Author's Note: Thank you all so much for the reviews on the last chapter! Hope you enjoy this one!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

Andy was jolted awake by the sound of her phone ringing. She reached for it, her hand fumbling over a pair of glasses and a half empty mug of tea that sat on her bedside table, and finally pressed it to her ear. "Hello?" Still half asleep, the greeting came out scratchy and hoarse.

"Andy?" Sam's voice was clear on the other end of the line. "Did I wake you up?"

Squinting to read her watch, she noted with a groan that it was several hours passed when she normally woke up, even on her days off. She squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed forcefully, wetting her dry throat. "No," she claimed, her voice cracking again, "No I'm up."

"You are a terrible liar."

"Yeah," she said around a yawn. "Yeah, you've mentioned that before."

"What are you… trying to make up for lost time or something?"

Andy's eyes narrowed on their own accord. He knew very well that that was exactly what she was doing and she imagined that if she were to be standing in front of him his cheeks would be dimpling with that smug grin of his.

Her shifts had been long and she'd started the week more than a little sleep deprived, what with the night she'd spent on the floor, the late return from Sudbury and Sam's very loose interpretation of what "I'm not going to do anything" meant.

He meant the exact opposite, apparently, which she realized when he worked the zipper on her jeans down and then thumbed the tiny bow at the top center of her underwear. "McNally," he murmured into her ear, tucking her head down into his shoulder, "You have to be quiet."

"Shut up," Andy used her free hand to push herself up in bed and then drew her legs up to her chest. "I'm awake," she insisted, propping her chin up on her knee. She pressed the heel of her palm against her forehead, trying to massage away the fog that had settled in her brain. "What's up?"

"Look, I know today's your day off and I'm sorry to ask you…"

"Sam," she said, interrupting him. "What did you need?"

"Lindsey's school called," Sam told her. "She's running a fever."

"And you need me to pick her up," Andy concluded, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, groaning as her muscles protested and her joints cracked.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "I would go but I can't get away right now…"

"It's fine," she said, already making her way into the bathroom, hissing when her feet came in contact with the cold linoleum. "I don't mind."

"You don't have to stay with her once you get her home, I know you probably have stuff to do."

Andy rolled her eyes. No matter how many times she had happily agreed to watch Lindsey, he still acted like he thought it might be a huge inconvenience. "Yeah," she muttered sarcastically, "She's really gonna interrupt my plan to free up some space on my DVR."

"You don't have a DVR."

"You know what? You're right." Andy made a face when she looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was still a damp mess from her shower the night before and there were dark, puffy circles under her eyes; dead giveaways for the lack of sleep she had gotten the last couple of days. "I guess I'm completely free then."

He mumbled, "Smartass," under his breath and she just grinned. "Dumbass," she replied, laughing gently. "When are you going to stop acting like you and Lindsey are such a burden?"

She heard him suck in a sharp breath. "I, uh…" He paused for half a beat and then continued, ignoring her question, "I had to make you one of Lindsey's emergency contacts so that they'd let you get her."

"Oh," she replied, starting to pick through the tangled nest on top of her head, "That's fine."

"Yeah, so." There was another pause. "Make sure you take your I.D. and if they ask, you're my girlfriend."

Andy's fingers stilled in her hair. "Girlfriend, huh?" She repeated lightly, a smile slowing spreading across her face. "Is that what I am?"

"According to Don Mills Middle School, that's what you are."

Andy bit the inside of her cheek. "And according to you?"

"Andy," he sounded conflicted, like he was trying to figure out how to answer the question to her satisfaction without getting into that particular conversation over the phone and while he was at work, "This really isn't the time…"

She knew he was probably pinching the bridge of his nose and that the wrinkles around his eyes were deepening. For some reason, she decided to let him off the hook. "What happened to partner?"

Sam chuckled a little on the other end. "It wasn't one of the options."

"Well I guess girlfriend works too," she said casually, wedging the phone between her shoulder and her ear so she could pull her hair up into a twisted knot and secure it with a clamp. "Does Lindsey have a house key?"

"I was thinking you could just swing by the station," Sam suggested. "It's on the way and you can pick up the truck and the keys to the house."

"I can do that," Andy said, reaching into the shower to pull out her face wash. "I'll be there in like, twenty minutes."

"Just call me when you get here," Sam replied. "I'll come out and meet you."

"Sounds good," Andy agreed. "See you then."

Sam pushed the button to end the call and then slipped the phone back into his pocket. He turned to find Oliver standing behind him, leaning nonchalantly against the wall wearing an expression that was a mix somewhere between amusement and offense. He took a large bite of the sub he was holding, licking a drop of mayonnaise off of his finger, and then held the sandwich out to make a point, "I thought I was Lindsey's emergency contact."

"You still are," Sam assured him, rolling his eyes. He started down the hallway, unsurprised when Oliver fell in step beside him. He eyed the sandwich. "It's not even ten o'clock."

Oliver raised an eyebrow warily and sucked a piece of lettuce from his teeth. "And?"

"Were you eavesdropping on the entire phone call?"

"Sure was girlfriend," Oliver responded, putting a twang on the last word so it came out more like gurl-fran. "You have some explaining to do."

"What's it gonna take for me to get out of this conversation?"

Oliver shrugged. "Just tell me what's going on with you and McNally."

Sam stopped in front of interview one and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why don't you ask Lindsey?"

"She told you about that, huh?" Oliver had the decency to appear somewhat sheepish, rubbing the back of his head with his free hand.

"Yeah, she did. Listen," Sam said, ducking his head and lowering his voice, "Andy's looking to transfer to fifteen. I don't want anything to screw that up so… not a word, okay?"

Oliver snorted. "How can I say a word when I don't know anything?" he asked, hunching forward and whispering conspiratorially.

Sam thought about it for a moment and then smirked. "Good point," he said, clapping his friend on the shoulder. He glanced down at the file in his hand and then pushed the door to the interview room open, "Andre Malone, fancy seeing you here again…" his mockingly cheerful greeting was cut off when the door swung close.

"Ass," Oliver muttered to himself, taking another bite of his sub. "He's an ass."

Sam had asked her to meet him as his truck, so when the taxi dropped her off Andy started making her way to the back parking lot but then stopped in her tracks when she saw Luke getting out of his car.

Save for an uncomfortable encounter in the women's restroom at Penny, she hadn't seen him since the breakup. She wasn't even certain that he had noticed her then, what with how preoccupied he'd been with lifting Jo against the wall and hiking her legs up around his waist.

Jo had seen her though. Andy had been rooted to her spot despite how furiously her brain had tried to tell her legs to move, and when Jo's head had rolled to the side they'd made some of the most intense and awkward eye contact Andy had ever experienced. Jo just smirked and traced her tongue along the shell of Luke's ear, watching Andy with a triumphant glint in her eye the entire time.

Luke made a noise she'd never heard from him before, but then again she'd never climbed him in a public bathroom either, so it was possible it was just a context thing. He didn't really seem like the sex-in-a-public-place type, at least not when they were together, but before Andy had too long to dwell on it she heard Traci approaching behind her, the sound knocking her out of her daze. She swiftly pulled the door closed and then assured Traci that she did not want to go in there.

Unbidden, flashes of that night came to mind again as she watched Luke make his way towards the entrance of the station, briefcase in hand and cellphone at his ear. Before she could duck behind one of the concrete columns that separated the parking lot from the sidewalk, Luke caught sight of her.

She watched his stride falter slightly when he recognized her, a pause and a half step that threw off his normally confident swagger, but then he straightened his spine and seemed to ready himself for the inevitable conversation. He said something into the cell phone before pulling it away from his ear and punching a button to end the call. "Andy," he called out, four long steps away from her, forcing a genial tone.

She approached him apprehensively, chewing on the inside of her bottom lip.

When he reached her he stopped walking and asked, "What are you doing here?"

Andy briefly wished she'd spent half a minute to swipe some concealer on under her eyes, make him see what he was missing and all that. "Um…" she paused, bringing her hand up over her eyes like a visor to block the morning sun. She decided to stick with the honest answer. "Well, Lindsey's sick so Sam's letting me take the truck to go pick her up from school."

"Lindsey, right," he mused slowly. "So, you and Swarek, huh?" He chuckled a little, low and dry. She wasn't quite sure what it meant, but she had never been very good at reading him. "Guess I called that one."

Andy didn't bother to deny it but instead set her jaw, steeling herself. "You and Rosati, huh?" she replied, mimicking his humorless tone. "Guess… well, everyone called that one."

She shook her head and started to walk past him but he let out a heavy sigh and grabbed hold of her arm, stopping her. "Andy, wait."

Andy turned to him and squinted, waiting for him to continue.

"I… uh," he paused and scratched at his forehead. "No matter what anyone says, it didn't start again until after we were done, me and Jo."

Her gut told her that he was telling the truth and if she was completely honest with herself, aside from the embarrassment that came from everyone being able to say "told you so", she really didn't harbor strong feelings towards Luke one way or the other. She hadn't given him, or the status of his relationship with Jo Rosati, more than a cursory thought in the last couple of weeks.

Andy nodded and gave him a half smile, a sort of peace offering. "I believe you." She wasn't sure why she felt the need to offer similar reassurance, but she heard herself saying, "Sam and I didn't…"

Luke raised a hand to stop her. "Yeah, I know."

They stared at each other for a couple of awkward moments; neither having anything else to say but not knowing how to exit gracefully.

As Andy rolled back and forth on her feet, something occurred to her that she hadn't yet considered; if she moved to fifteen not only would she be working with Sam, she'd be working with Luke.

The fact that that little detail had failed to make it on to her fairly extensive mental pro/con list was further evidence of just how far off her radar Luke Callaghan really was.

"Hey, um, Luke?" She hesitated and he looked down at her, his eyebrows raised expectantly. "I've been thinking about putting in for a transfer to fifteen," she told him, craning her neck to meet his gaze. "I'm not, like, asking your permission to do it or anything, I just… wanted to give you a heads up."

Luke smirked. "Just can't take it anymore, huh?"

The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she felt herself prickle at the insinuation that she was running away from something. She shook her head, "That's not…"

"Andy," he said, his expression softening a little, his features opening up. "I'm just kidding."

"Oh, okay," she replied, smiling uncomfortably. "Well, now you know."

"Now I know," he agreed, nodding sharply. "And I think it'll be fine. You and me," he gestured between them and then clarified, "Working together. I think we'll will be fine."

Andy's smile relaxed and became more natural, more genuine. "Good," she said. "That's good."

"I'll just have to prepare Jo now," Luke told her, laughing lightly.

"Yeah," Andy said, tilting her head and scrunching her face, "I don't really think she's my biggest fan."

Luke shrugged. "Hey, if Swarek and I can work together without killing each other, you guys'll be fine. Speaking of…" his attention was drawn over Andy's shoulder and when she turned to follow his gaze, she saw Sam coming out of the sally port, walking towards them. He looked back at her and smiled. "I'll see you later, Andy."

"Bye, Luke." She watched him walk away and tip his head to Sam when they passed. As she stood on the dark pavement, waiting for Sam to reach her, she was struck by the image; saying goodbye to one man and hello to another.

As Sam drew closer, strikingly handsome in his police blues, her smile grew wider. "Hi," she said when he came up beside her.

Sam smiled back but instead of reaching out to take her hand or settle his arm around her shoulders or touch her in anyway at all, he held out a set of keys. "Here you go."

Her face fell a little as she took the keys from him. It was just odd that he didn't touch her. Normally, even when Lindsey was around, he always found some reason to get his hands on her.

"Thanks," she said, jingling them at her side.

"Do you know where the school is?" His tone was nice enough but he was keeping his distance, somewhat standoffish.

Andy furrowed her brow, immediately fearing that he had seen her talking to Luke and had gotten the wrong idea. Irritation crawled up her spine. "Yeah," she answered flatly, "We drive by it all the time on patrol."

"Okay, good," he said. "I'm going to get away as soon as I can, but it might take a while. I've uh, got a suspect in interview right now." He didn't sound upset, just… reserved.

"Well, go ahead and get back to it then," Andy told him, turning to walk towards the truck, unsure of why she was so put off by his demeanor.

He surprised her when he followed, hands shoved firmly into his pockets, and then held the driver's side door open for her while she climbed inside.

"Thanks for doing this McNally," he said, watching as she adjusted the seat and then the rearview mirror.

McNally, really? Blank and emotionless, like he was saying Epstein or Diaz or pass the potatoes.

Andy smiled back at him, bright and obviously fake, and then reached out for the door handle. "No problem, Swarek." He jumped back to let her slam the door closed and as she drove away she could see the deep lines of confusion etched in his forehead.

It didn't take long to pick up Lindsey, run by the drugstore to grab some cold medication and Kleenex (the real stuff with lotion, not the "generic kind that's like rubbing your nose with sandpaper" that Lindsey claimed her uncle normally bought) and then get her settled in bed with a mug of hot peppermint tea and Youtube pulled up on the laptop propped between them.

"You think this kid's for real?" Lindsey asked, her red, watery eyes glued to the screen as she watched the teenager trash his room because his mother cancelled his World of Warcraft account.

Andy shrugged and then her eyes widened when the kid began taking his clothes off underneath a blanket. "Um, I don't know. I'm not really sure why he feels the need to strip down to his boxers though."

Lindsey let out a wheezing laugh that gave way to a coughing fit. She sat up in bed, folding herself over to rest her elbows on her knees, and tried to catch her breath. Andy stretched her arm out to settle it on the girl's back, rubbing gently as she calmed down.

"You okay?" Andy asked after a moment.

Lindsey nodded as she reached for a Kleenex and swiped it under her nose, groaning, "Ugh," she moaned, her words dulled and nasally, "I just hate not being able to breathe."

"Yeah, I know it sucks. I'm sorry," Andy murmured, waiting as Lindsey situated herself against her pillow again. "You want me to fix you some soup or something?"

Lindsey shook her head. "Maybe later," she said, clicking around on the keyboard. "Ever seen David after Dentist?"

That was how Sam found them a couple of hours later- Lindsey curled up beneath her comforter and Andy stretched out on top, the music score from some movie he didn't recognize mixing with the sound of gentle breathing and sharp, congested snores. Both had fallen asleep, Lindsey with a Kleenex clutched in her hand and Andy with fuzzy purple socks poking out from her (or were those his?) sweatpants, arm slung up behind her head.

They looked so cozy that Sam briefly considered sliding Andy to the middle and crawling in there with them, but then shook his head and decided that that would be weird. He stepped back out into the hallway and quietly closed the door.

He heard Andy plodding down the stairs not long afterwards, yawning and rubbing at her eyes as she entered the kitchen.

"Oh," she said, freezing when she saw him sitting at the table, "You're home."

Sam looked up and raised an eyebrow. "I am."

"I was just going to make Lindsey some soup," she explained, moving into the kitchen.

If possible, his eyebrow arched even higher. "Make her some soup, huh?"

Andy rolled her eyes and pulled a can of chicken noodle from the plastic bag that sat on his counter. "I have to heat it up," she said, crouching down to grab a saucepan from one of the bottom cabinets. "It counts."

Sam watched as Andy opened the drawer to get out the can opener – he hadn't realized she'd been paying so much attention to where stuff was – and then flicked the stove on before setting the pan on the eye.

She stirred the soup quietly, frowning and purposely not looking at him.

Pretty much the only time Andy was silent was when something was bothering her and even then it was still fifty fifty whether or not she was going to talk his ear off about whatever was on her mind or sulk around, waiting for him to bring it up.

"McNally," he said evenly, which earned him a scowl, "Is something wrong?"

"Nope," she replied, popping the "p".

"Is this about the girlfriend thing from earlier? Sam sighed. "Because fine, sure… you're my girlfriend."

"Oh wow," Andy shot back sarcastically, still refusing to look at him. "I really feel special now."

Sam was quiet and just studied her for a couple of moments before moving across the kitchen. "Andy," he came up behind her and put his hand over hers, stilling her anxious stirring. "You just have to stir occasionally, not the whole time."

Andy jerked away from his touch but then tapped the spoon on the side of the pan and laid it on the counter, not particularly caring that it was going to make a mess. She turned to face him, crossing her arms in front of her chest, ready to pick a fight. "What was that in the parking lot earlier?"

"Oh," he said, boxing her in with one arm on either side of her waist, "You mean when you called me Swarek and then almost slammed my hand in the door?"

"What? Your name is Swarek isn't it?"

"You never call me Swarek."

"Well," she stammered, "That's because it's a stupid, hard name to say, with the s and the w and the r together like that, my mouth doesn't naturally make that sound…" Sam just smirked at her the whole time and leaned in, his chest bumping against hers, which only served to irritate her even more. "Stop looking at me like that," she demanded, her hands coming up to his chest to keep him from moving in anymore.

"I have stupid name?" He asked, amusement dancing in his eyes, skin crinkling around the sides even though he wasn't grinning.

She pursed her lips and exhaled noisily. "Just your last name," she muttered, glancing around the kitchen. "Your first name's fine."

There was a stretch of silence, Andy's lips pressed together in a tight, annoyed line. "The soup's gonna burn."

Sam wordlessly reached over to flip the stove off and studied her again, noting the way a flush was creeping up her neck. "Are you mad at me about something?"

Her head whipped forward and she stared at him. "Are you mad at me about something?"

"No," he answered honestly, his lips at her temple.

Andy allowed her arms wrap around his neck, telling herself it was only because it was getting difficult to stand, what with how he was still leaning in and arching her back over the counter. She just needed to keep her balance, that was all.

"Then what was with the hands-off, buddy-buddy, here are the keys crap?" Andy asked.

Infuriatingly, Sam just chuckled and backed away enough for her to straighten and stand upright. "Is that what this is about?" he asked. "You're upset because I didn't hold your hand?"

And yeah, when he said it like that it sounded a little ridiculous. "What? No."

"Andy," he said patiently, smoothing his hand through her hair. "Did you happen to see who was out in the parking lot?"

Andy thought back, trying to remember. The only person that came to mind was a blonde detective. "Luke?"

Sam snorted, like he'd have absolutely no problem whatsoever holding her hand in front of Luke. "No, not Luke," he said, starting to lean in again, "Best."

His lips were at her ear, tugging gently, so when she repeated him her voice came out shaky. "Best?"

"Uh huh. Staff Sergeant of the fifteenth division," he muttered. "The division you're trying to transfer into."

Of course.

"Oh," she replied meekly after a minute, feeling foolish. It probably wouldn't help her case if the staff sergeant thought she was transferring so she could work Sam.

"Yeah."

"So you weren't upset I was talking to Luke?"

Sam laughed against her, deep and hearty, and then pressed his lips to hers. "No," he said between kisses, still grinning. "Not even a little bit."

"So then this was just a misunderstanding?"

"Seems like it," he agreed, nodding.

She widened her stance and let her arms circle low around his hips, pulling him to her. Fighting a smile, she looked up at him hopefully. "Disregard?"

Sam grinned down at her, his eyes twinkling. "Disregard." He kissed her again and then abruptly pulled away. "Except for the stupid name thing," he said, smiling to let her know he was kidding. "That kinda hurt."

Andy pushed up to her tiptoes so she was eye level with him. "You don't have a stupid a name," she said, grinning. "I like your name."

An expression that was a little too serious passed across his face but before she had time to think about it he had blinked and boosted her up onto the counter, his warm mouth on hers before she was even fully seated.

As she giggled and wrapped her legs around him, her socked feet pressing against the backs of his knees, she briefly considered the fact that maybe she and Sam shouldn't be allowed in the kitchen alone together.

His tongue parted her lips, gently, just probing a little as his hand came up to cup her face, his thumb brushing her cheek.

Or, you know, maybe they should.

She slipped her hands beneath the hem of his shirt and let her fingers roam up his stomach and over his chest, counting up his ribs. "S…Sam?"

"Hmmm?" he muttered distractedly, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across her jaw and down the side of her neck.

Andy tipped her head back, exposing a fresh stretch of skin to his wandering lips. "Lindsey's upstairs," she told him, sounding breathless even to her own ears.

"I know," he said, his lips at her pulse, "I'm just..."

"Asleep."

He didn't stop, didn't catch on to what she was getting at, so she continued.

"Like, really…" His hands were under her shirt, palms warm against her rib cage and thumbs caressing the bottom of her breasts, sliding under the underwire of her bra. She closed her eyes, stifling a moan, and tried to focus, "Really asleep. Cold medicine, out-like-a-light asleep."

Sam stilled and pulled back, waiting for her to meet his gaze. When she did she sucked in a breath at the look in his eyes, dark and swirling and… hungry. "I thought you were making her soup?"

Andy blushed all the way to her hairline. "It's possible I was trying to impress you with how domestic I can be." That, and she needed something to do with her hands and figured that she could probably handle soup.

"Well," Sam said slowly, watching her. "Consider me impressed." He blinked and then leaned in to kiss her again, tentatively, hesitantly. After a moment she tried to jump off the counter but he held her there, hands firmly planted on her hips. "Andy…"

"What?" She asked, pushing on his shoulders until he looked at her. "You wanna wait for her to have another sleepover?"

"Don't think I haven't considered asking Oliver," he said, letting out a strangled laugh.

"Are you afraid she's gonna hear or something? Be scarred for life?"

"Yes, actually," he admitted, smiling ruefully. "That's exactly what I'm afraid of."

Andy brought her hands to his face, cupping his jaw. "She's not going to hear. Your rooms are on different floors and you only share the one wall."

Sam smirked at her. "You sound like you've given this some thought."

Andy shrugged innocently and then smiled. "Maybe," she said, absently scratching the back of his neck with her short fingernails.

Sam sighed and dropped his head down on to her shoulder, debating with himself. "I'm just… I'm sorry this is even an issue."

"Sam," Andy said, lifting his head off her shoulder and making him look at her, "I swear to god, if you don't stop apologizing for having custody of Lindsey and being a good, responsible person, I'm literally going to scream." She grinned, sticking her tongue between her teeth. "And not in a good way."

Sam shifted his weight from one foot to the other and she could practically see his mind working, conflicting desires flickering through his eyes and across his face.

Finally, he chuckled and tugged on her hair, recalling her sarcastic comment from earlier. "You are, you know?"

"I am what?" she asked, tipping her head to the side.

He looked at her, taking in her wide, trusting brown eyes. "Special," he said after a moment, so softly she could barely hear him.

Andy laughed gently and then hooked a finger through his belt loop to pull him closer. "Like short bus special?" she asked, making him crack a small grin.

Sam tilted her head back and then leaned forward so that his lips hovered just above hers. "No. Like special, special," he said, his breath warm against her.

She beamed, happy and pleased, and then closed the distance between their mouths, kissing him slowly, just barely brushing her lips against his. When she felt Sam's hands move and tighten around her waist and his tongue dart out insistently, she broke away and teased again, "Like partner special or like girlfriend special?"

"McNally…" he groaned.

"I'm kidding. Look," she said, her hands on his waist and her fingers worrying the seam of his shirt, "Is it ideal? No. But it's you and me and its an opportunity and I don't know about you, but I'm getting a little…" she hesitated, biting her bottom lip, "Tired of waiting for everything to be perfect."

"Tired, huh?" Sam repeated, sounding amused.

"Very, very tired," she said pointedly. "Unless…" her brow furrowed when she considered another option, "I mean, unless you don't want to?"

He swallowed hard and his eyes darkened when he looked back up at her. "Andy, no, that's not… of course I want to…" he trailed off, flicking the hair at her shoulder. He took a deep breath and then met her timid gaze. "You sure she's asleep?"

Andy broke out into a wide grin and she twisted herself around his solid body, ankles interlocking behind his back. "Positive," she replied, nudging his nose before pressing her lips to his. "She's snoring like a freight train."

It took her a moment to pull a response out of him and she may have had to roll her hips against his in a way that she wasn't completely proud of. The groan that it earned her, however, made pure satisfaction swell in her chest.

So she did it again.

When he finally did respond, he was all in; one hand getting rid of the clamp that held her hair up and then fisting in the loose strands and the other hooking under both of her knees to lift her against his chest.

It was different than when he'd carried her before, more purposeful, maybe more gentlemanly, and not that she minded the other way but Andy felt something tug in her chest at the gesture.

He laid her out along his bed, her head at the pillows, and before Andy could reach for him and pull him down on top of her, he slid down to her feet.

"These are ridiculous," he muttered, taking her foot into his hand and pulling the fuzzy sock off. Andy was about to respond with a sarcastic comment but then he pressed his lips to the arch of her foot and she just stared at him, mouth agape. He replaced his lips with his thumb, massaging gently, and then moved on to the other foot, giving it the same treatment.

Andy watched him, wide eyed, as he moved up to the waistband of her sweats. Raising an eyebrow, he dipped his fingers beneath the soft material. "These look familiar." When she gulped he grinned up at her and winked. "Weren't so mad at me that you couldn't riffle through my stuff, huh?"

"I uh…" she paused, squeezing her eyes shut when his hand slipped lower, "I didn't think you'd mind."

"I don't," he replied, tugging at the pants until she lifted her hips and let him slide them off of her, his calloused fingers running down the smooth length of her legs.

She opened her eyes again to find him gazing down at her and was suddenly very aware of the harsh, bright afternoon light that was streaming in through the windows.

One glance up at his face and those dark eyes assured her that he wasn't concerned about it at all.

Still.

"Sam," she said, motioning uselessly with her hands.

"Andy," he replied lightly, teasing his hand up the inside of her leg, stopping briefly to rub at the raised, jagged scar on her knee and look up at her, eyebrow raised.

"Torn ACL," she answered his unspoken question. "Eleventh grade, district championship basketball game. "

He hummed and lowered himself down to the bed so he could his mouth on her. "Did you win?"

Andy grinned and let her head fall back as his teeth skimmed along her skin, nipping lightly at the flesh of her thighs. "Yes," she said, tangling her fingers through his hair.

She felt him smile against her. "Good."

Andy let him continue for a couple of minutes, warm hands and soft lips exploring. His pace was slow and frustratingly unhurried, taking his time to build up the ache within her. As good as he was making her feel, she found herself reaching down and pulling at his shoulders until he was stretched out on top of her, letting his warm weight press her into the mattress. He supported himself on his elbow and bent his head down to kiss her, one of those kisses that sent heat straight to her belly and left her trembling, limbs like jelly, and a little lightheaded.

She bunched the hem of his shirt in her fingers and yanked it up, whining a little when it got stuck at his shoulders. With a groan he broke away from her lips, panting slightly, and then rose up to his knees, letting her pull the shirt over his head and fling it to the side.

Andy's hands eagerly skimmed over the expanse of his chest, feeling the way it expanded when he drew a breath in and then sharply contracted when he let it out, the air leaving in a rush. His muscles jumped at twitched under her touch as her fingers followed the trail of hair down to his waistband.

Sam pulled her to her knees as well, his hands running up and down her narrow back and then stripping her shirt over her head, lips fusing with hers again as soon as he had the garment off of her. Andy made quick work of his belt and the buttons of his jeans and then she roughly shoved them down, letting them pool around his knees before he quickly kicked them off.

His hands moved down to palm her bottom, pulling her legs up and around him in a full-bodied hug. Andy's fingers dug into his shoulders and he held her there, kissing her long and slow, his knuckles grazing over the groves of her backbone, until she whimpered and arched against him.

They fell back down to the bed together, warmed skin on warmed skin, fingers trailing over one another, memorizing curves and contours, eliciting sighs and moans and occasionally pleas and pants.

At one point Andy flipped them over and straddled his waist, holding his arms at his side. She rolled her hips against him and when he let out a strangled groan she grinned wickedly down at him. "Sam," she taunted breathlessly, "You have to be quiet."

Sam's eyes swirled with challenge and she soon found herself flat on her back again, gasping for air as his fingers tickled feather-light patterns against her rib cage. "What was that McNally?" he chided, lacing his fingers with hers above her head.

"Sam," she whined, hoarse and desperate, knees digging into his ribs. "Please... - "

Afterwards, as they laid tangled together and as the sweat cooled on their overheated bodies, Andy smiled and pressed a kiss against his chest. Under her fingers she could feel his rapid heartbeat begin to calm. "Do you think she heard us?" she murmured softly, propping up her chin to look at him.

Sam grinned and pulled her up to kiss her again. "Doesn't really matter," he said, stroking her hair back from her face.

Andy looked down at him disbelievingly. "Liar. You're dying to go and check to make sure she's still sleeping, aren't you?"

He choked out a laugh but then answered honestly, "Yes."

Sighing with mock exasperation, Andy rolled off of him and then waved her hand towards the door. "Go."

"Andy," Sam said, curling his arm around her waist, not getting up yet, "I don't want you to think… well, I wasn't exactly worried about it during."

"Yeah," she grinned broadly and waggled her eyebrows, "I could tell."

Sam narrowed his eyes and with a playful swat to her backside, got out of bed and pulled some clothes on before ducking out of the room. When he returned a few moments later Andy looked at him expectantly. "Well?"

He was already jerking his shirt over his head and climbing back into bed when he answered, "It sounds like a chainsaw up there."

They did it again after Lindsey went to sleep for the night, Sam's paranoia about her being able to hear them apparently gone.

Andy had wished the girl goodnight and then turned her attention back to the television, pretending to be absorbed in the news report about a local salmonella outbreak. She felt Sam's eyes on her but she ignored him, wanting to see what he was going to do. When he sighed and nudged her foot she twisted her mouth against a grin. "You should really check your peanut butter," she told him seriously. "Salmonella's a …" she broke off when Sam scooped her up off the couch and was still laughing a minute later when he dropped her on his bed and quickly divested both them of their clothing.

"I'm just saying," she said, giggling as he wrapped his arm around her waist and dragged her underneath him, "You have Smucker's in there and that's what…"

"McNally?"

"Yes?"

He grinned down at her, wiggling his hips into place, "Be quiet."

So she was.

Or, at least, she tried to be.

A few days later Sam was on patrol with Epstein when his phone rang. Fishing it out his pocket, he pressed the button to answer. "This is Swarek."

"Oh, very official," was Andy's teasing response. "If you're at the barn, cough once. If you're riding with Epstein, cough twice."

Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm with Epstein today."

"You are no fun," she said, her pout implied.

"Yeah, I know," he said, flicking his eyes over to his rookie. Epstein was pretending not to pay attention. "What's up?"

"Nothing," Andy sighed. "I just heard a missing elderly report over the radio, wanted to make sure you were okay."

Sam rolled his lips between his teeth and let out an unamused huff. "Nice."

Andy laughed. "I'm just kidding. Boyd and I have been sitting on house all day and he finally sent me to get some coffee. He's probably gonna gripe because it's from a gas station but, well… there aren't exactly many options around here. Anyway," she paused to take a breath, "I've been thinking."

"'Bout what?"

"Well," she said, drawing the word out, "If I hurried home from work and you hurried home from work we'd probably have a good… what? Fifteen minutes before Lindsey got home from school?"

Sam fought a grin. "Oh at least," he said, glancing down at his watch. "Maybe twenty."

"I think there's probably a lot we could do in twenty minutes."

He glanced over at Epstein, who at that point had given up the pretense of pretending not to be listening. "I feel certain we could think of some…"

Sam was cut off when Andy swore into the phone, "Shit."

Her low, quiet voice sent chills up his spine. "What is it?" Sam asked, alarmed.

"Shit…" she repeated, whispering harshly, "Sam..."

"McNally?"

All he heard was three quick pops, sharp and deafening, and then the clatter of her phone as it hit the floor.