Chapter 6: Fallout

"Andy! Oh my God, are you okay?" Traci's voice was high pitched with worry.

Andy's anger abated slightly in the wake of a wave of guilt. She hadn't even thought to call Traci. She shook her head in disapproval at her own inaction. "I'm sorry I didn't call you last night, it's-"

"Don't worry about it." Traci cut her off mid-excuse. "You're taking some time off, right?"

Andy sighed. She knew it had been optimistic and maybe a little naive to hope that everyone at fifteen wouldn't already know about the fire and her 'time off,' but she was still disappointed. "Frank's orders." She answered sullenly.

She could almost hear Traci rolling her eyes. "Andy, your house burned down yesterday. You are going to need a few days to sort out the insurance and start replacing the essentials. This isn't a punishment, it's a gift."

"I guess." Andy didn't really agree, but clearly Traci didn't know the whole story and Andy wasn't about to get into it over the phone when she couldn't see Traci's expressions or know who else might overhear. The fewer people who knew she was a suspect in an arson, the better.

"Where are you staying?" Traci asked, changing to a more neutral topic. "If you need a place, my bed has room for one more." She said it in a teasing tone, but Andy could hear the loneliness in Traci's voice. The wound from Jerry's death was clearly going to take more than six months to heal. "Or I can make Leo share with me and you can have his room."

"Thanks," Andy said, meaning it, "but Sam has a spare room and he's letting me stay until I find a place." At least, she hoped so. She realized as the words came out of her mouth that they hadn't even managed to talk about that tiny detail the night before. She'd been so worried with where they stood and if they could get back to where they were before Jerry died and life went to hell in a hand basket that she hadn't bothered to ask if the spare room was hers for more than just that night.

"Are you two...?" Traci's voice was eager.

"We haven't had a chance to talk about it." Andy answered honestly. She'd never told Traci the real story of what happened when Sam and she broke up, she'd stuck to a vague idea of Sam shutting himself off rather than tell Traci that Sam blamed Andy for Jerry's death. She didn't want to pile onto Traci's grief, and, what she was half afraid to admit to herself, she didn't want to give Traci a reason to blame her too.

"But you want to."

"I don't know." She loved him, she was pretty sure that even after all this time apart, that hadn't changed. But she wasn't sure she trusted him anymore. Not when it came to this. If they were going to work he couldn't walk out of her every time something awful happened. They were cops, the sad reality was that Jerry would probably not be the last friend they lost on the job. If it happened again she needed to know Sam would be there for her, that they could grieve together. Not, she thought regretfully, that she had really been there for him with Jerry. It had been too shocking, to horrible. Her brain couldn't accept it, let alone help Sam, who always seemed so strong and unshakable. By the time she had processed it enough to have a prayer of helping Sam, he was gone. She'd tried then, calling every day, sometimes more than once, but he had shut her out completely. Deep down, she wondered if that was her fault too, and it nearly killed her. She couldn't go through that again. Even if Sam loved her - which she hoped he did, but with Sam it was impossible to tell - maybe they just weren't meant to be.

"Look, I have to get back to work and I'm sure you have a million phone calls to make to get things going with your insurance." Traci said, "I'm off tomorrow, why don't we hit the mall and get you a replacement wardrobe?"

"Sure. Thanks Trace." Andy hung up the phone and sat staring at it for several minutes. She'd called Traci intending to beg a ride to the station so she could give Jo a piece of her mind, but the talk had calmed her down and she realized Traci was right, she had a lot of things to take care of if she ever wanted to move back into a place of her own. A part of her heart hoped by the time it was all sorted out she wouldn't need one, but she knew if she wanted to make things work with Sam, or with anyone, she needed to get her own life sorted first.

Sam's laptop was sitting at the kitchen table, she flipped it open and punched the name of her insurance company into the search bar. First, condo, then love life.

The day could not be going more slowly. For once, being on the streets was the last thing Sam wanted to be doing. He'd half hoped to be assigned to Rosati's case so he could find a way to clear Andy's name, but this was reality, not some fairy tale. If he wanted to be the white knight in shining armor aboard a white charger, he would need to do a little grunt work first. To make matters worse, Frank paired him with Gail. Not that Sam had anything against the blonde, he just didn't need the reminder of all the things he hadn't yet told Andy. The things he was most worried she wouldn't be able to forget, or forgive.

"You're quiet today," Gail observed, giving him a penetrating look from the passenger seat as he idled at a red light. She and Sam had been working together quite a bit with Nick and Andy both gone. She would even say they had become friends, but she wasn't sure he would go that far, and that made asking the questions burning in her mind awkward and possibly super inappropriate. So, instead, she stuck to somewhat clichéd hints in hopes he would tell her what the hell was going on with Andy.

She had expected Andy to be there this morning, everyone had. Although, having a fire at your building was traumatic. Still, as far as Gail knew, Andy was the type who dealt with trauma by throwing herself into work not taking a leave. She probably could have asked Nick, after all he'd been paired with the brunette for the last five months, but that would require speaking to him, and she wasn't quite ready to do that yet. She still couldn't quite believe he'd shown up on her doorstep at two in the afternoon after a five month absence and just expected things to get back to normal. Was he insane?

"Long day," Sam said in his typically brief and unhelpful way.

Gail shot him an exasperated look, but she wasn't sure he even saw it. The light had turned green and Sam was using that as an excuse to focus all his energy on the road. "How's Andy?"

Sam turned briefly to give Gail a look that clearly said he didn't want to talk about it before grunting. "She's fine," and turning once again to the road before them.

It was a quiet day. The April afternoon was sunny and bright and it seemed like every driver in Toronto was sticking to the speed limit, signaling their turns, and watching for hazards. Girls on the sidewalk were trotting out their sun dresses even though it was still a few degrees too cool for them and everyone seemed to be happy and carefree - everyone, that is, but Sam.

"Does she need anything?" Gail prodded. She didn't know what was wrong with her today. Normally she was more than happy to let people keep everything bottled up. Emotions were messy and ugly and often painful. She really could do without them altogether. Or so she tried to tell herself. If she were brutally honest, something she tried to avoid being these days, she would admit that part of her desire to know what was going on with Sam and Andy was a selfish desire to know if anything happened between Andy and Nick during their time undercover.

Gail knew better than anyone that Nick could probably charm the pants off a Royal Guard at Buckingham Palace if he set his mind to it - an emotionally vulnerable woman his own age would be a piece of cake. She wanted to believe he would be faithful to her, no matter what temptations lay before him, but the fact that he'd left without even a goodbye was not encouraging. It didn't help that they had never defined what they were - her choice - or set any rules - his. If they weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, she didn't even really have a leg to stand on when it came to being upset at his leaving. Although, even as friends with benefits, a heads up would have been nice. Maybe then she wouldn't have done what she had.

A sidelong glance at Sam told her he was still pretending he hadn't heard her and that the traffic out the front windshield required every iota of his concentration. Probably for the best as she could feel a hot flame of embarrassment burning in her cheeks. They were friends, sort of, she should never have let it get that far. Sure when she'd been a rookie she'd thought he was completely fuckable, his obvious pining after Andy be damned, but she thought she'd come a long way since then. Apparently, not far enough. Of all the night she could have been black out drunk instead of just drunk enough to do something incredibly stupid. Why hadn't she taken just three more shots of tequila? That definitely would have pushed her over the edge and maybe even into a drunken slumber before she'd managed to do anything. "I won't say anything," Gail said, turning her face away so Sam wouldn't see the pink of her cheeks.

Sam was silent for a long while but when Gail dared to turn her head to look at him again, he met her eyes and gave her a crooked smile. "Thanks."

"You know, we didn't do anything wrong." She said, feeling a sudden need to reassure both herself and him that they weren't the horrible people she sometimes very much feared she was.

"No."

It wasn't quite a question, but Gail answered anyway. "No. They left, we were lonely and drunk, these things happen."

"Is that what you told Nick?"

She winced a little. It was a fair question, but not one she wanted to answer, although she supposed the fact that she hadn't even known Nick was back until he walked into parade this morning might have been something of an excuse. As if she needed an excuse. There were some things no one needed to know. "No." She admitted. She'd told herself she would tell him tonight, at least, she would tell him what she thought he needed to know. That is if he bothers to show, she added bitterly inside her head. After five months without so much as an email she had no idea if Nick was even interested anymore, or if this was Vegas all over again.