In a review for something else I wrote or in a PM, someone gave me the idea for doing a "moving in" story. I apologize for not putting in more of an effort to figure out who you were and credit you properly, but thank you for the idea. This is a three-parter. The chapter splits are mainly because it was too long for one chapter. I sort of loosely separated chapters by "pre-move," "moving in" and "post-move." Oh, and one more thing . . . this isn't a continuation of anything else I've written. I just wanted to put it out there at the beginning to make for an easier read.

"Sam, get up. You're working today." Andy prodded him in the side. He was lying face down in the middle of her bed. If she hadn't heard his deep even breaths beside her, she would have been checking for a pulse.

When she climbed on his back and became more persistent, he growled and flipped over. In so doing, Andy rolled off, but he quickly pulled her back on top of him so that they were face to face.

"Sam, no," she squealed when he tried to bring her in for a kiss.

"What do you mean 'no?'" he grumbled.

"You know what I mean," she insisted, shoving him playfully. When he didn't respond, she clarified, "Morning breath."

"You keep saying that," he complained. "I don't recall you having a problem with my morning breath when we first got together. Or when we got back together, for that matter."

"Seriously? No one talks about morning breath in the beginning of a relationship. It's like the elephant in the room." Andy looked at him incredulously as if she had just explained something that should have been very obvious.

Sam rolled her over and settled on top of her, sliding the neck of her t-shirt off of her shoulder. He planted light kisses across the exposed skin, slowly moving his attention to her neck. Slipping his hands beneath her shirt, he ran them up the sides of her body as he scattered feathery kisses up her neck. When she felt the softness of his lips brushing across her ear, she closed her eyes and let out a low moan. All concerns about morning breath long forgotten, she nipped lightly at his bottom lip, sending him the message that she wanted to be kissed. Suddenly, he pulled back and a sly smile appeared on his face.

"Not a chance, McNally. Unless there's a toothbrush on the horizon, those lips aren't coming anywhere near mine. Your rules," he announced breezily, climbing off the bed and making his way into the bathroom.

Andy sighed in frustration but couldn't stop a smile from forming when she heard the sound of the electric toothbrush coming from the bathroom.

As always when she didn't join him, Sam made quick work of his shower. When he stepped out and grabbed a towel, she was standing at the sink watching him in the mirror while she brushed her own teeth.

"Big plans for your day off?" he asked as he toweled off.

"A wibble of vif, a wibble of vaf . . . ." she babbled through a mouthful of toothpaste.

"Sounds great," he commented, sending her an amused smirk as he walked back into the bedroom. He opened the drawer he kept stocked with clothes for when he stayed over and pulled out a clean t-shirt and jeans. Tossing them on the bed, Sam turned his attention back to the drawer, rifling through it carelessly. Coming up empty-handed, he let out a loud groan. "I forgot to bring over clean socks."

"I think I have some of your socks in with my laundry, but they're all dirty. That was one of the things I was planning to do today," Andy said, coming out of the bathroom as he shoved the drawer shut impatiently.

"That's just great. I get to wear dirty socks all day," he mumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head roughly.

"Do you want to borrow some of mine?" she asked in an attempt to placate him.

"Yes, please. I would love to wear a pair of your women's socks," Sam griped, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

"A sock is a sock, Sam. It's not like I was offering you a pair with pink poodles on them. If you'd rather wear dirty socks to work, be my guest," she said with a shrug of her shoulders as she sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him move around the room getting ready.

"Whatever. Fine. I'll wear a pair of yours," he huffed, throwing up his hands in defeat. "Nothing feminine, though. No polka dots. No flowers. And if you offer me anything with puppies, I'm going barefoot."

"Don't do me any favors," Andy muttered under her breath. Crossing the room, she pulled a pair of black socks from a drawer and tossed them in his direction.

When he saw that the socks were black, Sam calmed down considerably. He sat at the end of the bed and exhaled loudly as he pulled them on. "Kind of small, but I guess they're better than nothing," he noted, flexing his foot dramatically. "This is getting kind of crazy, don't you think?"

"What do you mean?" Andy asked, confusion etched on her face. Not knowing where he was going with the remark, she sat down beside him tentatively. A tiny part of her feared that he might be trying to pull back again. She quickly shoved away that thought, however, reminding herself that they were in a really solid place. Until his reaction to the sock dilemma, he had given her no indication that he was unhappy with the current setup.

"This," he answered with emphasis, gesturing to the room at large as if that cleared it up completely.

"My bedroom?" Andy questioned him with wide eyes.

"No. I mean, yes. Sort of," he stammered, frustrating both of them in the process. Running one hand through his hair, he seemed annoyed by his inability to say what he wanted to say to her. Finally, using his hands for emphasis, he stated firmly, "I just think maybe it's time to talk about putting all of our stuff under one roof."

"You want to move in together?" Andy attempted to clarify. A sudden rush of laughter escaped as she experienced a mixture of shock and relief. When he stared at her blankly, she explained, "I thought you were going to tell me you needed space."

This time, he turned wide eyes on her. "Why would you think that?"

"Ranting about not having any clean socks . . . telling me this is kind of crazy . . . ." she recited as she tried to explain her thought process to him. "Okay, when I repeat it back the evidence seems kind of flimsy," she acknowledged as a blush spread from her neck to her cheeks. She narrowed her eyes at him. "So you really want to live together?"

"Does that freak you out?" he asked slowly, a dash of apprehensiveness coloring his tone.

"No," she assured him immediately. "I'm surprised it doesn't freak you out, though."

"Andy, it doesn't freak me out," he said as he took her hand and rested it on his thigh, absently playing with her fingers as their legs bumped against each other. "I've been thinking about it since we got back together."

"You have? Sam, it's been six months. You've been thinking about moving in together for six months and you didn't say anything?" She turned her whole body toward him and pulled her legs up underneath her on the bed.

"I didn't want to rush you," he explained simply. "So you're okay with the idea?"

"I'm more than okay with it. Yes, let's do it." She sprang forward and tackled him on the bed, dropping kisses all over his face.

"I do have to be at work soon, you know," he reminded her weakly.

"Wait," she pulled back and adopted a serious tone. "Your place or mine?"

"How would you feel about buying something together?" he suggested. When she only stared at him with a stunned expression, he pushed, "McNally, I don't think I've ever seen you speechless. What do you think?"

"I think," she said, as an unstoppable grin spread across her face, "That I can't wait to have all of our socks under one roof."

"We got it!" Andy shrieked, ending the call and tossing her phone onto her kitchen island.

"I sort of pieced that together from your end of the conversation," Sam laughed as he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Sam, we bought a house!" she reiterated, bouncing up and down so much that he had to relinquish his hold on her. A satisfied expression settled on Sam's face as he watched her moving excitedly around the kitchen.

Seemingly unimpressed by his lack of overt enthusiasm, Andy stopped and questioned him. "Are you happy?"

"Yes, I'm happy." He followed up the assurance with a short burst of laughter when she didn't look convinced. "This is what happy looks like on me."

She stared him down skeptically and then perked up as a new thought seemed to occur to her. "Okay, fine. You may be playing it cool on the outside, but I know you're doing a happy dance in your head," she informed him with a huge grin on her face. "I'm actually picturing it as we speak."

"Please don't," he insisted, doing a poor job of holding back a smile.

Andy gave him a quick kiss before deciding that they should drive over to the new house to see it immediately.

"Now?" He looked from her face to the two untouched plates of food on the dinner table and back again.

"Yes, now! Come on. Let's go," she giggled, running into her bedroom to grab a light sweater before taking up position beside the door to wait for him. She was literally vibrating with happiness.

"Don't you think it'll still be there after dinner?" Sam protested weakly, already palming his truck keys. "Let's go," he said, shaking his head and laughing at her. As soon as he pulled the door closed behind them she was yanking him down the hallway by the hand.

When they drove up in front of the new house Andy announced brightly, "There it is."

"Our house," Sam confirmed, resting his hand on her leg as they looked out the window at it. In spite of his objections, he was secretly glad she dragged them there to see it. He and Andy would be building their lives together in that house, and the feeling of contentment that came from that thought was almost enough to make him want to do a happy dance. Almost.

Andy jolted Sam from his reverie when she unbuckled her seat belt and swung open the door in one smooth movement. Sliding out of the truck, she planted her feet on the sidewalk and looked back to let him know that she expected him to join her.

"So I guess we're getting out . . ." he observed, unbuckling his own seat belt and opening the door. He walked around the front of the truck and stood beside her.

"Are you sure you're happy?" she asked, looking over at him.

"No. Not a bit." He responded dryly, inching her forward and enveloping her in a bear hug from behind. He buried his head in the crook of her neck, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist.

"Sam, I'm serious!" she chastised him, resting her arms on top of his.

"Of course I'm happy," he mumbled, bumping his nose against her neck lightly.

"I was just checking. You're a hard read sometimes."

"You read me just fine, McNally."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed, squeezing his arms as she stared up at their future. "I wish we could go inside."

"We probably could, but it would be difficult to explain to the current residents," Sam pointed out as he raised his head for another glance at the house. "Come on, let's go have dinner. We can do another drive-by tomorrow on the way to work."

"Okay, just two more minutes . . . ."

After five more minutes, Sam spoke up, "See that tree in the side yard?" He momentarily took one of his arms from her waist to point across the yard before wrapping it around her again.

"Yeah?" she responded, turning her head to look at the tree.

"That's where the swing will go."

Andy snapped her head back in Sam's direction. "What are we going to do with a swing?" she asked, looking amused.

"You know what . . . ." he responded, raising his eyebrows at her. Shifting his gaze back to the house, he continued, "And we're going to need a fence in the backyard for the dog."

"We're getting a dog, too?"

"Of course," he answered as if it were a done deal.

"What else?" she questioned him somewhat eagerly.

"Well . . . I think we should get one of those welcome mats for the front door, but it needs to say something like 'welcome to our home but don't get too comfortable.'"

"'Welcome to our home but don't get too comfortable,'" she repeated as the laughter bubbled out of her. "You want to put that on a welcome mat?"

"Yeah. Why not? It sets the tone as soon as people walk through the door. Otherwise, they'll be dropping by at all hours or overstaying their welcome."

"Sam, I'm pretty sure you're kidding, but there's a tiny part of me that's not convinced," she said, turning around in his arms. "So why don't we just agree that I'll be in charge of any and all door mats for the new house."

"Suit yourself," he agreed reluctantly, opening the door and nudging her up into the truck. "But don't blame me when Oliver takes up permanent residence on our couch."