Andy stood her ground, vase raised still, trying to make herself seem threatening, but she had a feeling that's not how she was coming off.

"Holy shi-"

The guys foot slips a bit and he barely catches himself. His breath is coming in fast and hard, and he seemed to be trying to collect himself, but she figured now's the time to pounce.

She looked him up and down. He didn't seem to be attempting a heist. Tight red tee shirt, dark blue jeans, heavy work boots... Not exactly subtle.

He wasn't wearing a cap or pantyhose over his head. His black hair was styled, a little poofy spike thing going on, and his face shaved. His dark eyes weren't foggy or cloudy, but a very distinct and very deep brown, with it. He even had his hands raised a little, in surrender, she supposed.

"Who are you?" Andy asked loudly, voice pitchy, having been quiet for so long, and that damn nap...

"Who the hell are you?!" He fired back quickly, surprised, and a little - he looked mad.

"This is my grandmother's house, now you better give me a reason for breaking in or I swear to God-"

And then he had the nerve to smirk at her. She watched as he shifted his weight between his feet and eventually rested his hands on his hips.

She scoffed at his dismissal of her, and finding amusement in her threat so quickly.

"Hey!"

"What, you're gonna throw that at my head?"

"I've got pretty good aim, pal." She shot back, snottily.

He visibly relaxed and tucked his hands under opposite armpits, standing tall and broad, definitely not backing down. She made herself stand up straighter. And though she didn't sense this was a burglary, and could now see his set of house keys on the desk behind him, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

"Oh yeah?"

His blatant disregard for the fact that he had no business being there, that he seemed so entitled and cocky... She really did want to prove it to him. But he also took her off guard with his attitude.

"Put it down, Sweetheart." He said, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I work on Ruth's house sometimes. She was supposed to be in the city this morning, collecting, well, you. When I didn't see her car I figured she wasn't back yet, let myself in."

She relaxes her entire body. The tool box, water glass, and towel corroborated that story. As did his muddy work boots, which, well he must not be over much because Ruth would surely not allow that.

"Door was locked."

"I have my own key." He said, raising it for her to see. "Now if you're done with the inquisition, I'm just going to grab my cheque and go."

"Well hang on-"

"I'd love to hang out. Really, I would. Get to know you, braid each other's, uh, hair, but now's really-"

He was interrupted with the opening of the front door.

They both turned around quickly and Andy lowered the vase when she saw Ruth step through the door.

"Andy!" She called, not yet seeing them only a few feet away. "I forgot my- Sam?"

Ruth paused in the doorway while Andy looked down and rolled onto the balls of her feet a little. A nervous habit she's never been able to shake, and hates how childish it made her look, especially in front of that guy.

Ruth looked as though she were waiting for some sort of explanation so Andy just turned to the intruder.

To Sam.

Andy took him in now with a name to match, and she watched as his face softened drastically and he smiled at her grandmother. His smile... it didn't suck. He had dimples that hugged his mouth and made his eyes shine. Pearly white teeth that, when bared, made him appear totally welcoming.

"Sorry Ruth, just came to get the cheque, didn't know your granddaughter was here already."

Andy frowned at him a little then, catching herself. She turned to thinking about how his behaviour had changed only for Ruth's sake. Otherwise he'd still be scoffing and stomping around. She rolled her eyes at him, and he brought his attention back to her, though this time, he had the decency to look a little apologetic.

"I think I gave her a scare." His eyes fluttered up to inspect Andy's posture too, see how she'd relaxed, and lowered her weapon.

He dropped her gaze quickly though, seeing confusion there, his sudden 180. Truth is he knows he's testy today, and he did freak her out. He pushed her too far.

With her eyebrows and jaw relaxed, her eyes having gone back in her head, she looked more her age. Eyes softer, Bambi-ish, and jaw sharp... she was a natural and unique kind of beautiful.

He shifted his focus from the floor to Ruth, the kind old woman studying the two of them curiously.

"Yes... Andy, you can put down the vase, Love. Sam this is my granddaughter, Andy McNally. Andy, this is Sam. He does some odd jobs for me around the house. This old girl can't do it all on her own any more. I just leave him with a list and 'POOF' like magic, it's taken care of. He's building me a green house as well." Ruth said, putting her purse down and the one bag of groceries she'd managed to buy.

Andy nodded, peeking out the kitchen window at the building site.

The tension in the room was really only felt between Sam and Andy as Ruth went about putting the groceries away. Sam turned the envelope over in his hands and scratched the back of his neck, with a slight grimace on his face.

Andy walked further into the room, approaching the desk near where Sam still stood, and reached out to put the vase down, his demeanour shifting as she approached. Definitely still tension.

"Now, Sam, you're staying for dinner tonight aren't you? It's tradition, Andy, Sam stays for dinner every other Sunday." She announced proudly, putting the milk in the fridge. "Always will. Until some girl in the city snatches him away and he stops visiting me."

Sam nodded and suppressed a grin as Ruth spoke and Andy looked at the way they interacted. Watching Ruth for only another second, Sam took to helping her unpack the grocery bag, with an obvious knowledge of where things go. There was so much ease in the way they moved around each other, and a seemingly genuine friendship between them that had Andy a little confused. What could a thirty year old man have in common with her grandmother?

Why did she treat him like family, when she hadn't spoken to Andy in years, save for birthday and Christmas cards?

"You drive up every other Sunday from Toronto?" Andy asked incredulously, trying to put his story together. It didn't make sense to her, their relationship to one another.

Ruth laughed, but patted Sam's shoulder as she passed him to place something in the pantry and Sam stopped and looked to Andy.

"No, I'm up here for a couple of months. Visiting my sister." Sam said, leaning over the table to pick up the separated sections of the newspaper and tucking them under his arm. "But Sarah can be a nightmare, so I spend most of my days down here."

Andy raised an eyebrow, wondering what kind of job in the city would allow him to take off for a couple of months. Teacher, probably. It is nearly summer.

She nodded, and watched as he tossed the papers into the recycling bin under the sink and Ruth moved to that end of the kitchen too, grabbing the kettle to fill it.

"Won't you stay for some tea, Sam?" Ruth asked, smiling at him warmly, looking almost mischievous.

Andy had to restrain a groan, wanting to avoid sitting with him after the way they'd both behaved, and he must have caught it because he shook his head in response.

"I'll be back for dinner. Gotta get to the bank and do some stuff for Sarah first."

Andy watched as Sam leaned over a little and kissed Ruth on the cheek and tucked the envelope into his back pocket as he walked past Andy.

"Nice to meet you, Andy." He said without stopping.

"I have a leaky sink!" She shouted spastically, wanting the final word. The last thing she needs is a reputation in this house as a softy. Though apparently, it might just be Ruth, which she never would have seen coming.

Her grandmother looked at her like she'd grown a second head but it didn't seem to faze Sam at all because he kept walking.

"I'll add it to the list." He laughed.

Andy looked at the floor until she heard the front door close and then when she exhaled and looked around the kitchen as though nothing weird had just happened. When she did muster the courage to look at her grandmother, she was met with a raised eyebrow.

"What?"

"Run a comb through that mane before dinner would you?" Ruth chuckled, tossing a dish cloth over her shoulder and turning back to the sink.

Andy stood in her bedroom, listening to Ruth and Sam make conversation while she finished shimmying her wet legs into her jeans.

She didn't mean to shower for so long, but it felt nice to wash away the grime and the baggage that came with coming back, and to wash away the dreariness that followed her nap. She brushed her teeth furiously too, and combed her wet mess of waves, but she still looked tired and drained. Bothering with her every day makeup seemed futile, so she put some moisturizer on her face and tied her hair in a bun.

Staying in her room a little longer was all she wanted. She wanted to let them have their own little tradition... she didn't want to participate. Andy didn't want to paint on a fake smile and make polite conversation. She didn't want to be here, and she didn't want to be home. She just wanted to escape.

Throwing on a grey cardigan, she opened the door, and heard the conversation in the kitchen quiet. When she turned the corner, she saw Ruth and Sam at the counter chopping vegetables, looking over their shoulders at her.

"Andy, why don't you grab an apron and check on Sam's curry for us, hmm?" Ruth asked, quickly turning her attention back to the herbs she was chopping, leaving Andy's stare to find Sam's.

He managed a weak smile and she pressed her lips together and tried to do the same, though she's sure it looked forced. She followed Ruth's instructions and pulled an apron off the hook by the fridge, but only after she had tied it on did she notice she was the only one wearing one.

Andy began to wonder if it was difficult for Ruth to acknowledge that Andy was no longer ten years old and may actually be capable of stirring without making a mess. But then she feels herself taking it out on the spoon, and ends up creating splatter... all over the apron. Ruth comes up next to her, dropping the fresh herbs into the pot and places the burner on simmer, and drags Andy away.

"Okay, I'm going to go and water the garden before I lose the daylight. Sam, Andy's taking over as sous-chef."

Before either one had an opportunity to object, Ruth was pulling on her gum boots and flannel jacket at the back door.

As they listened to Ruth move off the porch and onto the lawn, Sam cleared his throat and turned around to face her where she stood in front of the stove. He leaned back against the counter and she noticed he'd already started on a beer, and she decided she was going to need one too. She was only just opening the fridge next to her when he began speak.

"So uh, I just wanted to say I'm sorry about earlier. I mean, I clearly scared you and I wasn't in a great mood." He said genuinely, but making only partial eye contact.

"It's okay." Andy replied flatly, trying to distract herself from how isolated they were. No matter how odd things were going to be at dinner at least her grandma was a buffer. "What do you need me to do?"

Sam seemed surprised that that's all she had to say about what transpired, and that there was nothing she wanted to say on her end. He blew out a breath, and looked at the counters and stove and merely shrugged.

"We're just waiting on the rice, so, there's nothing really left to do."

Andy reached into the utensil drawer in search of the bottle opener, but before she could even search around for it, Sam stepped in.

"Let me." He said, plucking the bottle from her hands.

He placed the edge of the cap on the counter and brought the flat of his hand down, separating it from the bottle.

"Thank you." She smiled, a little more than mildly amused by the action.

She took it back from him, and the long sleeves of her cardigan protected her hands from the cool bottle. Leaning back against the counter, the same way Sam had, she felt the need to let the words that were choking her get out.

"I'm sorry too... I mean, I don't know why but. I'm sorry, cause, things are weird, and you're going to be here a lot, right? So, I'm sorry. Let's just forget it. Disregard."

While she expected a smile, he only offered her a roll of his eyes, and she wondered if her words were too blasé. Then again, she didn't really have anything to apologize for in the first place. He was being a dick. She was scared. This was her residence for the next few months and for a split second she felt unsafe. Everything she did was defensive, and he wrote her off.

So instead of trying to rephrase it, she huffed and walked across the kitchen, wanting a little distance.

At long last Ruth returned to the eerily quiet kitchen to find her guests in some kind of standoff, staring at one another.

"Andy's just finished her third year of psychology." Ruth said loudly over the quiet dinner table. "And a minor in criminology, right?"

They had all tucked in to the curry a while ago, and were all fine with the silence as they tasted the first few bites and satisfied their hunger. The pace slowed after not too long and they sipped the wine that Sam had brought for Ruth to accompany it, and now there was a lull as they toyed with the last few bites left on their plates.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, perking up at conversation, most likely dwindling in the tension. "What're you looking to get into?"

Andy bit the inside of one cheek and tried not to play the game tape of her dad drilling her with the same question for the last two years, but failed.

"I don't know... yet." She said, as pleasantly as possible, but was certain it wasn't very.

"I can remember when you were just a girl, you always walked around telling everybody you wanted to be a cop. Just like your daddy. You asked us all to call you McNally. 'Officer McNally'."

Andy watched as a memory lit up in her grandmother's eyes and a small smile touch the edge of Sam's mouth.

She remembered that very well. Tommy would let her polish his badge every once in a while. She'd steal his old uniform shirts and wear them to bed, dangling well past her knobby knees.

One morning, the morning of a funeral for one of his colleagues - a long time friend - he had his dress blues laid out. Andy took his cap off the desk, and put it on her small head, let the brim fall over her eyes so that all Tommy could see was some wisps of hair from her messy ponytail and her wide, partially toothed, smile. He laughed for the first time in two days that morning.

But then... then after Claire left, there were the nights she'd unclip his badge from his belt once he'd passed out from the excess of scotch he'd thrown back. A good day, successful interrogation, a bad day, someone getting off the hook or an innocent civilian dead... it didn't matter. He had all kinds of days, and one way to finish them off. She'd lay out his dress blues for services he was in no shape to go to.

"A lot has changed since I was ten." Andy replied, hard.

She continued to push the last piece of chicken on her plate around in the rice and curry, dousing it fully, but not yet taking that last bite. The clanging of her companions' utensils was ringing more loudly now than earlier, and she knew it was because she had dumped her baggage on the conversation.

Sam cleared his throat hard, once and Andy forced a smile, trying to move forward, to undo her stunt.

"Uh, Sam, what did you study?"

It was Ruth's turn to put her fork down and fully face Andy but before she could answer on Sam's behalf, Sam spoke for himself.

"I didn't go to college."

It was frank, almost abrasive, and clearly something he'd had to defend before, because he looked like he was ready to tell her all the reasons why not, but Andy just leaned back a little. There was something in his eyes, the way he narrowed them, and poked his tongue into the side of his cheek that dared her to push him. But she didn't. She just watched him, watched his shield come up like he was defending himself against the Death Star.

She sat there and picked at a nail, thinking he was definitely not a teacher then.

"Okay then."

"Andy, Dear, I hadn't a clue what I wanted when I was twenty-one. You've got your whole life to find out what it is you want." Ruth insisted, drawing the conversation back to her, and taking the last sip from her wine glass. "And just when I thought I knew, I met your grandfather. Life is funny that way. Plans never seem to work out the way you expect."

"I guess."

Andy couldn't help the smile that ghosted her mouth at the mention of Ruth meeting her grandpa. When she looked back up at Sam across from her, checking to see if his shields were down, she saw him already staring back. His curious eyes did his best to bore into hers, the way she'd just been trying to do with him, but with a little less luck. She felt her girly romantic side showing even as she tried to suck it back in.

"Well that drive today took it out of me. If you two don't mind too much, I think I'll retire for the evening, catch up on some reading." Ruth said, pushing her chair back from the table.

"I'll clean up." Andy volunteered, reaching over to her grandmothers place to take her plate.

"Nonsense. Put on a pot of tea. We'll leave it for the morning. Goodnight Sam."

He seemed to stretch from his seat, standing slowly and rubbing his hands in his napkin before dropping it on top of his plate.

"I should head out myself..."

"No, no, no, you refused tea this afternoon. The least you can do is join Andy for some now."

"Ruth-"

"Samuel." She said sternly, and definitively, a tone Andy distinctly remembered. "Have one cup before you go. Help take the edge off the wine before you drive. Give this old woman a little peace of mind."

Sam sighed and dropped his hands from his hips to his side and nodded.

Ruth stepped closer to Sam and rubbed a hand up his arm comfortingly as he leaned in to kiss her on the cheek again, and Ruth squeezed Andy's hand in passing, uttering a quiet goodnight before ascending the stairs.

"No milk, no sugar, just plain old orange pekoe tea?"

"Yeah. What's so weird about that?"

Andy shook her head and stirred the milk in her tea, hoping it wasn't so much as to cool it off.

"Well nothing... if there are cookies or cake. But otherwise, you're just sipping on a cup of bitter."

Sam chuckled and hid his mouth behind the mug, taking a sip. He watched her while she sipped on her tea, tasting to see if she'd doctored it to perfection.

"Yeah well, you are what you eat."

Andy smirked and finally put the cap back on the milk jug, deciding that was good enough and turned her attention fully to her company.

"That's a little self deprecating." She said, eyeing him for any signs of discomfort.

Sam merely offered her an eye roll and cleared his throat, resting his elbows on the table, and hugging his palms around the mug.

"Don't shrink me, please. That, that stuff doesn't work."

"Wow. Thanks for completing invalidating the last three years of my life."

"I mean, for some people. Not for me."

Andy took another sip of her tea, watching Sam stare at his hands and waited for a crack in the foundation, but it ever came.

"People who think it's not for them are usually the least exempt."

"Read that in a text book, did you?" He bit.

"No. That's experience."

Sam's eyes did meet her then. Eyebrow up and mouth a little open. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

A look passed between them and Sam's shoulders relaxed. Andy didn't push, so Sam didn't have to resist. It felt easier in the room without a third party, and some distance from the days earlier fiasco. Sam knew he was going to have to find some common ground with her, if only for the summer. And Andy knew she'd need a good buffer in case things with Ruth go the way she was expecting them to.

"So. How'd you meet Ruth?" Andy asked.

"Ah, my sister. Sarah's known Ruth since she moved up here. Went to a public assembly or something. They were both pissed about where they wanted to start building the new city centre, went for coffee after."

Sam smiled, imagining the two impassioned women fuming at the city counsellors who were scrambling to get themselves out of town.

"Yeah. I can imagine Ruth getting pretty worked up about that. She loves this place. Always loved that it was small."

"Sarah's the same way. She doesn't live far from here, but far enough away from town. The last thing she'd want is a Ladies Fitness down the road."

Andy laughed, trying to imagine this place being busy and loud. Hearing traffic, and yelling, sirens. This was a haven away from the city. And as much as she didn't want to be here... she also kind of did.

They both took a drink from their mugs and Andy noted that she was about half way done now. She wasn't sure whether or not she wanted to slow her pace or down the rest in one go. But she figured she could save the chugging for in case things go south fast.

"So. Don't want to be a cop?" He asked, pulling Andy out of her anxious thoughts.

'Don't shrink me' she felt like saying.

"Not lately, no." Andy answered as honestly as she knew how to.

"Why not? I mean, what interested you in the first place?"

"I guess... I wanted to do something to help people."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, I mean, be out there, physically making a difference."

She wouldn't mind the gruelling hours in the heavy and hot uniform if it meant they got dangerous people off the street. She wouldn't mind sore feet or mind numbing paperwork if it meant helping families, children...

She had wanted to know exactly what was going on in her city.

"So... you changed your mind?"

"I value my sanity." She said quietly, wishing it hadn't popped out.

"What?"

"It's just not like I can go there, put in my hours and go home. That kind of job comes with a price."

But could she stand the days when help came too late? Could she compartmentalize? Would the alcoholism that ran through her veins become her crutch? Could she resist corruption?

In truth, she wanted to blame everything she'd seen in her father for her own in decision. But mostly, she feared she didn't have the strength to challenge her doubts and find out if she could succeed.

"Hmm. Yeah, I suppose it does." He muttered, a tone of understanding.

"Besides. How many people end up being what they wanted to be when they were a kid?" She laughed, not as humoured as she wanted to seem.

"Hey, if it's still what you want..." Sam glanced down then, noticing that his cup was nearly empty and Andy was fading every minute.

Her eyelids grew heavy and her eyes dreamy and he had the urge to lift her up and walk her to her bedroom. But before he could figure out what the hell kind of paternal place that came from, she stood up and reached over to grab his mug. He hadn't even noticed himself take the last drink.

"What I need is a good night's sleep." She sighed, looking slightly forlorn.

Sam nodded and stood with her as she collected the teapot and milk, and resisted following her into the kitchen. Instead he grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair and put it on in one clean swoop while he listened to her place the dishes in the sink.

A moment later she was slowly walking out to the front hall where Sam had wandered and leaned against the wall as he slipped on his boots.

(Ruth did have a thing about shoes in the house. Heard him get scolded when she stepped out of the shower.)

"Drive safe." She yawned, covering her mouth.

Sam smiled and nodded looking around the house to make sure everything was in place and accounted for. A nervous habit of his own.

He cleared his throat and swallowed hard, trying to clear the taste of tea from his mouth.

"Uh, yeah. Will do."

She smiled lazily, closed mouthed and watched as he opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. While he was patting his jacket and pockets, making sure he had everything he came with, he hovered there, and faced Andy one last time.

"Tell Ruth I'll be by tomorrow. And um, don't threaten me this time, okay?"

She managed a giggle, that morning seeming so silly and so long ago, and the wine made it easier to come to terms with too.

"I'll lock up my weapons."

"Goodnight, McNally." He said, her last name rolling off his tongue like the devil's candy.

She moved closer to the open door, watching him descend the stairs, and waiting until he hauled himself up into the high cab of his beastly truck and was safely locked inside.

She meant to close the door then, but lethargy took over and her eyes stayed fixed on the Ford until its taillights disappeared down the drive and were out of sight.