Disclaimer: I don't own Rookie Blue or any of the characters.
"You told him you were fine with it?" Traci eyed Andy dubiously as if Andy was fabricating the story.
"Yeah, so?" Andy answered defensively. She watched the barista impatiently as he made her drink. She needed something to distract her, and right now that distraction was a skim milk, no-fat latte.
"So, that couldn't possibly be what you were really thinking." Traci stated as a matter of factly.
Damn Traci and her bluntness, it made it so hard to pretend, to hold on to something she desperately wanted and needed to be true.
The barista finally handed Andy her drink and she took it from him gratefully. They found a table near the back and Andy reluctantly looked across the table at Traci who was still eyeing her expectantly, waiting for a response.
Andy shrugged in acquiescence. It would be a futile effort trying to lie; Traci could see right through her. "You didn't see the look in his eyes, like he was letting me down in some unforgivable way. I just- I couldn't-. I think I wanted so badly to be strong for him that I almost convinced myself that I would be okay."
Traci shook her head sympathetically. "Oh Andy…you have to tell him."
Andy shook her head adamantly. "No, I can't. Maybe I wasn't completely honest with him - or myself for that matter, but it's for the best. When he's undercover, I need every ounce of his focus on the job at hand. I can't have him worrying about me. So what if I have to pretend that it's not going to be complete hell every minute he's gone? If that's the sacrifice I have to make to ensure that he comes back safe then I'll do it; I'll do it every time."
Traci sighed, "I think you should tell him, he would want to know, but it's your decision." Traci reached across the table, placing her hands over Andy's. "You know I'm here if you ever need anything while he's gone, right?"
She nodded, "Thanks Trace. God, I can't believe he told me he was going undercover and I jumped him." She laughed in embarrassment.
"Well that bit of craziness balances out the maturity. I'm sure he wouldn't have even recognized you if you kept acting rational and whatnot."
"Hey, I can be rational." Andy complained, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance.
Traci laughed, "Not when it comes to Sam."
Andy didn't answer, there was no point trying to refute that fact.
"Thanks for talking to me about this Trace. I swear, you'll be the one to keep me sane throughout all this." Andy took another sip of her latte, cupping her hands around the hot mug to warm up her perpetually cold hands.
"Glad to help."
Traci laughed suddenly, a reminiscent look in her eyes. "Guess what Leo did this morning."
Andy listened intently and laughed along with her as Traci regaled her with stories of Leo's latest escapades.
"So she says chivalry's dead and then takes the cheque right out of my hand. Do you believe that?" Epstein rambled on, clearly not expecting an answer. "What has the world come to that a man can't even buy his girlfriend dinner? I tell you it's these independent career women. Which is all well and good and something I'm all for." Dov added with his hand raised, as if Sam was going to report this conversation back to Sue, whom he didn't even know.
"But it's like they're trying to assert their independence all over our masculinity." He said 'our' as if Sam was somehow included in this conspiracy that Epstein had concocted in his head.
Sam pressed his fingers to his temple, trying to tune out Epstein's incessant chatter. He took his eyes off of the road for second to glare at him, hoping he would take the hint and shut up. But who was Sam kidding, this was Epstein, the guy never shuts up.
"Epstein, radio in to see if there's anything, anything at all, going on." Sam cut him off mid rant, too annoyed, tired, and bored to senseless to care about the unnecessary rudeness to one of Andy's friends.
"Sure," Epstein answered, seeming thoroughly unfazed by the interruption.
Just as Dov was reaching for it, the radio crackled to life.
"1508, we have a domestic disturbance at 5625 Mt. Pleasant Road."
Sam groaned - he just had to go and jinx it. Now they had to go play mediator to Mr. and Mrs. Real Estate developer or Investment Manager or whatever the hell it was that they did for a living that landed them in one of wealthiest neighborhoods in the country. More often than not these calls ended up being disputes about how to spend their bonuses, and Sam had to, politely as he could manage, inform them that that was not in their job description as police officers.
Minutes later they pulled up to the gated driveway which promptly swung inward allowing them entrance. When they rounded the circular driveway to the front door they found a woman wearing, in Sam's opinion, ridiculously high heels and a short dress that indicated she was under the impression that she was much younger than she actually was. She frantically hailed them down as if they would miss the monstrosity of a house.
They stepped out of the car and she was upon them. Her eyes were red, her makeup smudged, she'd clearly been crying.
"It's about time you got here!" she cried, grabbing Dov by the arm and dragging him towards the door.
Sam's phone rang and he signaled to Epstein that he had to take the call. He watched the woman haul Epstein into the house and resisted the urge to laugh at the panic stricken look on Dov's face.
"Swarek," Sam said shortly after he pressed talk.
"Where are you?" Boyd asked, skipping right to the point.
"Rosedale for a domestic disturbance." Sam answered, the contempt obvious in his voice.
Boyd laughed unsympathetically. "See, aren't you glad you'll be done with pointless shit like that soon?"
"Did you need something?"
"Yes, yes I did. I'm meeting my rat in a half hour and you need to be there."
"Where?"
After Boyd had given him the details he hung up his phone and rejoined Epstein in the foyer.
"Ma'am, you need to calm down and tell me what happened."
"My husband, bastard, he took - took my Molly!" the woman got out between hysterics.
"Molly - is that your daughter?" Sam asked, stepping in.
"No!" she shrieked. "My dog!"
It was only due to many years of experience that Sam managed not to roll his eyes.
"I'm sorry, we don't deal with pet, uh," Epstein snickered quietly. "..kidnappings."
The woman turned on Dov, incensed. "You have the gall to laugh at me? Why, you're nothing but a child! You know nothing of life or loss."
Dov schooled his expression. "Sorry, ma'am, I just meant to say that there are no legal parameters for a situation such as this."
"Well, if you're not going to do anything then kindly remove yourself from my home." she huffed.
With pleasure, Sam thought.
"Sorry we couldn't help." Sam offered on their way out in an attempt to placate her. She didn't answer, only closed the door firmly behind them.
Epstein waited until the gate had closed behind them before he burst out laughing. "Dog kidnapping, oh man, that's gotta be a first."
Sam chuckled, not bothering to rebuke Epstein for his earlier unprofessionalism. "Sadly it's not,"
"Really?" Dov asked, interested.
Sam drove back to the station and filled Dov in on some of the more outrageous calls he had received over the years and he thought; the guy's not such bad company when he's not talking.
"Epstein, I've got an errand to run. I'm sure you can find some paperwork to fill out to make yourself useful while I'm gone." Sam said as he pulled up to 15.
Epstein grumbled under his breath as he and Sam parted ways but otherwise didn't say anything. Sam changed out of his uniform and lifted up his shirt, tucking his gun under the waistband of his jeans. He slammed his locker shut and walked to his truck and then made his way to a part of the city that he'd only ever been to while on duty. Sam pulled up to the address Boyd had given him and parked behind the abandoned building as he had instructed.
He got out of his truck and looked around warily, not seeing Boyd by the back door where he said they should meet. He dug his hands deep into the pockets of his leather jacket and walked on. He rounded the corner of the building to find Boyd immersed in a heated conversation with someone who Sam presumed to be his informant.
"What's going on?" Sam asked as he approached, quite sure he wasn't going to like the answer to that question.
"Boychuk here was just asking me if I could slap another year onto his sentence."
Boychuk glared back at Boyd, unimpressed by his threat. "I'm not about to die for your fucking operation."
"What's he talking about?" Sam asked Boyd, growing increasingly uneasy as the situation progressed.
"Nothing, it's just a little snag."
Boychuk snorted in derision. "Hautaway is dead, you call that a snag? I heard it was because he fucked up a deal. You think Brennan's gonna have any sympathy on me when he finds out I've been talking to the police!" His voice rose in desperation, the fear evident.
"Don't play the victim card with me, I'm not buying it. You knew the risks, you wanted time off your sentence and I wanted an in with Boyd. It was mutually beneficial; don't act like you did me any favors." Boyd refuted, equally unimpressed.
"Well, you know what Donovan, it no longer benefits me. So, arrest me if you want, my tombstone is not going to read 'Here lies Chad Boychuk, Boyd's little bitch'. If your guy wants in, this is it, last chance."
One of Brennan's guys was dead? Well this seriously fucks things up. Sam regretted now, more than ever, getting tangled up in this mess. He definitely didn't like the sounds of Boychuk's last sentence.
"Last chance?"
"Yeah, I'll get you in for this week and then after that I'm done. I'm not gonna be in the middle of this shit anymore."
Sam turned to Boyd, deciding to let him fight this battle. This was his guy, if anyone was going to change his mind it would be Boyd.
Boyd seemed to be contemplating the right words, but the words he came up with were the last thing Sam expected.
"Fine this week, we'll be in touch." With those words he walked away and Sam was stunned into silence and immobilization for a second.
He registered Boyd's footsteps getting further away and he quickly snapped out of it and turned to follow him. When he caught up to Boyd he grabbed him by the shoulder and spun him around to face him.
"What the fuck was that?" Sam hissed, as loudly as he dared. "You said I had weeks!"
Boyd grinned, a smile devoid of humor. "Plans change, JD."