Author's Note: First, thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this story! I cannot believe the last chapter hit 1000 reviews... it's pretty overwhelming and completely crazy, but I am so appreciative to those of you who take the time to leave feedback. I really cannot tell you how much it means.
Second, I apologize (again!) that this chapter took so long. It ended up being longer than I was expecting and there was not natural stopping point, so I just kept going. I hope that you will enjoy it!
Third, A big thanks to Cocobean 2206 for the idea of a group date!
Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.
Their first day working together didn't go so well.
Sam knew that he was mostly, if not entirely, to blame.
The problems began the day before. Sam had actually been in a good mood that morning – there were certain benefits, he'd discovered, to Andy getting a few days off between jobs and not having to hurry out of bed as soon as the alarm went off. The rookies of fifteen had been cut loose and, in a rare moment of goodwill that he would later come to regret, Sam handed the keys to the cruiser over and told Epstein that he could call the shots that day.
It was a rainy day and they ended up pulling over every single motorist that didn't have their lights on, chasing down cars going maybe three miles over the speed limit, responding to every call within a twenty block radius and, as icing to the already massive amounts of paperwork cake, being involved in a hit and run.
To be fair, it wasn't really Epstein's fault – the car came barreling out of some tiny side-street alley – but the bumper of the cruiser was knocked half off and the front passenger's side tire was blown which meant Sam found himself outside in the freezing rain trying to jack the car up while Oliver heckled him over the radio.
To say that he was grouchy, and not in a just-woke-up-get-me-some-coffee kind of way, when he finally left the barn would be an understatement. He was irritated with Epstein for no good reason, frustrated with himself for pretty much asking for the type of day he'd had and chilled down to his bones; the hot shower at the station he'd been looking forward to since an hour into his shift had turned cold halfway through. The string of profanities he let out as the cold water hit his back probably would have made a sailor blush.
Andy was helping Lindsey with her homework when he got home and there was crap spread out all over the kitchen table like a school supplies tornado had swept through. "I guess we'll just eat in the living room tonight," he muttered, folding his arms and taking in the scene.
"As opposed to every other night?" Andy asked, head ducked down as she used a ruler to draw on some graph paper. She hadn't meant it sarcastically, at least he didn't think so, and it was true, but some reason it still crawled all over him.
He set his jaw and waited for her to glance up at him before raising an eyebrow.
Her smile fell and an expression of disbelief crossed her face, like she couldn't believe he was actually upset about the table. "We can clean it up if it really matters that much to you."
"Whatever," he replied childishly. "Stay there, I don't care."
The worst part was he knew he was in a crappy mood but he didn't particularly want to do anything about it.
Andy cautiously made her way into the kitchen a little while later and tried to talk to him while he got dinner ready (even offered to do it herself, which was nice but – no, absolutely not, he once asked her to cook pasta and she ended up burning the entire pot of noodles) but after being met with nothing but grunts and sarcasm, she mumbled something under her breath about male PMS and disappeared into the living room.
If he wasn't going to be feeding her, he knew she probably wouldn't have stuck around.
Then Lindsey, in a spectacular case of bad timing, asked if she could maybe, possibly, perhaps go to the movies with a group of friends the next night.
She was usually so much better about knowing when to ask stuff like that – so much so that he sometimes wondered if there was some secret radio frequency that broadcasted when all of his defenses were down and he was most likely to say yes to whatever she wanted.
Sam let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes for a second before responding. "Who all's going?" he finally asked, stabbing at a piece of limp, over-steamed broccoli. Andy was staring at him, eyes pleading with him to be reasonable like she already knew there was a good chance he was going to completely overreact.
"Um…" Lindsey sounded nervous, which was his first clue that he wasn't going to like her answer. "Just some friends from school."
Sam looked over at her. She was shredding her napkin into tiny little pieces and hadn't even touched her food. He picked up the remote and muted the volume on the television down before asking, "What friends from school?"
"Hannah, obviously, and you don't know the rest of them," Lindsey told him. "But they're good kids, they never get into any trouble, I swear."
"Names, Lindsey," Sam demanded, setting his fork down. "I want names."
Lindsey took a deep breath and glanced over at Andy before starting, "Well, there's like, six girls going, counting me – Hannah, Margie, Annie, Natasha and Denise– they were all at Hannah's birthday party, and then there's like, three or four boys that might go, I don't know."
Sam's eyebrows shot up and his entire body tensed. His hands made fists on top of his wobbly TV tray. "Boys?" he asked sharply. "So this is a date?"
Lindsey shook her head urgently; her dark curls bouncing all over the place. "No Uncle Sam, it's not a date, it's just a big group thing. We were just talking about it at lunch today."
"What boys are going?"
"You're not going to know who they are," Lindsey said. "Unless you've like… been stalking me or something." She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "Have you been stalking me? Do you have someone following me? I knew it, I knew you probably… "
"Don't be ridiculous," he interrupted her, letting out an exasperated huff. "I don't have anyone following you, I just want to know who you're going with."
Lindsey set her mouth in a hard line and then told him, "Trevor, Ben, Justin and Mark, boys from my class. I can give you their last names too, if you want to make sure they haven't been to juvie."
Sam had been watching Andy and when Lindsey said Mark's name, Andy's eyes widened for a split second and a small smile stretched across her face. She quickly fought it, keeping her expression neutral when she turned to meet Sam's gaze.
It was enough of a tell for Sam to know. He cracked his neck from side to side and then asked, "Mark's the kid from the grocery store?" It wasn't really a question.
Lindsey shot a accusatory look over at Andy and Andy held her hands up in innocence. "I didn't tell, I swear."
"She didn't tell me," Sam vouched for Andy, to her visible relief. "But is that it? You like this kid…"
Lindsey's face flushed red, obviously embarrassed about openly discussing who she liked with her uncle. "Uncle Sam… no, that's not…" she stammered, looking everywhere but at him. "It's not a date, it's just a group thing."
"Well, the answer's no," Sam said. "You're too young to date."
"But it's not a date…" Lindsey screeched, teenage sass giving way to high pitched whining.
Sam blinked. "Are you planning on going?"
"Yes." She sounded like she had to refrain from adding a duh on the end.
"Is a boy that you like planning on going?"
"Yes," she answered.
Sam shrugged. "Sounds like a date to me."
Lindsey persisted, whining, "But he didn't ask me and it's not like we're going alone…"
"Lindsey, you asked, I said no. End of story." Sam said, wiping his hands with his napkin.
"But… Uncle Sam…" she sputtered, looking over to Andy for help.
Andy looked pained, caught in the middle. She wrinkled her nose and mouthed, "Sorry."
"Lindsey, I don't want to hear anymore about it. You're not going and that's final," he said, unmuting the TV.
As the sound filtered back into the room, Lindsey stared at Sam with her mouth gaping open slightly. "I knew it," she huffed after a minute, getting to her feet and stomping out of the room. "You never let me do anything."
Sam rolled his eyes and cut into his chicken. "Can you believe that?" he muttered after taking a bite.
The look on Andy's face wasn't quite as understanding as he was expecting it to be.
"What?" he asked densely, holding his hands out – fork and knife pointing in opposite directions.
Andy shook her head and let out a soft, mirthless chuckle, turning back to the television.
"What?" he asked again, louder. "Don't be quiet now."
Her head whipped around and she glared at him, eyes ablaze. "It's not like she was asking to go to a kegger, I think they wanted to go see that dancing penguin movie."
"So?"
Andy hesitated and Sam could tell that she was trying to carefully choose her words. "I just think you might have been a little hasty, that's all."
Sam snorted. "Well, you're not Lindsey's mother so it doesn't really matter what you think."
The very second the words left his mouth he knew it was absolutely the worst thing he could have said in that moment.
First of all, it wasn't even a little bit true, of course he valued her opinion and second, just the look on her face… her eyes widened and filled with hurt and all of her features just crumpled. Sam dropped his head, took a deep breath, and then looked back up at her. "McNally, that's not…"
"No, you know what?" she said, pressing her napkins to her lips before throwing it on her plate and standing up. "I'm done. I'm going home."
He tried to grab for her arm as she walked by him. "Andy… "
She jerked out of his grasp. "I'll see you in the morning."
Letting her go, he sighed heavily and leaned back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face. A few seconds later the front door opened and then slammed shut. He could feel the rattle in his backbone.
The next morning Sam waited for her out by his truck, holding a cup of coffee like a white flag of surrender. He was planning on shoving it into her hands and letting her take a couple of good long sips before admitting that he was an idiot and asking her to forgive him. He had thought of all sorts of embarrassing things to say if he needed to, but he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Five minutes before they needed to leave in order to get to the station so they could have time in the locker room before parade, Sam started to shuffle his feet, getting impatient.
Three minutes after that he checked his watch and tried to tell himself they still had plenty of time. He climbed into the truck and started the engine both because it was absolutely freezing outside and in order to save time; they could talk on the way to the station.
Six minutes later he told himself they'd be fine if they streamlined the whole locker room process – yanked on their uniforms, didn't make small talk with anyone – and hauled ass to parade.
Two minutes after that he figured they could make it if they went straight to parade and changed afterwards.
Another two minutes and he was good and officially annoyed. They were going to be late. For her first day at fifteen. He jumped out of the truck, leaving it idling, and went and banged on her door.
When she didn't answer he started to get concerned – there was no way that Andy McNally was going to be late for her first day. He peeked in the windows that framed her door, noting that she still hadn't gotten them frosted like he'd been telling her for weeks to do, and when he didn't see any movement in the house he pulled his phone out to call her, speed dial three.
"Hey," she answered quietly, sounding like she was making an effort to keep her voice down.
He breathed out a sigh of relief that she was sounded okay but then immediately switched back over to being annoyed. "Where are you?" he asked without preamble.
"I'm at the station," she replied, still talking quietly. There was a little bit of an echo, like she was cupping her hand around the phone.
"At the stati…" he broke off, pinching the bridge of his nose. "McNally, I've been waiting on you for twenty minutes."
"Why?"
"What do you mean, why?" he asked, dodging the ice on the sidewalk as he made his way back to the truck. "I thought we were going to ride in together?
"We never talked about that."
Sam paused, truly dumbfounded. She was absolutely the most stubborn, passive-aggressive individual he'd ever met. He blinked and shook his head a little. "Right," he replied sarcastically, "Because it's such an illogical conclusion to come to, I can't believe I just assumed …"
"Well, you know what they say about assuming things," Andy interrupted, sounding irritated with him which just frustrated him even more. "And why would you wait twenty minutes to call me?"
"Because I didn't think you were going to stand me up," he retorted, swinging himself up into the cab.
"Look… I've got to go," Andy told him, ignoring the last thing he said. He could hear the metallic clang of lockers opening closing in the background. "Best wants to meet with me before parade." She sighed and then he could hear the tiniest smidge of concern enter her voice, "You better hurry, you're going to be late."
"Yeah, I know I'm going to be late," he growled, pulling onto the street and cutting off another car. He got honked at and barely resisted the urge to flip the guy off.
"Well… just hurry," Andy advised unhelpfully before he heard a beep and then the empty dial tone.
He groaned and threw his cellphone into the passenger's seat.
He wasn't actually that late to parade – Best had already started but he was able to slip in next to Oliver in the back. Andy was sitting at the very front, of course, her long braid hanging down her back and swinging to the side when she ducked her head to whisper something to Traci. She didn't bother to look back at him even when Best called him out. "Nice of you to join us, Swarek."
"Do what I can," he replied casually, tugging his belt into place as he leaned against a table. His eyes were focused on Andy, just waiting for her to turn around and meet his gaze, but she never did.
Oliver witnessed the exchange or, rather, lack of exchange, and when Sam looked at over at him he just grinned broadly. "Rough morning?" he asked, his brow furrowing with false sympathy.
"Shut up," Sam replied, taking the coffee cup from his hand and downing what was left before handing it back. "That's disgusting."
Oliver just threw the cup into the nearest trash bin. "McNally got here with time to spare," he murmured quietly.
"Yeah," Sam said, like that had been the plan all along. "And?"
"Just assumed you guys would ride in together, that's all," Oliver replied, shrugging.
Sam's mouth twitched, wanting to admit that he'd assumed the very same thing. Instead, he folded his arms over his chest and looked forward. "Well, you know what they say about assuming." It came out a lot harsher than he'd intended. He was crabby, he couldn't help it – he didn't get much sleep and his jackass filter was off.
Oliver raised an eyebrow but turned his attention back to Best without another word. After a few more minutes and a warning – "It's icy out there, be careful" – assignments were given and they were released. Andy was paired with Noelle and Sam was with Oliver; he wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved not to be working with Andy.
"You and me buddy," Oliver said as they waited for everyone to file out of the room. "It's been a while."
Sam hummed a response as he watched Andy make her way to the door. She had to walk right by him to get out so she was going to be forced to acknowledge him at some point. He dropped down a little more, sticking his legs further out into the small walkway, so she'd have to either trip over him or ask him to move.
However, Noelle caught up to her when they were about three feet away and started in on laying down expectations and ground rules and giving instructions. Andy nodded, trying to follow along, and when they passed by him her eyes just flicked up to meet his for a fraction of a second as she carefully stepped over his out-stretched legs.
He quickly decided he wasn't a big fan of the silent treatment routine.
When they were gone, Sam dropped his head and sighed, trying to ward off the tension headache that was forming behind his eyes.
"Trouble in paradise?" Oliver asked, not sounding quite as gleeful as he had five minutes earlier.
Sam groaned and then admitted, "I might have said something last night that pissed her off."
"You?" Oliver scoffed mockingly. "I don't believe it."
Sam chuckled a little at that, straightening up.
"She'll forgive you brother, I always do." Oliver assured him, clapping him on the back as they finally exited the parade room. "Let's go chase some bad guys, eh?"
They didn't get to chase any bad guys. Temperatures had dipped well below freezing that night, causing the already rain-soaked streets from the day before to ice up like skating rinks. Salt and sand had been put out but the roads were still slick during rush hour traffic, causing what seemed like an endless number of traffic accidents.
Sam and Oliver were called to a particularly bad one – a multiple vehicle collision in the middle of a busy intersection. One car hadn't been able to stop at the red light and skidded into oncoming traffic, causing a pile up in all directions. Noelle and Andy were already there when they arrived, checking on the occupants of the cars and setting up cones. Noelle barked orders at them, asking Sam to help her while Oliver and Andy tried to direct traffic. Thankfully it seemed like there were only superficial injuries – even though there were several cars involved they had all been going slowly due to the ice.
Sam realized very quickly that working with Andy was going to present a whole new set of challenges he'd never dealt with on the job before and that he hadn't really been expecting to deal with when she brought up transferring. He seemed to be hyperaware of her – where she was in relation to him, how long it would take him to get to her, what she was doing and if she was doing it correctly. When she was with Boyd he'd been able to push it out of his mind and not think about all of the dangerous things she could be getting herself into, but that wasn't so easy to do when she was standing right in front of him.
It wasn't even like she was doing something that risky, although it was pretty hazardous to be standing out there in the middle of traffic on an icy road, but all of his protective instincts were going into overdrive. If Andy knew what he was thinking it would probably just piss her off even more and she'd accuse him of implying that she couldn't do her job. He couldn't help it though, how his focus kept shifting to her every couple of seconds, just for peace of mind that she was okay.
Everything was fine until Oliver cracked a joke that Andy laughed at, lowering her arms just for a second to clutch stomach. An impatient motorist took it as a sign to go and Andy had to jump out of the way to keep from getting hit.
Sam watched the whole thing like it was happening in slow motion. He saw the car start to go and his heart felt like it was going to pound right out of his chest in the half a second it took Andy to get out of the way. "God damn it, McNally," he yelled at her over the noise of the traffic, "Pay attention!"
Oliver's mouth gaped open and even Noelle's eyes widened for the briefest of moments.
It was the first thing he'd said to her since the phone call earlier that morning and, given the circumstances, it came across like a training officer giving a rookie a hard time rather than someone who cared about her being concerned for her safety.
Andy looked over at him, positively stricken and embarrassed, before she blinked and her face became a mask of indifference. She straightened, squaring her shoulders beneath the standard department-issued navy jacket she wore, and nodded a little, as if she was resigning herself to his asshatery and bucking herself up to just deal with it. "Yes sir, " she replied neutrally.
"It was my fault," Oliver called out, trying to smooth things over. "Won't happen again."
She wouldn't look at him for the remainder of the time they were at the scene.
When they finally got everything straightened out, Sam and Oliver climbed back into the cruiser and headed to another call.
"You've got to lighten up on her man," Oliver told him, carefully navigating through traffic. "I mean, I get it, no special treatment and all that, but just… chill out."
"That's not…" Sam trailed off, shaking his head. He really didn't want to get into it, so he changed the subject. "Are you letting Hannah go to that movie tonight?"
"The dancing penguin one?" Oliver asked, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Yeah, why?"
"You're aware that there are boys going?"
Oliver looked over at him like he had sprouted three heads. "Yeah, I'm aware."
"And you're just… fine with that?"
"Hannah's known most of 'em since she was in the third grade. They're pretty good kids and, you know, I trust Hannah. Plus," he added, "They all know I own a gun and that I can easily find out where they live."
Sam let out a snort of laughter. "Lindsey asked about going last night," he said after a minute, squinting against the glare of the sun reflecting off the ice.
"And let me guess… you said no?"
Sam nodded. "Kinda freaked out on her about it."
Oliver hesitated for a second, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel. "Look, can I give you some advice?"
"If I say no, is that gonna stop you?"
"No," Oliver admitted with a slight grin before his tone turned serious. "But listen, I know that with everything that, you know, happened with Sarah and with some of the stuff we see on the job you probably want to keep Lindsey holed up in the house at all times or at least, like, put a tracking device on her or something, but you can't do that. It'll drive you crazy and it'll drive her crazy and before you know it she'll be rebelling and sneaking out and getting tattoos and doing all kinds of…"
"I get the picture," Sam said, holding up a hand and interrupting him. He didn't need Oliver to go into all of the different ways in which Lindsey could rebel.
Oliver nodded. "Right, so, you can't do that. You've gotta let her be a kid. And if all she wants to do is go see some gay penguin dancing around…" he broke off, shrugging. "Pick your battles, man."
Sam eyed his friend warily. "That's good advice."
Oliver brushed an invisible piece of lint from his shoulder. "Yeah, I know."
"You come up with that on your own?"
Oliver cut his eyes over. "What are you trying to say?"
Sam shrugged. "Just that it sounds like something Zoe would say, that's all."
"You don't think that in all my years of parenthood I might have picked up a little bit of wisdom?" Oliver asked, sounding offended.
Sam just raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, okay," Oliver admitted, shrugging. "I didn't want Hannah to go to the movies either but Zoe informed me that I was being a dumbass."
"Andy basically said the same thing," Sam told him commiseratingly.
"Is that what led to the," Oliver waved his hand around, searching for a description for what he had witnessed, "Freeze out this morning?"
Sam nodded. "I may have told her that her opinion didn't matter because she wasn't Lindsey's mom."
Oliver was quiet for a stretch before letting out a low whistle. "Wow. You really are a dumbass."
"Yeah," Sam grimaced. Just thinking about her face from the night before was like a punch in the gut.
Oliver looked over at him curiously. "So did you just need a break from getting laid all the time or…?"
"Shut up."
Oliver chuckled and then glanced sidelong at his friend. "You want some more advice?" he offered.
Sam thought for a moment and then threw his hands up. "Sure, why not?"
"Tell her how important she is to you and then beg for forgiveness," Oliver replied immediately with wisdom that came from years of experience.
"Yeah," Sam nodded, letting out a resigned sigh. "That's what I was thinking." They rode in silence for a couple of minutes before Sam asked, "So the penguin's gay?"
"Pretty sure, yep."
Sam jutted his chin out, chewing on his bottom lip. "Huh. Interesting."
At the end of what seemed like another endless shift, Sam waited for Andy outside of the locker room, the sole of his boot flat against wall and one hand rubbing out the kinks in his neck. He was exhausted and the cinderblock was cool and hard against the back of his head so he let his eyes drift closed only to open them with a start every time the locker door swung open.
She was taking her sweet time that was for sure, way longer than he knew it actually took her to get ready – probably trying to wait him out, hoping that he'd give up and go home without her so that they wouldn't have to talk.
He was just as stubborn as she was though and he wasn't going anywhere, so unless she climbed out through the ventilation shaft he was at least going to see her before she left.
Nash and Peck had already gone, both seeming to know exactly why he was standing there. Nash shot daggers at him with her eyes and Peck didn't even try to hide her wide toothy grin, looking endlessly amused by whatever she thought was going on. He kept his face neutral, not really acknowledging but not ignoring them either. Noelle left a couple of minutes later and actually rolled her eyes at him, mumbling, "You're a damned fool," under her breath.
Yes, he was aware, thank you.
And he was very much aware of how it looked for him to be waiting on her; he was getting ready to grovel because he was in the proverbial doghouse and it was obvious to pretty much everyone with half a clue. He hoped she could appreciate the hits that his dignity was taking with every minute that passed by but in reality he knew that she was probably doing it on purpose just to knock him down a couple of pegs.
She finally exited the locker room with her head down, her still-damp hair falling around her shoulders and wetting the back of her coat, and didn't notice him (or, at least, pretended she didn't notice him) as she walked by. "McNally," he called out. She kept walking so he pushed himself off the wall to follow and tried a different tactic. "Andy, please wait."
There was a hint of desperation in his tone that he didn't love but at least it got her attention. Andy came to a full stop and waited a couple of seconds, like she was trying to decide if she really had the energy for the confrontation, before turning around.
When she did he felt some of the tension leave his shoulders. "Hi," he said.
She finally looked up at him and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Hey," she replied evenly, crisp and emotionless. Sam wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not – on one hand she wasn't being openly hostile but on the other she didn't seem exactly thrilled to be talking to him.
"You…" his voice cracked and suddenly it felt like he had sandpaper in his throat, so he broke off and swallowed a couple of times before trying again. "You wanna go on a date with me?" he asked with a grin, flashing his dimples.
She was staring at him with completely dull eyes and, as much as he would never admit it to anyone, there really weren't too many measures he wouldn't go to in order to get her to start smiling at him again. It was a tactic that usually worked – Andy would get fired up about something and he'd just grin at her, maybe flick her hair at little, until her expression melted and she wasn't irritated with him anymore.
It didn't seem to be working.
Andy arched an eyebrow, completely unsympathetic to his obvious discomfort and, he realized with a pang of disappointment, seemingly immune to his charm. She looked disappointed in him and even… disenchanted, actually. Like he'd reached a low she hadn't thought he was capable of. "Not really."
Sam pressed his lips together and nodded slowly. "Okay," he said, chuckling a little. "I guess I deserved that."
Andy opened her mouth to speak but closed it when she heard a group of officers coming up behind her, shoes squeaking against the floor. She squeezed against the wall to give them space to get by, politely nodding and forcing a smile at each one, while Sam stayed rooted in his spot and ignored them, his eyes never leaving Andy.
When the officers turned the corner and they were alone again, Andy folded her arms and addressed Sam. "You were an asshole today," she informed him, taking a step closer and lowering her voice.
Sam winced. "Yeah, I know," he admitted, bracing an arm against the wall. "I'm sorry. If it makes a difference, I wasn't actively trying to be an asshole out there."
Andy raised her shoulders and pursed her lips, shaking her head. "So, what? It just came naturally?"
"No, that's not…" he sighed and then tried again. "It came out wrong," he said. "I saw the car start to go and I thought it was going to hit you and I just…" he broke off again, not knowing how to explain what had happened. He had been scared, was what it was, and he didn't deal with that very well.
Andy wasn't letting him off the hook though. "And you, what? Thought it was a good idea to yell at me in front of two of my superior officers? Make me look like an idiot?"
"Andy," he said softly, his brow furrowing. "No, of course not."
"Well, that's what you did."
"Neither of them think that you're an idiot," he tried to assure her, reaching out for her arm. He tugged her closer, until she was in the little nook created by his arm and the wall. "They both know that I'm the idiot… Oliver told me so himself, so did Noelle just a couple of minutes ago." She still didn't look convinced. "Look, I promise, you want me to go talk to them or something? Clear everything up?"
"What? God, no!" she exclaimed, looking at him like he just suggested they go kick puppies. "And make them think I need my," she waved her hands in his general direction, "You, to make sure all the big kids like me? No, no way. No, thank you."
He caught her flailing hands in his and pulled her to him. "McNally, come here," he said, holding her until she calmed down, mostly just because he needed to touch her. When he felt like she wasn't going to hit him, he let go of her hands and pushed her hair back off of her face. He bent his knees slightly so that he was right in her eye line. "I am very sorry."
Her hands settled at his waist, bunching the material of his jacket in her fists. She looked at him for a second, her eyes warming just the slightest bit, before letting out a huff and glancing up at the ceiling. "We're going to like, actually need to talk about how we act at work," she told him. "We probably should have a long time ago, before I even put in for the transfer, but I didn't realize…" she trailed off, shaking her head, and then regrouped. "I don't want relationship stuff to affect how we do our jobs and I don't want us to be pissed at each other all the time. We need to come to some sort of understanding about how this is going to work."
"I agree," Sam assured her. He squinted down and asked, "Can we talk about it later, though? At home?"
She pursed her lips and nodded in agreement. Then she studied his face intently for a moment, worrying her bottom lip, before asking, "Did you mean it? Last night… did you mean it?"
Up until that point he had been fairly certain that she knew him well enough to realize that he had been full of crap the night before. He opened his mouth, wanting to reassure her, but he couldn't seem to find the words.
The afternoon shift was starting to filter towards parade and there many curious glances were being directed their way. At that very moment, Sam really couldn't have cared less, but Andy kept shuffling around uncomfortably and letting her hair fall in front of her face whenever someone walked by.
"Come on," he said, leading her down the hallway in the opposite direction of the parade room and around the corner. When he felt like they were hidden away enough, he gently pushed her back against the wall and took her face in his hands. "No," he said firmly. "I did not mean it. You know that."
She blinked like she was trying to decide if she believed him and then nodded slightly under his palms. Relief washed through him and Sam let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding when he felt the movement.
"I know," she said quietly. "Still sucked to hear though."
She was pouting, which made Sam's heart ache a little, and he couldn't decide if the better course of action would be to lean down and nibble at her bottom lip until she opened her mouth and let him kiss her or actually tell her how he felt.
He wet his lips and leaned in just a fraction of an inch when she raised an eyebrow and put a hand against his chest, stopping him. Oliver's words came rushing back to him.
"Tell her how important she is to you and then beg for forgiveness."
He didn't move away but he did brace one hand above her shoulder and let the other fall to the curve of her waist. "Andy, next to Lindsey… you are…" he dropped his gaze and his thumb traced the stitching on her coat. It was one thing to want to tell her and a whole different thing to actually do it. He cleared his throat and met her eye. "You matter to me, okay? Your opinions matter to me. Next to Lindsey, you are the most important person in my life and I am sorry that I made you feel any differently. I..."
He loved her. He realized in that moment, clear as day, that he loved her. He'd thought it before, several times actually, but right then, he knew it.
He wasn't about to tell her though, not tucked away in the corner of some hallway at the station and not when she might think he was just saying it so she'd forgive him.
She blinked up at him with her big brown eyes, waiting for him to continue.
"I want you to tell me what you think," he finished. "Always. Even when I don't want to hear it."
She smiled and rolled her shoulders back, standing up straighter. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
Her eyes were starting to shimmer again. "You're probably going to regret saying that you know," she warned him.
Sam grinned down at her. "Probably."
She hooked her fingers through his belt loops and pulled until he was right up against her. "Sorry I ditched you this morning."
"Ah, so that was on purpose," Sam said, wrapping his hand around to the nape of her neck.
Andy pulled her lip between her teeth and shrugged. "Maybe. Forgive me?"
Instead of answering, Sam tugged on her hair until she tilted her face up. He leaned in, bumping his nose against hers, and then flicked his eyes up in a silent request. She knew what he was asking and parted her lips in an invitation, standing up on her toes to shorten the distance between them. He pecked at the corner of her mouth first, light and gentle, grinning against her, until she let out an irritated whine. The last thing he wanted to do was piss her off again, so he took the hint and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her properly. He wasn't trying for anything, really, they were still at work, but he missed her and she didn't protest when he swept his tongue over her lip, seeking entrance.
The kiss seemed to deepen and intensify on it's own and before he knew it he had her back flush against the wall with his knee in between her legs and his hips pressing involuntarily against hers.
She let out a whimper and he broke away, panting. "McNally..." he sucked in a deep breath of air and let his forehead drop against hers. "We, um…" he closed his eyes and swallowed. "We should probably go."
"Yeah," Andy nodded, her chest still heaving slightly, "Yeah, we should." He felt her warm hand against his face and the soft pad of her thumb brushed over his cheekbone until he opened his eyes. "You ready?"
Sam nodded, taking one of her hands in his. "You gonna let me drive you home?"
Andy shrugged. "Only because the truck has heated seats."
"Oh, is that the only reason?" he teased.
She grinned and then shook her head, "No."
He was about to lean in and kiss her again but she laughed and pushed him away. "Sam," she said, tugging on his arm, "Come on, we need to go. At this point Lindsey's probably going to beat us home."
"Someone else I need to apologize too," Sam grumbled as she pulled him out to the lot.
Andy grinned with mock sympathy as she hoisted herself up into the truck. "It hasn't been a great couple of days for you, has it?"
Sam just smirked and shut her door before rounding to the driver's side. "I actually wanted to ask you about that," he said, starting the ignition. "I'm gonna let Lindsey go to that movie tonight and I didn't know if you maybe wanted to go out to dinner or something."
Andy pulled her seatbelt across her chest. "Tonight?"
"Yeah," Sam replied, checking his watch. "I think the movie starts at seven. Zoe Shaw's gonna pick her up at six fifteen."
Andy thought about it and wrinkled her nose. "Are you going to be upset if I say no? Not to you," she rushed to clarify, "Just to going out?" "
Sam chuckled and shook his head. "No," he said, lacing his fingers with hers and settling their hands on top of the console.
"Good," Andy sighed and sank back into her seat. "I slept like crap last night and all I want to do is pull on some sweats and crash in front of the TV."
It shouldn't have made him happy that she had trouble sleeping too, but it did. "That's all you want to do, huh?" he asked, checking in the rearview mirror before glancing over at her and quirking an eyebrow.
"Well," Andy drawled, a slow, knowing grin spreading across her face. "Not all I want to do …" she said. "If Lindsey goes to a movie we'll have the entire house to ourselves."
"What are we going to do with ourselves?" Sam asked innocently.
Andy's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure we can think of something."
Sam grinned over at her and then turned his attention back to the street in front of him. "How'd the rest of your day go?"
"It was fine. One traffic accident after another." She shrugged and then off-handedly added, "I think you actually helped me out with Noelle, though."
"What do you mean?" he asked.
Andy chewed her bottom lip for a moment, like she wished she hadn't brought it up. "Okay," she said finally, "I'm gonna tell you this and you're not going to get upset about it, okay?"
Sam rolled his eyes, wondering what in the world she was getting ready to say. "Just tell me," he said, not promising anything.
"Okay, well…" she hesitated for a couple of seconds but then forged ahead. "The first thing that Noelle said to me when we got in the cruiser was not to expect special treatment because I was sleeping with a superior officer."
"Really?" Sam asked, his eyebrows shooting up. He wasn't surprised, exactly. Noelle could be a hardass and had very little patience or respect for anyone, especially women, who tried to get ahead by any means other than good, solid police work. However, if Oliver was correct, and he usually was, she and Frank Best had started something up. It seemed a little hypocritical.
"You said you weren't going to get upset, remember?"
"I never actually said that," he reminded her.
"Anyway," Andy continued. "I think she was just trying to feel me out which I was expecting but then after your little... I don't know, outburst… she was a lot nicer to me. I guess she felt bad for me for something." She glanced over at him and must have read something in is expression. "I'm not telling you that to make you feel bad, I promise, I'm totally over it. I'm just… telling you how my day went, that's all."
Sam nodded slowly and then squeezed her hand. "Okay," he said simply.
Andy smiled over at him and then launched into a story about a driver at one of the accidents they'd been called to. "He wasn't wearing pants, Sam, all he had on was a pair of crusty old underwear," she complained, half whining and half laughing. "Who doesn't put on pants when they leave their house?"
Sam just laughed and shook his head, glad that McNally was back.
Lindsey's book bag was in the foyer when they got home so Sam told Andy to get comfortable and then he made his way up the stairs and knocked on her door. "Lindsey?"
"Yeah?" was her muffled reply.
"Can I come in?"
"Whatever." Sam pushed the door open and stepped inside. Lindsey was seated at her desk and she looked up at him skeptically, raising an eyebrow. "Don't worry," she said, tapping her pencil against her notebook. "I didn't talk to any boys today."
Sam sighed and dropped down to the edge of her bed, planting his hands on his knees. "Listen, Lindsey," he started. "I may not have been completely fair last night." She stared at him blankly so he continued, apologizing for what felt like the eighteenth time that day. "I'm sorry that I jumped to conclusions and that I didn't listen to you about the movie tonight."
"Okay," she said, her expression softening the slightest bit.
"I know that you probably think I have everything figured out…"
"I don't think that," she interrupted him.
Sam blinked. "What?"
"I don't think you have everything figured out," she clarified bluntly.
He could have guessed that Lindsey was going to be tougher to crack than Andy. "Okay," he said, chuckling, "Well, that's good, because I don't. This whole… you growing up thing and boys and dating…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm not a hundred percent okay with it."
"Yeah, I know, Uncle Sam," she replied, flipping through the pages of a textbook to make it clear that she had better things to be doing with her time. "You made that clear last night."
"Lindsey," he leaned over and gently took the book from her, closing it and tossing it on the bed. "Look at me please." She scowled and let out a huff but then turned in her chair so that she was facing him. "I'm going to be honest with you for a minute here, okay? Can I talk to you like an adult?"
Lindsey finally met his gaze and nodded once. "Yeah."
"I know that it probably seems like I'm just trying to ruin all of your fun all of the time, but I want you to understand where I coming from."
"You mean about what happened to mom?" she asked, looking down at her hands.
Sam covered both of her small hands with one of his. "Yeah, what happened to your mom," he said, "And stuff I see at work. And you know, I don't want that kind of stuff to scare you but it's hard for me to separate that from you."
"I know," Lindsey whispered.
"But I want to," Sam told her earnestly. Her eyes flew up to meet his and he nodded. "I trust you, Lindsey, and I want you to have fun with your friends. In groups," he clarified, grinning and making her laugh. "Big groups, for right now at least. Until you're like… I don't know, forty. Then we can talk about dating."
"So, does that mean…" she trailed off hopefully.
"I'm going to let you go tonight," he said.
Her face brightened for a second but then she narrowed her eyes like she didn't quite believe him. "Really?"
"Really," he confirmed. Before she could get too excited he held up a hand. "I have some rules though for tonight and for…" he waved his hand around, rolling his eyes. "The future."
"Anything," she promised, sweeping her hands out.
"First of all," he said, holding up a finger, "No matter how dumb you think it is, I need to know all of the names of the kids that will be there."
Lindsey nodded along, looking like she was ready to agree to just about anything. "Okay."
"Second, tonight you are going to take my phone and you are going to call Andy as soon as Mrs. Shaw picks you up after the movie's over, got it?"
"Can I just text you instead?"
Sam shook his head. "No, I want to hear your voice. And tomorrow you and I are gonna go out and get you your own phone.
Lindsey grinned. "My own phone?"
"Not a cool one," Sam told her. "No Angry Birds or whatever, just a phone that you can call and text on, okay?"
Lindsey nodded, still grinning broadly. "Okay, yeah, that's fine. Anything else?"
"There's a six week self defense class that starts up in a couple of weeks at the station." He pointed at her. "You're going to take it. Hannah Shaw's taking it too, so you won't be alone."
"I can do that," Lindsey declared. "Is that it?"
"That's it," Sam said. "For now, at least. Until I think of something else."
Lindsey waited half a second before launching herself at him. "Thank you!" she said, wrapping her skinny arms around his neck. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."
"You're welcome, kid," he said, laughing and patting her back.
Andy helped Lindsey pick out something to wear and at six fifteen on the dot Lindsey was bounding out to Zoe Shaw's SUV, waving back to Andy and Sam. She got halfway down the stairs and then turned on her heel and ran back up. "I need some cash," she said, holding out her hand. Her eyes were shining and her nose and cheeks were already starting to turn pink from the cold night air.
Sam grumbled and reached for his wallet, pulling out a couple of bills. He was about to hand it over when Andy elbowed him in the ribs. "That's not enough for candy."
Sam rolled his eyes and pulled out another five. Lindsey plucked the bills from his hand with a grin. "Thank you!" she said brightly, running to the car with her scarf flying out behind her.
"Well," Sam muttered to Andy, leaning against the doorframe, "It's a good thing we're not going to dinner 'cause she just cleaned me out."
Andy just patted his shoulder sympathetically. They waited until the taillights disappeared and then slipped back into the house.
"So," Sam said, shutting the door, "What're we gonna do?"
She was in his arms and already yanking his shirt over his head when she laughed and told him, "I think the better question is where are we gonna do it?"