaned again in frustration and turned to him. "Are you just out to get me today?"

"We discussed this, McNally. Just doing my job." I narrowed my eyes at him and pointed out the door. He smiled at me and walked out of the room, heading back to the car. 'Most. Infuriating. Man. Ever.'

The drive to the station consisted of nothing but bickering. Bickering and empty glares.

"That's what you said."

"That is not what I said!"

I scoffed as I followed after Sam. "Yes, it was. And what about that fake warrant? Is that part of your job too? To nearly get me killed and make a bad arrest?"

Sam half turned around, still keeping his pace, as he replied, "No, it wasn't. And no, that isn't part of my job - that's the exact opposite of my job. And you wouldn't have been killed, McNally. I only did it because I knew that was the only way to get you in there. And it had to be you because she wouldn't come with me, Miss Protocol."

I scoffed again at him. "This coming from the man who laughs in the face of rules."

He slowed as we approached Dov and raise a defiant hand in the air. "Hey, only certain rules."

I shook my head in doubt then said to Dov, "So do we know who she is yet?"

Dov whipped around in surprise then replied, "Whoa! Hi. Uh, no. Abby hasn't really told us anything valuable except her age. However, we now know her favorite kind of donuts are boston cremes, her favorite food is spaghetti and meatballs, and she wants a dog named 'Spot.'" Dov raised a finger for every fact he had learnt. I smiled, a slight laugh breaking through. Sam walked up to the desk and examined the files sprawled across it.

"What about the woman? Any idea who she is yet?"

Dov raised his hands in an 'I don't know' manner. "Shaw just started questioning her a minute ago." Sam nodded and matched off to the interviewing rooms. I glanced at Dov then followed after Sam. With Dov right on my heels, I stopped Sam before he entered the room.

"Sir, I want to he-"

Sam raised his hand to cut me off. "No. You and Epstein can watch." I frowned at Sam in disappointment and reluctance. All of us rookies had been rookies for a while now, and I didn't quite understand why we couldn't participate in the interrogation. Before I could contend, he soundlessly slipped into the interrogation room and shut the door. I faced Dov who wore a slightly broken expression on his face. He shrugged in resignation and headed towards the observation room.

And so we stood there, watching our training officers do the job while we sat there doing absolutely nothing. It was like we were children again, and I hated that feeling.

Oliver was sitting in the chair across from the woman looking very stressed. Sam, unlike Oliver, was circling around the table trying to intimidate her. I watched in slight amazement; I would never be able to sit still and say nothing through an interrogation with Sam. As he continued circling, no one said anything. Not Oliver, not Sam, not the woman.

"Let's try this again, shall we? Name," Oliver said sternly.

The woman fidgeted but kept quiet.

Sam's patience was growing weary, and he slapped his hand on the table causing everyone, including me and Dov, to flinch. "Name!"

A sob ripped from the woman's throat.

Sam walked over to one of the corners of the small room and peered at her maliciously. Dov and I looked at each other, sharing a mutual expression of concern. I swallowed nervously.

Oliver took a different approach. "Look, we want to help you. But we can't help you unless-"

The woman jumped away from Oliver's extended hand. After witnessing her reaction, Oliver pulled his hand back quickly. Sam walked over to the woman and bent next to her, about to speak.

"Get the hell away from me! Get away from me!" she screeched. She shoved Sam away as best as she could and stumbled out of her chair, pressing her back against the opposing wall. A look of perplexity was written on both Oliver's and Sam's faces. The only noise that fell on our ears were the woman's ragged breaths, and it was in that silence that an idea came to me.

I hurried out of the observation room, leaving behind a confused Dov, and opened the door to the interview room. "Officer Swarek, can I speak to you for a minute."

He made no effort to hide his expression of anger - he was clearly pissed. After the door shut, it only took Sam a second to bellow, "Damn it, McNally! What is it?"

"I think I know why she's not talking," I said collectedly.

He smiled sneeringly at me. "She's not talking because she's being stubborn, McNally."

I ignored his snide comments and continued, "I think I should do the interrogation."

Sam let out a sharp laugh and turned away, clearing his thoughts. He turned back to me and said, "We do not have time for this, okay? We need to find out who this woman is."

"I think it's because you're guys. I think she has a problem with men or some kind of fear. I don't know." Sam sighed tiredly. He was probably fed up with my reasoning. Nevertheless, I continued. "But did you see the way she flinched away from Oliver. He didn't do anything, he didn't come on strongly, he didn't say anything harsh. There's something up, I know it." I watched him have a lengthy internal debate on whether or not to believe me.

After pinching the bridge of his nose, he agreed. "Alright, fine. You get a few minutes. If she doesn't say anything, we're pulling you out of there."

I hide my relief and nodded professionally. "Of course."

Sam reopened the door and barely stepped in. "Officer Shaw, Officer McNally is going to take it from here." Oliver stood up numbly and exited the room without a word. The door shut with a 'click' after Sam gave me a look of warning. I remained standing in the same spot, reflecting her movements; we observed each other, unmoving.

"What's your name?" I asked gently.

The woman said nothing; she merely shook her head at me. I groaned internally then took a step closer to her.

"What's your name? It's just me - no one is going to hurt you."

In my mind I could hear Oliver asking Sam what the hell I was doing. 'I wish I knew...' I continued taking steps towards her as slowly as I physically could. "Did someone hurt you?" Tears started streaming down her face as she bit her quivering lip. The bright fluorescent lights hanging above us made her eyes look sunken, creating a helpless, distraught image.

"I need you to talk to me, okay? I can help you. Just-... please."

She continued sobbing and sniffling until she blurted, "He said he would kill me!" Instantly, a million different thoughts started firing through my brain.

"Who? Who said he would kill you?"

"He did!" She sunk down into a ball against the wall and began weeping endlessly. I was paralyzed, unsure of what movements to make. I stared blankly at the mirror as if in search of someone else's eyes. My gaze returned to the woman who was trying to pick herself up off the ground.

"Amy Fairchild."

"What?" I asked, thrown off guard.

"My name. Amy Fairchild. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't want to. I just- it wasn't-... I had no choice!" She started sobbing again. I closed the distance between us and put an arm behind her back to lead her to one of the chairs. She willingly sat down and buried her face in her hands. I sat down in the other chair and waited for her to regain composure. She wiped her nose while gasping for air.

"Uhm... A while ago I started seeing this guy." She stopped for a moment to wipe the water off her tear-stained face. "And recently things have just started getting, you know, out of hand." She began fidgeting with her hands.

My mind wandered off to the worse. "Did he do anything to you? Did he hurt you?"

She smothered a sob then replied, "He's not like that usually. It's just because I found his book. And I was going to come to the police as soon as I found it, but he caught me. I didn't think it was real - I thought it was some sick joke. He's just not like that, you know?"

"Who? Who's not like what? What was in his book?" I was getting slightly frustrated. She had been doing nothing but leaving me with more unanswered questions.

"He said he'd kill me. I was scared he really would after seeing that book. I wanted to get her somewhere. I didn't want her involved with me. That's why I left her there. I didn't want to. I didn't know what to do," Amy wailed. I looked past her and focused on the mirror again. I could see my reflection - a panicked, confused, sorrowful Andy McNally. But I could still feel everyone else's eyes boring into mine behind the glass. I looked back to Amy.

"Abby? You left Abby in the park because you didn't want her to get hurt. Amy, who did you think was going to hurt her?"

"He w-" she trailed off, shoving her face back in her hands and sobbed harder.

I leaned forward. I really needed her to talk, and we were wasting time. My voice became more authoritative. "Amy, I need you to talk to me, okay? Listen, we've got Abby. She's safe, she's perfectly fine, but I think she's a little confused. And we are too. So we need you, I need you, to tell me what you know. It's the only way we can get to the bottom of this and keep you and Abby safe."

Amy calmed herself down and wiped her face with the sleeve of her surely dampened, pink longsleeved shirt. After taking a few breaths she said, "Like said, I found his book. It was a scrapbook. I found it when I was just cleaning up, you know? It was a whole bunch of women and they were- oh god..." She broke off, fighting more tears.

"Who, Amy? Who is this guy? I need to know."

"Tanner Lloyd." She stared down at her folded hands on the table. I sighed in relief. "He said I was next."

I raised a hand, trying to calm her down, and reached out to her. "Okay, it's okay. We're not going to let tha-"

The door swung open to reveal an anxious Sam. "McNally, I need to talk to you."

"But I'm-" I said with a frown, but he cut me off.

"Now." The amount of force in his voice sent a slight wave of fear through me. I stood up out of my chair without saying a word and left the interrogation room. As soon as the door closed I snapped at him. "What the hell? She's finally talking to me. You said if she didn't say-"

"It's not that." I stared at him with impatience. I was on a roll, and I was not impressed with the fact he was breaking that roll. I nodded at him, waiting for him to continue. He watched an officer pass by, waiting for him to be a safe distance away, until he finally said, "I think we just opened 4 cold case murders."

Oh snap!

Sooo yes. If Tomorrow Came has hit a slow patch. I'm struggling just a wee bit but the next chapter should be up soon as well. Let me know what you all think. And I really hope you enjoyed reading!

RxR
MichaellaLoe