A/N: It seems it's much easier to write when it's procrastination for school work... so that will have to be explanation enough for my Xmas absence. I hope you all had a good holiday, and I'm sorry about the fic well running dry on us all. It's tough when there's nothing new to draw from. Hope you guys like the chapter, it's rather light with one heavy-ish moment. But they're on vacay, so I'm letting them enjoy it.

And thank you Nat for helping me out.

Bliss is a word Andy had often heard. Thought she'd felt. She had been oh so very wrong.

Because she'd never felt a bliss like this.

Miles away from her life, in a small cabin surrounded by trees, her legs tangled in soft white sheets while the open French doors allowed a couple waves of the breeze to cool the sweet sweat that rested on her tanned skin... nestled into Sam Swarek. This was her bliss.

The room smelt like pine, fresh grass, and sweat and although it was nearing noon, it felt like a long day had already passed, and part of her just wanted to drift off to sleep like this.

Sam's hand ran up and down her spine, dipping into the notches and rubbing at her shoulders ever so often. Her fingers worked through the smattering of hair on his chest and often fell to his side - checking one more time if he was ticklish. So far she'd had no success.

"I already told you, I'm not." He said, voice raw because they'd been laying in silence for quite some time, laughing every now and then, but refusing to break the bubble.

"I'll find your spot." Andy said thoughtlessly as she brought her hand back up and traced her finger around his nipple.

"Oh, you've found plenty of my spots already, McNally."

She loved it when he said her name like that, warm and low and drawn out, and she hummed happily, craning her neck to look up at him from where her head was nestled on his shoulder. His mouth was rested in a soft smile, and when he looked down at her when she moved, it grew a little and he bit the inside of his cheek to keep it contained.

"Yeah, you too." She admitted, more than reluctant, because it was the whole truth.

There wasn't a moment that he his mouth was fused to her, any part of her, that didn't work really well or inch her toward the edge. And when he was inside of her, as cheesy as it is, there wasn't a time that she'd ever felt better connected to another person. No one.

And before she could let fear soak in, he'd move and she'd sigh, and that connection would hold until they fell together. To be honest, she could picture a lot of 'togetherness' with him.

"Well that's because I'm awesome."

"Sure. Let's pretend it has nothing to do with years of badge bunnies." She joked, immediately wishing she hadn't.

Because imagining him in a cop bar with women fawning over him made her stomach turn and her inner green monster emerge.

"I resent that." He chuckled, kissing Andy's forehead and putting to bed the monster who was sharpening her claws and bringing Andy back to this moment - this bed.

A gust of wind blew in and since the sweat had long cooled, she shivered, and looked around the floor for the comforter they'd kicked off almost immediately after falling into the bed. She wrapped the sheet around herself a little more and crawled down the bed to its end and reached down for it when Sam tugged at the bit of sheet that was still wrapped around his torso. It sent Andy, uncovered, crashing onto the giant white comforter on the floor, breaking her fall as she yelped and then laughed so hard she snorted.

"You okay?" He asked, clearly not intending to send her falling, but amused since she seemed to be fine.

But she was still laughing, so he moved to end of the bed too, to make sure she was fine. The sight that greeted him, had his face serious in seconds when he saw her hair fanned out and her biting her bottom lip to keep her giggles at bay, and the rest of her languid and tired limbs bent and inviting. Her legs were together and folded, away from him, and her arms were up above her head, twirling her own hair self consciously while he stared.

"I'm good."

He didn't doubt the sincerity. He waited a couple of beats before nodding in agreement and then a mischievous smile took over, and her eyebrows pressed together in a suspicious frown.

"Stay there."

An hour later he was making the bed while she rummaged through the fridge, looking for something for them to eat that would require little preparation. She was still in his tee shirt and track pants and her hair tied messily into a top knot, not bothering to take the time to run a comb through it.

She'd gone three rounds with Sam Swarek in a matter of hours and every time she retrieved something from the fridge and put it on the kitchen island she thought of what had happened not too long ago. Floor boards creaked under Sam's feet as he walked from the bedroom to the kitchen and she wiped the smile of her face so they wouldn't get carried away again. His sweat pants were worn low on his hips and he didn't bother grabbing a fresh shirt, but she wish he had. It would be a miracle if they went outside today.

"Sandwiches okay?" She asked when he walked past her to get a glass of water.

"Oh, very fancy." The playful sarcasm made her shove at his chest half heartedly when he stood next to her and grabbed a piece of pepperoni and popped it into his mouth.

"I'm quite skilled in the kitchen."

A flash of her naked body, splayed atop the island came to mind.

"No arguments here, sweetheart."

She didn't catch the double entendre as she began slicing tomatoes, so Sam just laughed to himself and pushed away, disappearing down the hall for a minute and came back with a sweater on. But he veered toward the living room, going to check their phones that they'd abandoned by the sofa last night. He sat down heavily and put his bare feet on the coffee table, completely at home in Oliver's place.

Andy quite often wondered about his friends and what they were like. What it must be like to have formed a bond in the line of work they do. She'd heard Sam on the phone with his friend Jerry before, calling him brother and the next moment giving him shit for something mundane. Growing up with her dad on the force she'd had various 'Uncles' and what not, but after her dad started slipping, it really weeded out the ones that would back him up no matter what. There weren't too many, but they were the ones who would call her and ask how he's been lately.

She wasn't one to worry too much about her dad before he was a detective. Mostly because part of her believed that everyone trusted and respected the police, that all cops were worthy of it. That he dealt solely with weaponless thieves and helped lost kids find their parents. He made detective when she was starting middle school and just in time for her to notice the real dangers of the world. But that's when her mom left. She had been the one to worry late at night. She had carried that alone. And Andy had often silently taken her dad's side when they fought because he did what he did to help people. Andy thought her mother to be extremely selfish, and she wasn't all wrong.

But now she wondered how she'd feel if she had had to wait up late at night to be sure her husband came home safe.

She wasn't going to pretend she hadn't noticed the scar on Sam's shoulder weeks ago and the way his knee had been stitched up recently. He also had some trouble with his left hand. When he'd been holding something for too long, he'd squeeze and stretch his fingers and roll his wrist around.

But she wasn't like Claire. She'd made promises to herself a long time ago to never be like her. She might fight and yell, but she'd stay. She'd be there in the morning.

She glanced over to Sam again while he typed away on his phone and smiled again, dispelling serious memories and thought about how happy she was.

"Ruth texted." He said, still staring at his phone. "Just wanted to check in and make sure we didn't leave anything behind. You know, asked if we were enjoying ourselves."

She detected the satisfied smirk on his mouth and laughed.

"Yeah, you tell her we had a particularly good morning?" She smiled to herself.

Andy plated the sandwiches and grabbed herself a glass of milk and then balanced it all in her arms on the way to the couch.

"Oh definitely. Ruined her image of you forever." Sam smiled back at her then reached for the plates and set them on the coffee table.

Andy fell down into the low couch next to him and took a sip from her glass.

"Ha ha. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm enough of a deviant already. She has plenty accurate ideas of what's going on here." Andy replied, a little embarrassed.

Sam bit into his sandwich and weighed her words, nodding.

"Yeah I can't imagine I'll ever be as popular with her as I once was." Sam admitted, mouth half full of food.

"Ew. Chew, swallow, then speak." Andy said before taking a bite out of hers too, grateful that they'd taken a food break. She hadn't noticed how hungry she was until she was standing in the kitchen. "She loves you, you're too charming to older ladies to be pushed away. And too stubborn."

"Well that's the one thing we have in common." He winked.

They took a break from discussing it so they could finish their lunch and he couldn't disgust her with talking with his mouth full. And then they abandoned their plates and he laid out on the couch, putting his legs over her lap. Andy rested her arms over them and leaned her head back and just closed her eyes for a moment.

"Maybe we should go for a walk. Take some pictures of the cabin to show Ruth when we get back. She'd like this place." Andy mused, looking at the fairly high ceiling and glancing out the window. "She's such a sucker for houses with decks like this one."

There was one at both the front and the back where the master was. But the one off the bedroom had no stairs to access it. If they hadn't been so caught up this morning, that's where she would have had her morning coffee and flipped through her book. She thought she'd better do the dishes. Sam had other ideas of what they could 'do'.

"She might get the idea to redo her deck if we do. And you know who's going to build it?"

"You?"

"Us. You're still my assistant."

"Partner."

"Assistant."

"Oh come on, that makes me sound like all I do bring you coffee and stand by holding your toolbox." She argued, rolling her head to the side to look at his smirk.

"Fine. Partner."

"Jesus. Be careful, Andy." Sam called after he watched her hurdle a big log that had fallen on the path. They found a trail not too far down the road they drove to the cabin, and figured it wouldn't hurt to follow it for a little while, turn back when they wanted. And Andy took to the fallen debris that hadn't been cleared in maybe decades (judging from the moss that spread over it like a blanket) as thought it were an obstacle course. She'd get a bit ahead and then wait for Sam to catch up, holding his arm while they walked and taking deep breaths of the clean and crisp air.

It was cooler in the afternoon, sun covered by clouds which darkened with every hour. Andy wore a thin sweater and a vest, keeping her track pants from the morning on, and Sam threw on a shirt and jeans , and while he claimed he didn't need another layer, she warned that he'd need a fleece or something. And she'd been right. He checked the thermometer on the deck as they were leaving and it was much cooler than the day before.

"We'll have to check the weekly forecast when we get back. It's probably gonna rain tonight." Sam said, looking up at the sky with a tight mouth and squinted eyes.

"Oh, can we keep the doors open? I love falling asleep to the sound of rain!"

"The bedroom will get damp, and might get a mildew-y smell." He said.

"Okay, Grouch-O."

"McNally, you mean Oscar the grouch. Groucho was one of the Marx Brothers."

"Who?"

"Seriously?" Sam stopped, walking, making her stop to and looked at her with big wide eyes.

"What? Is this something I should know?" She asked after a brief pause, remembering once again that he had nearly a decade on her.

"Vaudeville! They were a famous comedy act."

She sighed relief hearing that.

"Oh come on, it's reasonable that I don't know that. That's before both of our times. Besides, I know the Stooges."

"Oh please, they paved the way for the Three Stooges, they'd be nothing without the Marx Brothers."

Andy rolled her eyes but smiled at him, so genuinely annoyed that she appreciated the Stooges and had never known the Marx Brothers.

Sam softened at her amusement in the tiff and looked up at the darkening sky one more time.

"C'mon let's go back now, we're only twenty minutes away."

"Wait, we need a picture." She said, pulling a camera from her vest pocket and lowering herself onto one knee to take a picture of the pathway lined and obstructed with trees.

He stood by patiently, waiting as she clicked about ten, just to make sure they came out okay, but then she bounced over to him and extended her arm, pointing the camera at the two of them.

Andy couldn't even really believe herself.

She never understood people capturing those kind of private moments. But after the last twenty four hours, she thought it was more the idea of putting them out there publically for everyone to see that made no sense. She wanted to remember this. This feeling, being off and isolated with no one else. Just the two of them. Andy wanted to be able to look through an album one day and recall what this felt like. This kind of 'first time' that had nothing to do with the sex, but feeling this way about anybody at all.

"C'mon McNally, no." He said.

Surprisingly, she didn't snap a picture, but she didn't lower the camera either.

"Instead of several of you talking and frowning, how about you smile and it's one painless picture. Deal?"

It was diplomatic so Sam conceded, shaking his head and then forcing a smile.

She was already smiling next to him but again didn't take the picture, turning to check his face.

"Oh come on that's so fake!" She accused, raising one eyebrow.

"You didn't say it had to be sincere."

"Well it does. Okay?" She asked, not really expecting a reply.

He frowned and she rocked forward onto the balls of her feet and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, but he stuck his hands in her open vest pockets and kept her there, and gave her a proper kiss.

Click.

He didn't move, instead he kept working her lips, having missed them for only an hour or so. But since he'd gotten used to their softness anytime he wanted, up here, an hour seemed a little too long.

She pulled away first, inspecting his mouth with lowered lids, and pulling her lip between her teeth, and he smiled at her.

Click.

She turned his chin with her hand, and leaned her head against his and took another shot.

"There." She said, turning it off and moving to place it back in her pocket, but Sam's hands were still there.

"What say we go back and build a fire, watch a movie or something, and make some dinner." He was quiet, like he was this morning, and she felt her breaths coming in shallower, as she painted a picture of the night beyond that, and nodded happily.

He moved his hands and she zipped the camera up safely, and they walked back the way they came - never figuring out where the trail would take them, but happy enough to stay curious.

It was only a few minutes before they spoke again.

"Next you're going to tell me your not a Leafs fan, and then we're doomed." Andy laughed.

"Actually, I'm a Habs guy."

The evening went as planned. He built them a nice fire and they went through the old VHS's that had piled up at the cabin, sorting the Disney from the more 'grown up' films. They went with Lethal Weapon, only to have Sam gripe the whole time about the lack of realism applied and Andy having to rationalize the few things she could so that he'd just relax.

"It was the 80's, Sam."

"So maybe they'd have been suspended well before now, but they weren't."

It was amusing none the less. And she made them chicken in a peanut sauce and a side of mixed veggies and rice that they ate by the fire while Sam popped in Die Hard.

"You think that's going to be any better?"

"No, but I like being critical. Keeps me sharp." He chuckled, with her, at himself.

As the embers burned and they had long finished their meals, the movie credits rolled and Andy's eyes were ready to close but her mind was still wide awake. Sam had had a steady hand on her side while she laid half atop, half along side of him while they watched, and his hand stroked up and down, warming her and keeping her satiated. They'd taken a few chunks of the movie to make out, lazily, not quite like teenagers, but with some light PG-13 groping. They were both still sore and tired from the morning. And he admitted to liking the surface area of the bed. Gave him more to work with. She'd laughed, claiming they could be inventive.

But now it was time to go to bed, no headaches, nothing stopping them.

And they did leave one of the doors open a crack just as the rain broke and fell from the sky. The room was cold while their bodies burned like well stoked fires. And she came over the precipice, for the first time that night, just as the thunder cracked across the sky.