AN: I had fun with this one. Which is kind of funny because it's not a terribly fun chapter. But I enjoyed writing it and bringing in someone new. Who? Read to find out.

PS, thanks for the reviews. I mean it all of the time even when I don't say it.

Towards the end of November, as the first snow was falling, Sam sat alone in the dining hall. His books were in front of him—untouched—and he had a stack of quizzes in front of him that he had to grade. His attention was waning, though, and he just wanted to get home. Boyko made it clear that he needed to enter the grades by the end of the week, so Sam couldn't leave until he finished the ten quizzes he had left.

"What are you doing here on a Friday night?" Oliver asked as he slid into the seat across from him.

"Grading," he answered, putting his pen down and closing his laptop. "I need to enter these quizzes before it's too late."

"Where's your girlfriend?" Oliver asked, opening up a bag of chips. He started eating them, one after another, while he waited for Sam to finish yawning.

"Library, I think," he said, looking quickly at his watch. "She's got some English paper due on Monday. I'll see her later, I think."

Oliver nodded and finished off his chips. "I'm no my way over there now," he said and Sam nodded. He cracked his knuckles, then his neck, wanting nothing more than to pack it in. "I took Boo out and fed him before I came here."

"Thanks, man," Sam smiled quickly. Since the night Andy took care of the two of them, Oliver had moved out of his apartment with Zoe and was living on Sam's couch. He really didn't mind it and he was happy that he could be there for Oliver, but it did make spending time alone with Andy a little challenging.

In the three weeks since he'd been staying with Sam, Oliver had turned into a bit of a hermit. He didn't want to go out and see people, he was still getting over his breakup, so when Sam and Andy would find their way back to his apartment—either from school or the bar—Oliver was waiting for them on the couch. Andy living in the dorms with two roommates meant that spending any time there was near impossible. The two of them were able to spend a night or two alone, locked in his bedroom, but were always careful to keep quiet so as not to rub their relationship in Oliver's face or disturb him.

"I'll let you get back to work," Oliver said, standing quickly and Sam nodded to himself. After he left, Sam opened his computer so he could keep comparing the quizzes to the answer sheet. Thankfully, most of the answers were multiple choice, so he was able to start moving through the rest pretty quickly.

After Oliver had been gone for about twenty minutes, he heard loud, wet footsteps coming toward him. When he looked up, he saw Andy coming toward him, her parka and hair covered in snow.

"Are you okay?" He asked, standing up to meet her. She held out her hand, breathing deeply, and he walked toward her as she slowed to a stop. "Andy, what's wrong?"

"Oliver," she said and scenarios started running through his mind of what could have possibly happened to him since he left. As he was about to ask her—beg her—to elaborate, she got a second wind. "Oliver's at the library. He said- he said he'd be there for hours."

"I know," he said, nodding slowly. He was utterly confused by her sudden appearance and her staggered breathing. "Did you run here?"

"Hours, Sam," she emphasized, dropping her backpack on the seat. She walked toward him and put her freezing hands on his shoulders. "Hours."

"McNally," he laughed, tugging on her zipper pull to bring her closer. "Did you just run across the quad in the snow so we could go back to my place for some time alone?"

"Yes! Are you done grading?"

"I have a few more to do," he told her. "Did you finish your paper?"

"I'll finish it at home tomorrow," she said, letting her hands fall from his shoulders. "My dad's working tomorrow night, anyway. It kind of works out."

"Not for me," he reminded her. he kept forgetting that she was getting on a bus in the morning and spending Saturday and Sunday with her father. He, however, had plans with Oliver to go to a party that one of Jerry's roommates was throwing.

"Oh, please, you'll be fine," she laughed. "Hurry up and grade, though. If I'm going to be gone all weekend, I'd kind of like some one on one time with you tonight."

"Jeez, McNally, you'd think we didn't see each other four hours ago," he laughed and she rolled her eyes while she took of her jacket.

"I'm getting a snack," she said, draping it over the back of her chair. "Need anything?"

"No thanks."

Andy's foot tapped repeatedly against the tile floor of the dining hall. Over and over. She wasn't trying to be impatient or rush Sam, but she wasn't going to see him at all on Saturday or Sunday. Those were the days she looked forward to and could promise to him on a weekly basis. But, after talking back and forth with her father, she decided she'd go home for a visit. He was working a late shift on Saturday, but she'd see him for a little while before he went in and all day on Sunday. She missed him. She was worried about him. It would be worth it.

But with Oliver staying at Sam's, she had a hard time going over there and being with him. She loved Oliver and she was beyond happy that Sam was being a friend and letting him stay with him for free. Sam didn't complain once. As far as she knew, he loved having Oliver around. He cooked, he helped with Boo, he kept what little belongings he had clean and tidy. If Oliver wasn't sitting or sleeping on the couch, you'd barely know he was staying there at all. But he was always sitting or sleeping on the couch—unless he was on campus.

One Saturday after he moved in, Andy and Sam had gone to get dinner and then gone out for a few drinks around the corner. It was before the snow started and even though it was cold, it was a quick and easy walk. So, they decided it was okay to have a little more than usual to drink. Sam wasn't driving and one more scotch would warm them up. It also loosened them up, however. Before they had even gotten into Sam's apartment, they were making out—hands and lips roaming. As soon as they were inside, jackets came off and Andy's shirt went flying. It wasn't until they heard a gasp that they remembered Oliver was there. It wasn't until Andy's chest was against Sam's—hiding it from view—that they noticed Dov sitting with him.

After that, Andy had been very conscious of when Oliver would be around. She wasn't avoiding him and Sam's place on purpose, but they had enough going on there without her constant presence. A couple of times, they'd get back to the apartment before Oliver and end up in the bedroom immediately. She felt bad, though. Oliver was staying with Sam because he had just broken up with his girlfriend; she did not want to remind him of what he was missing, so they'd stay locked in there together until the morning.

"Andy," Sam sighed, his foot stepping gently on hers underneath the table. "It's not going to get me out of here any faster. One more left and then I'm yours."

"Sorry," she said genuinely. She didn't want to be some naggy girlfriend, but she also wanted to get him back to his apartment and rip off the sweater he was wearing. He had this way of wearing a sweater that made her knees weak. He had no idea the effect he had on her. If he did, he'd be considerate and wear more ill fitting clothes.

"Come here," he said, pulling gently on her hand that was on the table. She smiled and leaned over just enough for their lips to meet briefly. "Ten minutes."

"Okay," she said, smiling again as she sat back in her chair. When he smiled at her and looked down at his paper, she remembered their first encounter in the dining hall. How he made her so nervous until he cracked a smile. He was pretty liberal with smiles when it came to her, but she'd spent a lot of time in class with him and he didn't hand them out much. Other than her, his smiles seemed saved for his dog, Jerry, and Oliver. Anyone else was lucky to get a nod from him.

He hit enter on his keyboard, shut off his laptop, and packed up his backpack all while she hurried to put on her jacket and make sure her backpack wasn't missing anything. "All set?" He asked and she nodded enthusiastically while she reached for his hand.

"One day," Andy said, rolling from her side of the bed to rest comfortably against his chest. "I'm going to get one of those really big cookie cakes and eat the whole thing."

Her hands formed a circle on his chest, showing him how big she meant, and he laughed. He had no idea what she was talking about or where the idea even came from, but he liked that she felt compelled enough to share with him. "Are you planning on letting me have any?"

"I don't know," she said, smiling flirtatiously as her fingers drummed against his sternum. He leaned forward to catch her lips with his.

"Stay," he said when he settled back against his pillows. "You know, you can leave in the morning."

"My bus leaves too early," she reminded him. He had already offered to drive her to the bus, but she refused—she didn't want to inconvenience him.

"So, what, you just came over to get laid?" He asked sarcastically and she laughed out loud—enough to make him join along. "Am I just a piece of meat to you?"

"Shut up, Sam," she laughed, rolling onto her back. He turned onto his side so he was leaning over her. His fingers traced down the side of her face and lightly over her throat until they reached the top of her chest. He teased her, running his fingers lower, until taking his hand away all together. When she whined inadvertently, he smirked and she scowled. "That was mean."

"Well, you've had your fun already, McNally," he joked. "I'm nothing to you."

"You know that's not true," she said and he got concerned at her tone of voice. When his eyes met hers, she shook her head ever so slightly.

"Hey," he said gently as his palm cupped her jaw. "I know. I was joking."

"I want to stay, tonight and all weekend," she admitted quietly and he nodded for her to continue. After a deep breath and a readjustment of the sheets around her chest, she looked up at him. "I'm worried about my father. And I feel so guilty that I haven't been home to check on him. I mean, for all I know, our house looks like a bar after a fight."

"Why?" He asked quietly. Her dad was the one parent he thought hadn't let her down.

"Well, I'm sure you've seen a bar fight," she sighed, sitting up and pulling away from him. "My dad is really good at those, but he's also really good at drinking alone at home. No actual fights there, but plenty of empty or broken bottles. He'll be working tomorrow night and I'll be cleaning up his mess. That's what I do."

"I'm sorry, Andy," he said, settling against his headboard next to her. "You don't deserve that."

"He doesn't deserve to be left alone for months on end while I'm here with you," she said sadly and he shook his head. "He's my responsibility."

"No," he insisted and then he thought of what to say next. "Andy, he's a grown man who is sick. You're nineteen and the only reason you know me is because you left home to go to college. To further your life. Your father is not your responsibility. Believe me, I know what it's like to have family obligations that go above and beyond your normal roles of a child."

"Oh yeah?" She asked and he nodded.

"My dad, he's not a good guy," he said, eyes cast down toward his lap. "I spent a lot of time making sure my mom and sister didn't have to deal with him the same way I did."

"It was your responsibility," she said and he realized that, at one point, he saw his role the same as she saw hers.

"But it shouldn't have been."

"Well, life's not fair, right?"

"Nope, life kind of sucks most of the time," he agreed, smiling sadly.

"It doesn't when I'm here," she said softly and he found her hand between their thighs and laced their fingers together. "I'm so good at forgetting about all of that crap when you and I are here together. Are you magic or something?" She laughed. "Because you're, like, just really good at making things okay. Even if it is just for a few hours, I really need it sometimes."

"Hey, right back at you," he promised. She leaned over and kissed him softly. "Just let me know when you need to head back to school and I'll give you a ride."

"Not yet," she said, settling further down so she was lying again. He joined her and pulled her against his chest. "You know, he's really not all bad. You'd like my dad."

"I bet I would," Sam mumbled, his lips resting at her forehead.

Andy got off the warm bus and hit the cold sidewalk. The snow had stopped, but it left a mess of slush in its wake. Sidestepping puddle after puddle, she found her dad leaning against his car. He looked good—tired, sure, but good—and he smiled as soon as he saw her. No matter how much he drank or how many time she had to clean up his messes, when he looked at her like she was the only good thing in the world, she remembered how much he loved her.

"Hi," she smiled, walking quicker until she could throw her arms around his neck and squeeze him.

"Hi, kid," her dad said, his hand cradling the back of her head against his shoulder. "How was the ride?"

"Fine," she promised. When they pulled away from the hug, he kept his hands on her shoulders to take a good, long look at her. "You look older."

"I feel older," she laughed. She was growing uncomfortable under his scrutiny, but when his eyes crinkled in a smile she relaxed. "How are you?"

"Good," he nodded, letting go of her. He took her backpack from where it was dangling on her one shoulder and placed it in the backseat of his car. "Get in. It's freezing."

Andy did as she was told. If there was one thing she was good at, it was taking orders from her father. When he slid into his seat next to her, he started the car immediately and sped off towards home. "How's work? How's Ronnie?"

"Work's good. Ronnie's great," he said, referring to his partner in the detective's office. "Misses all those brownies you used to bake us, though. The whole division does."

"I'll make some before I leave tomorrow," she smiled. The men and women of 15 division practically raised Andy after her mother left and she loved them all. She was more than happy to make them her famous peanut butter chunk brownies."You can bring them in on Monday if you don't eat them all first."

"You don't have to," he chuckled, but Andy knew he was looking forward to them. He was practically salivating at the prospect. "You know what' funny, though?"

"What?"

"Mark, you know? One of the beat cops?" He asked, glancing over quickly before turning onto their street.

"Of course, yeah."

"He tells me you've got a boyfriend," he said suddenly and Andy's heart stopped for a second right before her face turned red.

"How could Mark possibly know my relationship status?" Andy asked. She knew her school wasn't too far away, but she also knew it was in a town no one cared to visit unless they were visiting one of the students.

"No idea. I guess it's not fair to say he told me," he amended and Andy swallowed, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Her dad was usually direct and cut right to the chase, but this conversation was going in a totally unknown direction. "I mean, I heard him talking to another uniform. Something about Tommy's daughter making out in a pickup truck off of Spadina."

"Oh my god," Andy said, eyes wide, mouth open. "Mark saw me three weeks ago and you didn't tell me?"

"I didn't tell you? You were in the city, an hour and a half away from school on a Friday, with some guy I've never heard of!"

"I don't want you worrying about me," Andy said quietly. They were sitting outside of their house, but neither was moving. "Dad, I didn't tell you about me and Sam because you've got enough going on here. He's great, though. I swear; you don't need to worry about him."

"You skipped school, though, didn't you?"

"I skipped a class, yes," Andy admitted. With the way her dad was making it sound, it was like she was building bombs instead of picking up a textbook. "Sam needed to pick something up at a friend's house. We just drove in and drove right out again."

"How old is he?" Tommy asked and it seemed like he already knew he wouldn't like the answer.

"Why?"

"How old is he, Andy?"

"I am an adult," she reminded him. "And if you wanted to yell at me for skipping class or tell me to breakup with my boyfriend, you could have done that over the phone. Not that I'm breaking up with Sam, because, believe me, I'm not.

"How old?"

"Twenty-four," she said honestly. Five years was nothing to them anymore. Once upon a time, sure, it was a little issue. But the actual age difference hadn't been brought up since before Halloween weekend.

"What's he even doing in college? He skip too many classes to graduate on time or something?"

"Oh my god, Dad," she laughed humorlessly. "He's in grad school, actually. He's very smart and he cares about me. That's all you need to know until you get on board."

"I'd get on board a lot quicker if you weren't sneaking around my city behind my back, Andy."

"Sorry, I forgot you owned this city," she said with a roll of her eyes before leaving him alone in the car.