AN: Gahh, sorry it's taken so ridiculously long, but I've kind of been having trouble with this story lately. I've sort of been losing my inspiration, since it was really only supposed to be a one shot and now here it is chapter 10 lol. But I'll definitely finish it up and try hard to update quicker and hopefully you guys will stick around to the end :)

Andy took her seat at parade between Traci and Chris. She instinctively scanned the room for Sam as she did every morning. Her heart sank as she remembered that she wouldn't be seeing his crooked smile from across the room every morning now. For what must have been the hundredth time she cursed Brennan for existing, cursed Boyd for taking advantage of Sam at a vulnerable time, and she cursed Sam for getting himself caught right in the middle of all of the madness. She had just seen him last night and already, she missed him so much she could scarcely breath.

"Andy, are you okay?" Chris asked her, noticing the way she was practically hyperventilating.

Get it together, she chided herself, you're at work. You'll have plenty of time to break down later, at home.

"I'm fine," she answered, plastering a fake smile on her face and regulating her breathing.

He didn't look like he believed a word, but mercifully Best walked in the room at that moment, ceasing all conversations. Best started talking, preventing Chris from asking another question that she could see was just on the tip of his tongue. He settled for watching her out of the corner of his eye, raising his eyebrows in question. She just smiled back stiffly, pretending to not notice his concern.

She loved Chris for being so worried about her - he was well aware that this was the first day of Sam's op - but she just couldn't talk about this here. Not unless she wanted to break her rule of waiting until she was in the privacy of her own apartment to break down. So, yeah she was smiling, and saying she was fine, because if she allowed the truth to cross her lips there was no way she would be able to hold it together for 9 more hours. She was surprised that she had actually managed to keep up the charade when Sam told her they had much less time than he had originally thought, when he had held for the last time, when he kissed her goodbye..

She heard the front door of her apartment open and close and she knew it was Sam using the key she had given him the other day. Without turning away from the stove she started talking quickly.

"Hey, you're here, good. I was afraid I was going to have to eat all this food myself. Do you think you could set out the wine and wine glasses? I'm almost done with the potatoes. You like scalloped potatoes, right? If you don't I can make..." she trailed off abruptly once she realized that he hadn't spoken a word since entering her apartment.

She turned around slowly, unsure of what she was about to face. Her eyes landed on Sam, still lingering by the doorway, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans and looking nothing like a man about to make the most of the precious little time he had left with his girlfriend. She waited for him to speak, to explain his silence, to explain the look of defeat that seemed as if it were permanently etched into his features. She braced herself for the pain, but thought, what else could he possibly throw at me? Hadn't her worst fear already been realized? But as it turned out fate was about to throw those words right back in her face with an unrelenting cruelty.

"Andy...I have to tell you something. Can we sit down?" he said finally, breaking the stifling silence. He walked over to her, putting his hand on her arm and pushing gently.

"No," she answered, her body becoming rigid. "I don't want to sit down. Just tell me, please, because I'm imagining every worst case scenario right now."

He sighed and ran his hand through his unruly hair. "There's been a bit of a hiccup with my op..."

A hiccup? What did that even mean?

"What do you mean?" she asked slowly, afraid of the answer.

As Sam explained his meeting with Boyd and his informant and the resulting outcome she could feel herself going numb. She knew, of course, that the time was going to come that they would have to say goodbye, but to say she had been steadfastly avoiding that reality would be an understatement. She wasn't mentally prepared for this, not yet. But whether she liked or not, Sam would be leaving in a week. So she had a choice to make; she could continue to be strong and support him, or she could choose now to let go of all the feelings she'd been holding back, the feelings that were now threatening to overwhelm her.

She loved him enough to choose the former.

So she assuaged his fears and told him not to worry about her, that she would miss the hell out of him, but she would be okay.

"You just worry about taking Brennan down as soon as possible so you can come back to me." she said in a tone that she hoped conveyed optimism.

He promised her he would be back as soon as he possibly could. He told how much he was going to miss her, how much he loved her... And later he whispered similar sentiments in her ear as he showed her just how much he loved her.

Chris' voice in her ear snapped Andy back to the present. "Andy, are you coming?"

She looked around to find the room to be completely empty aside from her and Chris. She hurried out before Chris could ask her any questions, but he matched her quick pace stride for stride.

"Uh, Chris, don't you have to go with your riding partner?" she asked, hoping she didn't sound completely rude and ungrateful. Because she was grateful for Chris and his friendship, she just couldn't deal with his well meaning prying right now.

"You are my riding partner," he chuckled. "Were you totally zoned out that whole time?"

"Oh, I guess I was."

Andy waited with baited breath for Chris to bring up their punctuated conversation from earlier. Once they were settled into their patrol car and on the road Chris finally spoke, breaking the silence that had descended upon them.

"So, I'm sensing that you don't want to talk about this, and that's fine. But just know that when or if you do need to talk, I'm here." He nodded after he was finished speaking, as if satisfied that he had said everything he wanted to say.

She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Chris, that really means a lot."

After a small bout of comfortable silence Andy spoke up.

"So, Chris, how have you been? You know, since everything with Gail."

Chris filled her in on everything from his damaged, but on the way to being repaired, friendship with Dov, and his seemingly unsalvageable relationship with Gail. Andy listened intently, glad for the distraction and happy to have her friend back. They had both been a little preoccupied lately with their respective relationship drama.

Sam closed the door of his house and walked resolutely to his truck, adamant to not turn back. There would be no looking back now; only forward.

He drove leisurely to the station, probably breaking records on how long the, customarily 20 minute drive, took him. He finally pulled into the station and drove around to the back. Boyd was leaning against what appeared to be a brand new Escalade, and glancing at his watch with a scowl fixed on his face; he didn't appear to be in the best of moods. Sam showing up late to their meeting probably didn't improve his spirits any.

"What's this?" Sam asked gesturing to the SUV, as he shut the door of his truck.

"Your new ride," Boyd answered, in clipped tones.

He raised his eyebrows and tried not to look too impressed. He knew there was a reason he loved this job.

"Well, it sure screams subtlety. I'll definitely fly under the radar with that." What was he doing? Trying to talk Boyd out of giving him this car? Shit, he needed to give his head a shake.

Boyd scowled.

"Your job isn't to fly under the radar. Your Job is to get in good with Brennan and earn his trust. We need him to believe that you're actually good at what you do." He rapped his knuckles on the hood of the car.

Sam just raised his eyebrows in response. He wasn't about to admit out loud that Boyd was right.

Boyd produced a manila envelope seemingly out of nowhere and began pulling things out of it.

"Here are your keys," he said, tossing them unceremoniously in Sam's direction. "Your license, and your phone. Which nobody aside from me should have the number for." He glared at Sam meaningfully.

He rolled his eyes. "I know that. I've done this once or twice, remember?"

"Yeah, well your circumstances were different back then." he replied, not so subtly referring to Andy.

"I'm not stupid. I may not want to be here, but I know what it takes to get the job done and that's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Glad to hear it." he said, with no trace of sarcasm. Was it just Sam's imagination or were they flagging a truce?

"Well, I should get going." He stuffed the phone and license in his pocket and unlocked the Escalade.

He was opening the door when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, he spun around.

"Good luck, Swarek." Boyd stated sincerely.

Hmm, truce indeed.

"Thanks,"

He jumped into the car and sped out of the parking lot; again fighting the automatic impulse to take one last glance at the life he was leaving behind.

As he drove to his new apartment he let his mind drift to the previous evening; his last with Andy.

No matter how hard she tried to mask her emotions, he could read her like a book. He hated the defeated look on her face, especially because he was the one to put it there. She was without a doubt holding it together better than he had expected, but he could tell that it was definitely going to take it's emotional toll on her.

Boyd had been right about one thing though; his circumstances were undeniably different this time around. In his past undercover work he had been unrestrained, there were no relationships to distract him from the job at hand and as a result he was focused, and he was one of the best undercover officers to come through 15th division. He certainly didn't mind the prestige of being so highly touted by his superiors.

But those were different times, things had changed. While he still loved undercover work, there was something he found he loved more; Andy. He wasn't lying when he said he would give this all up for her if he could. He would, in a heartbeat.

Sam pulled into the parking spot smoothly, loving the handle of the vehicle. He grabbed his bag from the back seat and made his way to his new fifth floor studio apartment. He turned the key in the lock and swung the door open. He stepped inside and surveyed the room quickly.

Not too bad.

He unclenched his fingers and flicked his wrist. The duffel bag landed with a soft thud next to the bed; hisbed now. He sat down on edge of the bed, testing the firmness of the mattress. Sam was very particular about his mattresses.

He let the upper half of his body fall onto the bed and clasped his hands together behind his head. The mattress was decent, not great, but it would do. After his assessment of the mattress was complete Sam's eyes focused on the rusty red color of the ceiling and walls.

Red paint, he thought vaguely, I never would have picked that color in a million years but it works somehow.

He stared up at the ceiling assessing the color of the paint as he laid in the bed that was now his, with the mattress that lacked firmness and he knew what he was doing.

He knew he was just distracting himself from thinking about this operation and the potential danger, and he was definitely distracting himself from thinking about what it would do to Andy if, God forbid, anything did go wrong.

But he couldn't let any of that take up any space in his already crowded brain, not anymore. Because if this was going to work, and he was going to go safely home when it was all over, he had to completely become this character, this JD. And JD didn't know Andy McNally. All JD knew, all JD cared about was making that deal and getting that cut.

He'd been around the block a few times in Guns and Gangs and he knew that anything less than total commitment to the character from day one was damn near suicidal. So he pushed away thoughts of Andy McNally, thoughts of Donovan Boyd, and thoughts of Sam Swarek. Not without difficulty though, not without the utmost difficulty.

At that moment Sam Swarek ceased to exist, and JD emerged.