Wow, I really needed some time to recover from that last episode. Very tragic but I thought it was beautifully done. Luckily there are a lot of great writers here that felt inspired by it, so that's a definite plus!

But anyway, here's my new chapter, hope you enjoy it!

Andy was covertly observing her target while she poked around in her food. If anyone would dare to call this food, that was. Maybe she should start with a collection or something at the precinct when she got back; surely her colleagues wouldn't mind helping out, once they knew how bad it was here.

Carly sat next to her, chatting away. Andy was still astonished about the trust of the girl. Within a few hours, she was treating Andy like a best friend. How long could a lonely young trusting girl survive in a place like this? Andy was already making plans for when she got back. Maybe she could help Carly find some purpose, some chance of a future; she seemed like such a nice girl. Would she let her help? Could she make a difference for her?

Or Carly would never talk to her again once she found out she had been lied to. That was a definite possibility she had to consider.

Andy turned to Carly, and cut her off. No time to be polite if work calls. "Do you want some coffee or tea?"

Carly swallowed the rest of her sentence. "Nope, thanks."

Making her way across the room to the coffee machine, Andy tried to give herself a stern pep talk. You can do this. Remember what they said. Don't approach her, let her come to you. If you are too eager, she won't believe or trust you. Act normal, not interested in anything but a steaming cup of coffee.

She took her position next to the coffee cups, a short distance from the woman she hoped to be spoken to by.

She was unmistakably attractive, but looked unapproachable. Her whole appearance was threatening, the harsh lines of her face only accentuated by the curves of her body. This was surely a woman who could fight. Andy did not have to look at her to see her; she knew the face from memory from the pictures in her file.

Maria Kretser. 28 Years old, above average height, hazel eyes. She was blonde, but hadn't been born that way. Originally from Raleigh, North Carolina. Ran away from home when she was just 14 years old, wandered around filling her rap sheet while living on the streets on different cities, until finally settling in Toronto. She had been arrested for panhandling and pick-pocketing, along with a few counts of prostitution and drug possession. Here, she had ventured into the more serious crimes, one of the reasons why Andy had to make contact with her first. She was her way to the next step.

"Hey new girl, pass me a cup." Andy dared to look up, only to find a blank stare going right through her, so she simply did as she was asked. Kretser grabbed the cup from her, and turned away without as much of a nod or a simple thank you, so Andy filled her own cup and returned to her seat.

Carly was almost bursting to finish her story about a concert she had attended a few weeks back; from some underground grunge band she was sure that would reach the top. She had found a purse with a ticket inside, she said, but Andy figured that probably meant she had stolen the purse.

Without having to look, she knew she was being watched. Kretser had rejoined her friends in the corner of the large room, where they talked in hushed tones while checking her out.

She had been briefed about this. Her handler had spent hours filling her in on the way this would go. She would be checked out, and tested. They didn't get this far in building their organization by not being cautious.

If and when they deemed her appropriate, she would be brought in, and only then could her work really start. This was not something she could rush, so she had to be patient until that moment came.

Why had they chosen her again? Patience was not one of her virtues; one only had to ask her training officer that. On the other hand, he would undoubtedly comment that this would be a good teaching moment for her.

Thinking about Sam made her heart ache. What was she, a teenager? She was barely gone from him longer than when they had a long shift, but she already missed him terribly. They were still so new together, she hadn't fully realized she wasn't ready to be away from him yet until now.

Was Sam thinking about her as well? Did he miss her? He had said he would, but were those just words? Did he mean it? Maybe he was glad to be rid of her. Now he could finally play poker with his friends again, or stay late at the Penny without being bothered to go home with her.

No, it was not his style to lie about those things. If he said he would miss her, he meant it. Why else say it? It was not like Sam to talk about his feelings, so when he did it had to mean something.

At least, that was what she thought. But what did she really know about Sam? She knew almost nothing about his past or family life, just snippets of information he had given her through the years.

There was something there, something bad, that she knew. Now she was just waiting for him to come forward with what it was, if he ever would.

She had told Sam almost everything about her. He knew her worst; the alcoholism of her father, the abandonment of her mother, but he had not given much in return.

Not that he had to spill everything at once, but it would be nice to hear something more about what made him who he was; the man she loved.

But that was almost certainly another instance where she could do with some more patience.

Carly, on the other hand, was the total opposite of Sam. Funny, Andy knew more about her past in one day than she found out about Sam in the last few years.

Carly poked her and whispered in her ear. "She's watching you."

Andy peeped around the table in feigned ignorance. "Who?"

"The big blonde in the corner, there. Jinx. She's a mean one, you know."

Jinx, also known as Maria Kretser. But Leila wasn't supposed to know that, of course.

"Why do you say that?"

"She's so bossy, and she thinks she's all that. Like wouldn't even say hello to me. She's always with those girls, watching me. And now she's staring at you, too."

Andy just nodded and took a sip of her coffee, deciding against another bite of the mush that was on her plate.

She's doing exactly what I want her to. And if you're smart you won't follow my lead and stay far away from her.

"Sammy, you joining us for a drink tonight?" Oliver was dissecting his sandwich, skillfully removing the pickle. Their shift had been long and repetitive; nothing to keep Sam's mind occupied today, except his growing worry about Andy.

"Not today, buddy. Got some stuff to take care off." Actually, he was going for a drink, just not at the Penny. And not to socialize either.

"You sure? I thought your girl being away for a while meant you finally have some more time to spend with your friends, not less."

Oliver was right, he had been neglecting his friends a bit these past few weeks.

But he was still making up for all the times he had spent alone, watching Andy and wishing she would come to her senses and dump Callaghan, and stop planning every day of her life. Now that he could, he wanted to hold her close and enjoy her company as much as he could.

Was he too mushy, choosing her over poker night with his friends? It wasn't like he was never going to play again; he had just not wanted to leave her just yet.

And now she was gone for at least a couple of days, and he used up every hour of his spare time chasing leads on the case she was working on, trying to make sure she would come back to him in one piece.

He threw Oliver a guilt-ridden look. Now he remembered why he had forsaken starting a serious relationship for so long. Who could balance police work, friends, family and a relationship without letting one slip?

"What do you say to poker night, my place next Wednesday?"

Oliver answered with his mouth full of a huge bite from his sandwich.

"Don't you have to ask McNally for permission first?"

Sam slapped his friends back before making his retreat. "Wednesday, don't forget to bring beers."

He got out of the station as quick as he could, and drove his truck in the opposite direction of the Penny. He was on his way to a different bar, one who was frequented by another group of coppers.

Sam knew or had heard of most of the names on the list Noelle had given him, though superficially.

None of them stuck out to him from his previous work at Guns and Gangs.

After checking the names against Tommy McNally and finding no evidence of them working with him either, he still was none the wiser about their interest in McNally. It just made no sense to him.

Why choose an inexperienced rookie without consulting one of her training officers or even her staff sergeant?

This bar was not that different from the Penny or any other cop bar he'd been to, he noticed as he entered. Dartboard in the corner, headshots of memorable cops on the wall, no fancy drinks that some of the trendy city bars offered.

And logically a lot of cops, just coming of shift, enjoying a drink and spilling about their day to the only people who could ever fully understand.

Sam walked directly to the bar and ordered a beer, and scanned the room from his barstool. It wasn't long until he spotted the one who had his interest the most, detective Donaldson, standing behind a pillar with a whiskey in hand.

Now what? He hadn't really thought out the plan this far. He had his target, the lead on Andy's case. How would he best go about getting the information he came for? Just go up there and initiate a conversation would be the most obvious choice, but would it be effective? There was no reason the detective would tell him anything at all.

"As I live and breathe, Sam Swarek. I'd say pinch me but I don't want to wake up."

Sam turned towards the sensual voice besides him. "Joan?"

Joan, she had always been Joan. She had no love for her last name, and had broken the regular style of the police force by not using it.

Without hesitation, she gave him a hearty hug. That had always been her style: flirty, personal, but at the same time very professional with a strict no-dating-cops policy. She had been his training officer for a little while, and he had known her to be tough as a doornail.

"Firm body, nice to see you're keeping up your physique! How about you buy me a drink and explain to me exactly what brings you here."

Joan was up to speed two drinks later, there was still nothing wrong with her interrogation technique. Regular checks by Sam had confirmed that Donaldson was still sipping his drinks while the voices of him and his comrades got louder and louder.

"Honey, I don't think that's such a good idea. I don't think he's gonna talk to you. You see, Donaldson is not in the Swarek camp."

Swarek camp? What did she mean by that? Sam raised his brows to show his confusion.

"You mean you don't know?" Joan shook her head and lowered her voice.

"Donaldson is what we call a Boyder. After the whole Brennan fiasco, most of us just want it to be over, for him to pay for what he did to the good name of the force. Some, like your guy over there, think Boyd was god's gift to the police and they blame the officers who uncovered his cover-up of the death of Brennan's wife and child, for kicking him off the force. And you happen to be on the top of that list, along with your girl."

Sam took a large gulp of his drink while Joan continued to explain, to allow him to process this news. Boyd? They blamed him for Boyd? He wasn't even there when they uncovered the whole thing; he was busy being tortured by Jamie Brennan.

And why in the world would Donaldson pick Andy for his operation, when he blamed her so much for telling the truth about Boyd? If all this looked suspicious before, now he really knew something was off. Was this some kind of elaborate try at vengeance? He had to get Andy out of there, wherever there was.

But first, he had to visit an old friend, one he had sworn to never talk to again. He had to go see Donovan Boyd.