Author's Note: Thank you for all the wonderful feedback on the last chapter! I tried to reply personally to everyone but I just wanted to reiterate how much I appreciate your reviews! They really do make my day.
On a separate (more important) note, I wanted to let you all know that this chapter gets into why Lindsey is living with Sam. The whole story isn't told, that will come out in time, but I think it's pretty obvious what happened. I just wanted you to know that I recognize it's a sensitive topic and I didn't make the decision lightly. There were several different options that I thought of for Sarah, but as I began to write this chapter I felt the one I chose was the most realistic. It definitely was not a flippant decision and I don't anyone to be offended or think I'm taking it lightly. I'm going to do my best to treat Sarah and Lindsey's story as sensitively and honestly as possible. If you have any questions please feel free to private message me and I will be more than happy to go more in-depth about why I chose to go the way I did.
With that said, I hope you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.
It had been a couple of weeks since Sam met Andy. Since their run in at the bar he had caught a glimpse of her here and there, but had rarely spoken to her beyond the occasional "hello" or "good morning."
She always smiled at him, which he found to be incredibly annoying. He knew there was no way she could actually be glad to see him. He hadn't exactly been nice to her to begin with and his attitude hadn't changed in the slightest, but it was as if her manners wouldn't allow her to be rude. He could tell the smile was forced, but still, it was there.
Sam also found it highly irritating and inconvenient that since meeting her he seemed to be hyperaware of Luke Callaghan. Before, he dealt with his dislike of the man by completely ignoring him unless absolutely necessary. However, since Oliver had pointed out that McNally and the detective were dating, Sam often found himself watching him through the glass windows of the detectives' office, observing his interactions with Jo Rosati carefully. What he was looking for he wasn't sure, but he knew that something wasn't right between the two detectives.
He didn't understand how a person could continue to work side by side with someone they used to see naked on a regular basis. It wasn't as if they were just colleagues who happened to work in the same division. They were partners.
That day, as he sat at a desk filling out paperwork, he noticed that Callaghan and Rosati were deep in conversation about something. Their heads were tucked in together and they spoke in low, hushed tones. There wasn't anything unusually suspect about how they were talking, but the way that Callaghan rested his hand comfortably on the small of Rosati's back, almost pulling her to him, made Sam's hair stand on end.
"Hey, Epstein," he called, getting his rookie's attention. "You're friends with that McNally girl aren't you?"
Dov looked up at him, surprised. His training officer rarely spoke to him about anything other than the job they were on, paperwork that needed to get done or how much coffee he was going to need to get through the day. "Yes, sir," he replied. "We went through the academy together."
Sam hesitated, an internal debate waging within. It wasn't as if he necessarily cared about Tommy McNally's daughter, certainly not like Oliver did, but he couldn't keep himself from asking, "Isn't she dating Callaghan?"
"Homicide Luke, yep, she is," Dov confirmed. When Sam raised an eyebrow he explained, "You know… because Callaghan is a homicide detective, we call him Homicide Luke."
"Yeah, I figured that one out," Sam replied sharply, tapping his head with his finger.
Dov clamped his mouth shut, chastised. He eyed his training officer curiously, wondering why the man was questioning him about Andy. Knowing he had to play it cool, Dov turned back to his computer. "Any reason you're asking about her?" he asked, trying to sound casual as he kept his eyes trained in front of him.
Sam's eyes flickered over Dov's shoulder to Callaghan before he fixed the rookie with a look. "Nope." He went back to his work, unsuccessfully hinting that the conversation was over.
Dov caught Sam's gaze and he spun in his seat to look at the pair. Exhaling dramatically, he turned back around. "It's weird," he said, leaning over the desk and whispering conspiratorially.
"What is?" Sam asked with a weary sigh, not bothering to look up from the report he was working on.
Dov waited patiently until Sam finally glanced up at him and then motioned with his pencil behind his shoulder. "The dynamic duo. We've all tried to tell her but she insists there's nothing going on between them." He shrugged helplessly, "What can you do?"
Sam took the information in with a nod, keeping his expression neutral. He wanted to ask more questions, find out more information about the couple, but he reminded himself that he didn't care about his neighbor or her boyfriend.
Even if he did find the whole thing weird and strangely aggravating.
With a final glance at Callaghan and a hard look to Epstein, Sam considered the matter dropped.
Later that day, Andy looked in the small mirror attached to her locker door and added the finishing touches to her makeup. She took a step back and gave herself a once over, deciding she looked good enough for the date that Luke had planned for them that evening.
She was surprised that he had asked her to go out that night, knowing that he had to work the next day. Andy wasn't going to complain though, they didn't get much time to spend together and she took every opportunity to see him that she could.
She sat down on the bench to slip her heels on and then stood shakily, taking a moment to get used to the extra height. She tugged the hem of her dress down her thighs, hoping it wasn't too short, then grabbed her workbag and exited the locker room.
Luke was supposed to pick her up at the station but as she glanced throughout the bullpen she didn't see him. It was a beautiful day, so she decided to wait outside for him.
She almost made it to the door when a voice called out to her. "McNally."
She stopped and squeezed her eyes closed, cursing in her head. Turning around, she faced her training officer. "Yes, sir?"
His eyes raked over her and she self-consciously crossed her arms in front of her chest. "Going somewhere?"
"Yes sir. My shift's over," she said, gesturing towards the large clock that hung in the middle of the bullpen.
"Is your paperwork finished?" he asked gruffly.
Andy nodded, "I'm all caught up. I finished yours too."
He sneered at her and she couldn't help but think he was trying to come up with a reason to keep her late, just to ruin her evening. "Did you and Detective Simmons discuss your statement for the Nelson case?"
He was referring to a burglary ring they had been working on with the detective's office. Andy had been the arresting officer for one of the defendants and as such, she was going to have to testify in court. Again, she nodded. "Yes sir. The prosecutor and I are meeting on Friday to go over it as well."
"Good," he said, "We don't need to screw this thing up because you happened to get to him first."
Andy ground her teeth together. She knew she should be used to the insults by now, he was so free with them when it came to her incompetence as a police officer, but she couldn't help feeling offended. It was her first time to testify and she was already nervous enough as it was, she didn't need him riding her about it.
"I know sir," she replied. "I won't mess it up."
He raised an eyebrow. "Well, you'll have to forgive me for not being so confident of that fact."
Andy just forced a tight smile. She wanted to point out that as her training officer he was just as responsible for her performance on the stand as she was, but she refrained. About that time she felt a hand come around her waist. She turned to find Luke smiling down at her, obviously having missed the exchange that just occurred. "Hey," he said, leaning down to kiss her temple. "You look nice."
"Thank you," she replied uncomfortably, eyeing her training officer. He just smirked at her.
Luke stuck his hand out. "Boyd," he said, greeting the officer, "It's good to see you."
Donovan Boyd shook the detective's hand. "Callaghan," he responded warmly, a stark contrast to the way he usually spoke to Andy.
Luke threw his arm around Andy's shoulder. "I hear you're showing Andy the ropes."
"Trying too," Boyd said lightly. "It's not always easy. She's a stubborn little thing." He was pretending to tease her but Andy knew that he wasn't joking.
Luke just laughed heartily, oblivious to the underlying tension. "That she is," he agreed. "You mind if I go ahead and take her? We've got reservations to get to."
Boyd's jovial smile made Andy want to roll her eyes. "Not at all. McNally, I'll see you on Friday. Callaghan," he said, addressing the detective, "Always a pleasure."
Luke nodded and then took Andy's bag from her, leading her outside with a hand on her back. "He's a good guy," he said when they were out of earshot.
Knowing Luke couldn't see her expression, Andy really did roll her eyes before agreeing, "Yep, he is." He held the passenger's door open for her and she slipped into his car. "Where are we going?" she asked when he got in on the driver's side.
"Nota Bene," Luke replied. "It's new, just opened up over on Queen Street."
Andy recognized the restaurant's name from a review she had read online. "Oh," she purred, sounding impressed. She wiggled her eyebrows, "How fancy."
Luke grinned over at her and took her hand across the console. "Of course, nothing but the best."
Andy smiled at him and then settled back in her seat, watching as the buildings of Toronto flew past her window.
It was later that night when Sam climbed the stairs to Lindsey's room. She had disappeared after dinner, claiming she had a "butt ton" of homework to do, whatever that meant, and he wanted to check on her before he went to bed. At first he thought she might have already gone to sleep, but there was a thin line of light peeking out from under her door, so Sam rapped lightly on it. "Lindsey?" He called, putting his ear close to the door to hear her reply.
"Yeah?"
He cleared his throat and then asked, "Can I come in?"
Her voice was shaky when she answered. "Yes."
He opened her door and peeked inside, finding sitting up in her bed, propped up against her pillows. She quickly wiped her fingers over her cheeks and then turned to look at him. His brow furrowed when he saw that her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying.
He chose not to make a comment about it, knowing that it would embarrass her. Instead, he nodded to the book in her hands. "What are you looking at?"
She held up a photo album. "One of mom's scrapbooks."
Sam smiled warmly. His sister had been a notoriously intrusive and persistent photographer. Years and years of her life, especially after Lindsey had been born, were meticulously catalogued within those books. At the time, when he was barking at her to get the camera out of his face, he never realized just how grateful he would one day be for that particular trait. "Can I see?"
Lindsey nodded and slid over in her bed, making a small space for him. He sat down on top of the covers and threw his arm back across the headboard. She surprised him when, instead of shying away, she scooted in and leaned back against his arm. "It's from when I was born," she told him, opening the book across her lap.
"Oh yeah?" Sam said, looking at the pictures. "I remember like it was yesterday."
Lindsey looked up at him, her eyebrows raised with surprise. "You do?"
He nodded. "I was working when your grandma called to tell me that your mom was in labor, so I turned the siren on and sped down to the hospital." He shrugged. "Turns out labor lasts for like twelve hours and I ended up sitting in the waiting room the whole time." He flipped to a page that had a picture of him holding his niece, still in his uniform. He pointed at it and told her, "That's the first time I got to hold you. You were so tiny, I was afraid I was going to drop you. Your mother was yelling at me to be careful the whole time," he said, chuckling at the memory.
"She yelled at you a lot," Lindsey said, smiling.
"I'm sure I deserved it," He replied honestly.
She titled her head to the side, deep in thought. "Did I look like her?"
"You do now," he told her, taking one of her dark curls between his fingers and tugging on it. "But no, not when you where born," Sam grinned, shaking his head. "I remember thinking that you looked like an alien."
Lindsey scoffed and slapped his chest. "I did not," she claimed.
"You did too," Sam argued. "Your face was all squished up and red and you had these big ole eyes." He widened his eyes comically and looked down at her, making her laugh. Sam wrapped his arm around her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "But you were the most beautiful little alien I'd ever seen. Still are."
"Yeah, well, look at your hair," Lindsey said, pointing to the picture. His dark hair was longer and he wore it slicked back. "You look like a wet seal. How much hair product did that take?" She asked, teasing him back.
"Hey now," he said defensively, "My hair was very cool back then."
"Uncle Sam," Lindsey sassed good-naturedly, fixing him with a disbelieving look. "That look has never been cool." She laughed and he couldn't help but laugh along with her.
He ran his hand over his hair. "Well is it better now?" he asked, turning from side to side so she could look him over.
She tapped her finger against her chin, intently pondering the question. When he raised an eyebrow impatiently she giggled and answered, "Yes, it's much better now."
"Good," he replied, sighing with exaggerated relief. He flipped the scrapbook page over and they were met with a picture of Sarah sitting up in her hospital bed, holding Lindsey up for the camera. Her big, bright smile radiated off the page and Sam found himself sucking in a breath.
Lindsey was quiet, staring at the picture. She traced her mother's smile with her finger. "She looks so happy," she commented after a moment.
Her voice was fragile and Sam's heart ached for his niece. "She was happy Lindsey," he told her. "You made her very happy." When Lindsey didn't say anything he continued cautiously, "You have to know that she loved you very much."
Lindsey snorted and he could see angry tears spring her to eyes. She wiped her eyes furiously. "If she loved me so much then why would she do what she did? Why would she leave me?"
Anger flared in his chest as he gathered his niece in his arms and pulled her to him. "I don't know Lindsey," he murmured against her hair. "I don't know."
He held her against him, letting her cry. Her shoulders shook as her body was wracked with sobs, and Sam found himself tearing up as well.
In the couple of months that Lindsey had lived with him, they had never directly discussed her mother's death. Lindsey had moved around like a zombie for the first few weeks and when she finally seemed like she was settling in, he had been hesitant to bring the hurt back up, knowing it would just cause her more pain. If he was honest with himself, he didn't really know how to even broach the subject.
It was hard for his adult mind to comprehend what Sarah had done so he couldn't imagine how difficult it was for Lindsey, her daughter, to understand. He knew that they probably never would.
He held her until she quieted down. Her thin arms circled his waist and he rubbed his hand up and down her back, comforting her as best he knew how.
Eventually her crying must have exhausted her, because he felt her go limp against his chest. He stroked her hair for a few minutes, making sure she had really fallen asleep, before untangling himself from her and climbing off the bed. He pulled the covers up over her and switched off the bedside lamp, bathing the room in darkness. Silently, he padded out of her room and closed the door behind him, wincing at the "click" it made and hoping it would wake her up.
"Damn it, Sarah," he whispered, leaning back against her closed door and rubbing his hand over his face. "Damn it."
Andy woke up the next morning to the sound of the shower running. She opened her eyes, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. It took her a moment to remember that she had slept over at Luke's the previous night. Fumbling for her cell phone, she squinted at the small numbers and realized it was barely six o'clock.
Unlike Andy, Luke had to go into work that morning. He had reminded her of that fact before they had gone to sleep and she had assured him she would leave early so he could lock his house up before he left.
She wanted to suggest that he could just leave her a key and she could lock up herself, but she didn't want to be the one to bring it up.
With a heavy, sleepy sigh she sat up, pulling the sheets up to cover herself, and looked around for her clothes. Spying her discarded dress, she hurried across the room and quickly slipped it on, along with her underwear.
She knocked lightly in the bathroom door before pushing it open. "Luke?"
He opened the glass shower door and stuck out his head to look at her. "Good morning," he said with a grin.
She smiled back, stepping into the steamy room. "Good morning," she replied, pressing a kiss against his wet lips. "I'm just going to head out."
He kissed her again on the lips and then once on the forehead. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll see you tonight?"
"Yeah, just call me when you get off work," Andy said, kissing him once more. She wished that he would invite her to join him, but she knew he wouldn't. Instead she told him, "I had fun last night."
"Me too." He grinned but tilted his head back towards the shower, "I've got to hurry."
"Right," she nodded. With a final smile she headed towards the door. "Bye."
"Bye."
Andy slipped out of the bathroom and found her shoes and purse. She quickly fussed with her hair in front of the hallway mirror and then wiped at the mascara that was smeared beneath her eyes. When she felt like she looked halfway presentable, she stepped outside to hail a cab home.
She was able to get one fairly easily and told the driver her address, sinking into the backseat. Mornings' after were always awkward at Luke's and she supposed she was mostly to blame. At first she had been hesitant to even stay the night, always slipping out after he had fallen asleep, and then she had never bothered to bring anything to get ready with so she really didn't have any choice but to leave.
It bothered her that no matter how comfortable they were the night before, she always felt like she was an intrusion to his routine the next morning.
Thanks to the light, early-morning traffic, it wasn't long before they arrived at her town house. Andy groaned when she saw her neighbor from the cab. He was standing on the sidewalk in front of his townhouse and when the cab pulled to a stop he dipped his head to look inside. She rolled her eyes at the way his face lit up when he noticed she was the passenger.
Despite the fact that she had gone out of her way to be nice to him, he seemed to have an endless supply of sarcastic one-liners to use against her and she hated to give him anymore material.
Andy shoved some money into the driver's hand and then exited as gracefully as she could, balancing precariously on her too-high heels and feeling very exposed in the short, strapless dress she was wearing, all the while trying to ignore his inquisitive eyes.
Sam grinned as he watched her get out of the cab. "Wow," he exclaimed indulgently, folding his arms over his chest as he watched her walk past him. "Making the walk of shame on a Wednesday morning. That's classy, McNally."
She sighed as she fumbled in her purse for her keys. She hadn't gotten much sleep the night before and her patience with him was running low. "Not that it's any of your business, Sam," she replied coolly, standing at the foot of the stairs that led up to her house, "But today is my Saturday."
"Oh, well then," Sam held up his hand in mock surrender. "My apologies. What? Did, uh, Callaghan have to go to work or something? Kick you out of bed?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Why do you care?"
"I don't," he replied simply.
"Why are you even out here?"
Sam motioned to the trashcan in front of him. "It's garbage day," he said as way of explanation.
"Oh, that's right." Andy sighed heavily, having forgotten. She pinched the bridge of her nose, aggravated that her plan of kicking off her heels and falling into her bed as quickly as possible had been derailed. Taking a deep breath, she turned and headed into the alley to get her trashcan.
"I already brought yours out," Sam called, stopping her. She spun around to look at him and he pointed to the second trashcan on the curb.
"Oh," she muttered, caught off guard by the very random and uncharacteristic act of kindness from her neighbor.
"They were right next to each other," he told her casually, not wanting to make a big deal of it. "It was just one trip."
"Well, thank you," she said. She was too tired to consider what the very confusing gesture meant. "That was… nice of you, I guess."
Sam just shrugged and then turned to walk up his front steps.
Andy shook her head and walked up her own steps, pausing to unlock her door. Just as she was about to open it she heard him call out to her.
"Hey McNally?" he said, looking over at her from his porch.
"What?"
His jaw tightened and he sucked his cheeks in as if he were rethinking what he had been about to say. She watched as his tongue darted out over his top teeth before he finally continued, "Your boyfriend," he spat the word out disdainfully, "Is a dick."
The irritation she felt earlier surfaced again and she could feel her face redden, flushing with heat. "That's funny," she replied humorlessly. "He says the same thing about you."
Sam smirked sarcastically. "Aw, you talk about me? That's so sweet."
Andy returned his smirk with a glare of contempt. She pushed her door open and went inside, not even bothering to say goodbye.