As Sam makes his way back towards the detective's office, he remains stuck in a slight daze. He knew he had been unprepared to see McNally again. Probably wouldn't have been prepared if he had had a one month warning verses one hour. But he hadn't known until he had actually set eyes on her once again just how unready he had been. Still was.
Still is.
While he thinks back to the five seconds of sizzling, tension filled eye contact they had shared in Parade, he shudders, a long skitter of nerves down his spine.
The ball of memories and lingering anger from her abandonment shakes and trembles, chips of carefully constructed walls beginning to fall away.
("why are you doing this?" a quiet whisper, filled with heartbreak, soft words carrying like thunderclaps in the space between them, feet that feel like miles)
A page over the division intercom breaks Sam out of his dark thoughts, leaving him with a bad taste in his mouth and fists clenched at his side. Moving perpendicular to him is the woman currently holding his attention; Andy is halfway towards the equipment room, side by side with another officer that Sam doesn't recognize.
In a split second decision, he moves to intercept.
"McNally!" he calls as he strides in front of her, the name feeling strange when it finally falls from his lips for the first time in so long.
For a second, her features flicker with panic, before it shutters down, sealing away any trace of emotion. She stops smartly, crossing her arms across her chest and quirking a brow as she waits for him to speak.
In the face of her, close enough that he could touch and prove he isn't dreaming, Sam suddenly finds his tongue frozen. All the words he wants to say, words that he hasn't had a chance to release and have built up over years, tangle in his throat, sticking firm and leaving him speechless. The only sound that does emerge is a small, strangled huff.
His fingers flicker his side, itching, twitching to reach out and touch her.
Sam doesn't know what she sees on his face, but it's enough that Andy's brow furrows slightly, head tilting as she studies him.
The awkward silence is thankfully snapped by the second officer hovering just over McNally's shoulder; he leans in and Sam catches sight of his name tag. Collins, it reads in simple white text and it clicks then that this must be the second rookie who came from the military. Collins murmurs something into Andy's ear, something Sam strains to catch, that sounds vaguely like, "you good Cruiser?" While Sam tries to decipher if that's actually what was said, Andy responds, not once looking away from Sam.
"Yeah, I'm good."
With a small nod, Collins moves past Andy and into the equipment room, giving Sam a raking once over as he walks by. Sam won't admit it, not even to himself, but he shifts slightly under the weight of the scrutiny.
Left alone in their small section of hallway, Andy finally speaks to him directly. "Can I help you with something Detective?" she asks, way to primly for Sam's taste. It's enough to shake loose the vice around his throat.
"What are you doing here?" comes out like marbles over gravel, thick and heavy.
Appearing unflappable, McNally answers dryly, "well, I'm currently on shift as a police officer and this is where I work."
A very real growl rumbles in Sam's chest, anger a match flare, instant ignition.
"Don't be glib," he snarls, crowding into her space, anger growing when the only reaction he garners is a lifted eyebrow.
"But it's so much fun!" she retorts, lilt accenting the words with false enthusiasm.
"Give me a straight answer Andy, I swear to God," Sam growls. "I'm not in the mood."
A flicker of something rewards him, a sign that she isn't as unfazed as she seems and a darkness in Sam takes it as a victory. "Five years is a long time Detective Swarek," she says finally, for the first time addressing their connection. "People change. Their life changes. They may even end up at the same division their father once worked at, not aware that other connections were still here."
Each word is chosen carefully, thick with subtext.
She hadn't known he would be at this division. She thought that he wouldn't be here.
(she had been right too; the first bit of time here, Sam Swarek wasn't mentioned, a ghost that she figured had moved to 27 or left the force completely, or even gotten killed; and then he came back)
"McNally! Let's go!"
Both of them startle, the sudden shout from Noelle shattering the bubble around them. Crystal shards of possibility lay at their feet, a pivotal moment ripped away and they both feel the cold swirl through the space between them. As Sam whirls toward the sound, Andy steps around him and hurries down the hallway, grabbing the escape as it appears.
"Sammy!" Noelle calls, giving Andy an impatient side-eye as the young woman rushes past, but returning her focus to Sam with a grin. "See you at the Penny tonight?" she asks.
Still jittery with the sudden rush of adrenaline and emotional overload of Andrea McNally, Sam can only nod.
"Good," his friend states, concern flickering over her features as she takes him, but a sound from the sally port distracts her and she's gone.
Left alone, the buzz of the barn pressing in around him, Sam takes a deep, shuddering breath and lets it out slowly.
That had not gone well.
Not at all.
Sighing, Sam scrapes a hand down his face, pressing back the prickles in his eyes and heads back to the Detectives office, feeling very much like a kicked dog with his tail between his legs. Keeping his head down, he does his best to avoid any other officers, weaving through the bullpen desks with ease, before making his way up the steps at a half run. He wants the safety of his desk and the work there that he can bury himself in.
Ignoring the concerned looks aimed his way by Jerry, Sam slides into his chair and leans back, closing his eyes and letting out a heavy breath.
"So," Jerry starts. "I'm guessing that didn't go well."
Sam opens one eye to glare at his friend across the space between their desks. The homicide detective has the decency to look apologetic, but he doesn't look away, clearly waiting for a response.
It's a war within trying to decide what to say. "It's like she's a different person. I didn't even recognize her," he admits.
More pieces of his shell fall away and the sympathy in Jerry's eyes nearly drives him over the edge.
In a split second decision, Sam is back out of his chair and moving towards the exit. "If Jo is looking for me, tell her I needed to catch up with some CI's. She'll probably buy it," he calls over his shoulder.
(the, I can't be here right now, goes unspoken)
"You got it brother," Jerry calls. "Sign out 1574, I don't think anyone's assigned to it today," he adds and Sam waves a hand in thanks.
.
As Sam busies himself with signing out 1574 in order to avoid his swirling thoughts, Andy is busy trying to battle her emotions back into their box. Leaned heavily against the wall just outside the sally port, she can't help but be grateful Noelle has already gone to their cruiser. She needs a minute.
(maybe seven hundred)
Breathing through her teeth, slow and even, she ignores the part of her that wants nothing more than to go back around that corner. Go back to Sam.
But she can't; not if they're both working out of this division. Andy simply can't open herself up to that vulnerability once again, not after she's worked so hard at crafting her shield and this version of Andrea McNally.
Dropping her head back against the wall and closing her eyes, Andy imagines the voice of her base camp commander. Steady up soldier! sizzles through her brain like lightning and her spine immediately straightens instinctively. A smile forms against her will and some of the tension in her shoulders dissipates. With a new flood of strength, she carefully crams every emotion and memory tangled with Sam Swarek back into the metal box in her mind, slamming the lid shut and locking it tight, pointedly ignoring the other mental box. The tangle of love, hate, abandonment, hurt and everything in between fights her, but the determination wins out; there those things would stay, forever if she had any say about it.
Blinking her eyes open, she isn't remotely surprised when she sees Nick's worried gaze peering down at her.
He doesn't say anything, just studies her.
He won't ask, would never pry unless the situation calls for it, which it occasionally does, but now is not one of those times. His silent understanding, their easy communication, is perhaps what she loves the most about him. She would do the same for him, siblings forged from fire, ready to have the others back in a heartbeat.
"Oliver's going to be mad that you're late," she tells him steadily.
Nick's lips quirk into a wry smirk, reading between the lines easily enough, instantly knowing that she was on solid ground with her easy comment.
"I can say the same about Noelle," he rumbles quietly.
"Touchè," Andy acknowledges with a touch of amusement. "Catch you later."
Nick just lifts a shoulder in agreement before slipping outside, a quick squeeze on Andy's shoulder comfort enough.
With one last breath, Andy pushes off the wall and follows, plopping down into 1507 moments later and letting the heated glare from Noelle slide off her back.
Today will be a long day.
But it will be far from the worst she's ever experienced and she has no doubt she'll make it through.
Maybe not entirely unscathed, but through.
A/N: Updated 07/07/2017
So, after going back through what I'd roughed up for this from four years ago, I realized the direction I was headed didn't really make sense, so I've made some changes that will make sense. And lead to a better story :)
