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A Sam/Andy fic.

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Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Rookie Blue.

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A/N: Some stuff happened today, so I don't know how much I'll be posting. But I wanted to get this down, a way of venting my feelings.

This is basically my idea of what might happen if Andy's father died in the show.

I hope you guys like this.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback.

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She was numb. It couldn't be happening, but somehow it was. The words, 'it's not fair' didn't seem to even cover what she was feeling.

People kept coming up to her, wanting to pay their respects, offer their condolences, offer her a helping hand and a shoulder to cry on. But all she could do was nod absently, and say something that must have been "thank you."

The whole day was a blur. She wasn't sure how she'd managed to plan everything, and put the whole event in order, when now it was a struggle to even breathe.

The funeral had been hard enough. Having to stand up there, in front of everyone that she knew, and talk about how great a man he was, and how much she loved him ... she'd nearly died with him right there. The picture of his smiling face looking out at the crowd seemed to worsen her pain. But it only got worse as the day progressed. Tommy McNally hadn't left the badge in the best of standings, but he'd been given a cop's funeral. Andy figured she'd be grateful for that later, but for now, all she could do was miss him.

They left the funeral home and drove to the cemetery, following behind the hearse. Several people on the streets stopped to watch the progression go by, the flashing lights and painted cars telling them that a cop had died. How could they have known any different?

She'd thought that standing over his grave, watching the casket get lowered into the ground, would be the worst thing she'd have to witness. She would never be able to see him again once he was down there, and that knowledge tore at her, clawed at her heart.

But she was wrong. That wasn't the worst part. It was now. It was having to put on a fake smile, and accept people's sincerity and apologies, and talk about how great of a man her father was; how he would be missed by everyone, and what a shame it was that he had died.

She had to get out of there. She couldn't breathe.

They were holding the wake in a hall that she'd rented out ... she and her father both lived in apartments, and there wouldn't have been enough room. She excused herself from the room, making her way down the nearest flight of stairs. She hoped to find a bathroom or something, but just ended up in a long hallway. As the tears ran down her face, she opened the first door that was unlocked. It turned out to be a storage closet.

Andy closed the door behind her, sliding down to the floor. She didn't bother turning the light on, grateful for the solitude of the small, darkened room.

Her father had finally drank himself to death, and now she had to deal with the fallout. It was too much ... too much.

Andy heard footsteps coming down the stairs, signifying that someone had followed her. She dropped her head back against the wall, not wanting to deal with another relative or friend asking her if she needed anything. It was a stupid question. Yes, she needed something. She needed her dad. She needed him not to be dead. But since no human being could accomplish that feat, what she needed was to be left alone. What she needed was to try and forget about the hole in her heart, and the knot in her stomach.

The footsteps grew louder, and then they stopped. Andy hoped that the person would give up, but then there was a soft knock on the closet door.

She sighed deeply, wiping the tears off of her pale face. "I'll be back out in a minute, I'm just ... getting some napkins."

The person on the other side of the door didn't answer, and a few seconds later, the door creaked open.

Andy looked up through red and puffy eyes to see Sam staring back down at her, his hand on the doorknob.

"Hey," he spoke softly, not really knowing what else to say.

Andy's lips tightened together for a moment, before she closed her eyes. "Hey."

Sam knew that she'd been overwhelmed out there, but he also knew that it wasn't safe for her to be alone right then. Grieving people did stupid things, and he didn't want anything to happen to her. He spotted a light hanging in the closet, and reached forward to pull the string below it, illuminating the small space. Next, he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. He waited a beat, and then slid down against the wall opposite her, the room so narrow that their knees almost touched.

Andy's eyes remained closed, not trusting herself to open them for fear of the tears flowing freely once more.

"Bad day, huh?" Sam spoke finally.

Andy worried her bottom lip between her teeth, nodding her head. "Yeah."

Sam's arms rested on his knees, taking in her appearance. "I'm not gonna say that it'll get easier, or that you'll move on ... 'cause you don't need to hear that right now. But I think the best thing for you to focus on right now is, your dad loved you. You're going to miss him for the rest of your life, but you loved each other. Just ... hold onto that."

Andy screwed her eyes shut even harder, trying to control her emotions. She knew that he was right, but it didn't make it any easier. "I'm just so ... I'm so mad at him," she confessed.

Sam nodded his head, letting her rant.

"I tried to help him," she told him. "I told him that he was gonna kill himself, that all the booze and pills ..." she trailed off, her voice breaking. "Oh, god ... I just can't deal with this right now."

Sam didn't know what else to say, so he let his actions speak for him. Standing up, he bent over to take her hand, pulling her up with him. He saw her eyes open briefly, but didn't wait for her to speak. Sam pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. If it helped her to breathe, he would let her cry all over his dark suit. He didn't really know how else to help.

Andy fought to hold onto her tears, but when his arms folded around her, she couldn't do it anymore. They spilled freely from her eyes, dampening the material of his suit as she buried her head in his shoulder. The feeling of his hands on her back, rubbing in slow circles, was a small comfort. Small, but still there.

"It hurts," she whimpered against him, her arms clenching around his shoulders.

Sam nodded his head, just standing there and holding her.

"I just want it all to go away," she told him, her hands clenching against his suit jacket, fisting it in her hands. "I just want the pain and hurt to go away."

"I know," Sam spoke softly, not knowing what else to say.

They stood there like that for an unknowable amount of time, caught in their embrace. Andy couldn't bring herself to let go, and he was willing to hold on as long as she needed him.

Her head shifted against his shoulder, bending slightly to dip her forehead against the bone.

Sam thought she might have calmed down some, regained herself a bit, and so he loosened his hands around her back.

Andy drew in a shaky breath, pulling away from him slightly. She was drowning in herself, caught in a whirlpool of emotions, and just needed something to keep her anchored down. She needed shelter from the storm, and there he was. She lifted her head up to meet his eyes, seeing the sympathy in them. Andy closed her eyes, banishing the image of her father's casket as her head drifted towards Sam's lips.

He hadn't expected it, but at the same time, he knew that it was coming. Sam didn't stop her from kissing him, but he didn't kiss her back, either. When she pulled away, he brought a hand to her neck, brushing her hair back. "Andy ... I don't want you to do something you'll regret. You're grieving, and we shouldn't -"

Andy shook her head. "I need to forget. I need you to make forget about this pain ... it's tearing me up, Sam. Just make it go away," she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears once more.

Rational thought told him that he should just walk out the door. He should go find one of her friends and let them comfort her. But she wanted him, she was asking him ... she needed him.

Deciding that it was worth it if it made her feel better, he slowly brought his lips down to hers, kissing her softly.

Andy gripped the lapels of his suit jacket, pulling him even closer to her. She needed to feel him on every part of her body, leaving no trace of anything else left behind. Just him.

His jacket came off, and then his tie was loosened. Sam's eyes danced behind his closed lids, letting himself fall with her, while at the same time making himself sturdy enough to catch her. He angled her against him, moving back a few steps until she was pressed against the wall of the storage room.

Andy gripped the white shirt where it was tucked into his pants, pulling up until it was free. Her unsteady hands came down to his belt next, working the buckle and pulling it free.

The near-quiet of the room was broken by the sound of his zipper being lowered.

Sam's hands slid up Andy's thighs, bringing her dress with them. His eyes flickered open, watching her face for any signs of protest. His pausing brought an even sadder look to her face, so he continued, sliding her underwear down her legs.

Andy hooked a leg around the back of his thigh, pulling him closer to his body after her hands pushed down his pants.

Sam stepped out of them, pushing them back behind him, his shoes going with.

If someone were to walk in on them at that moment, they would have been met with quite a sight. But luckily for them, they were the only souls in the basement of the hall. The only heartbeats on the floor, and they were beating for each other.

Andy dug her fingers into his shoulders, urging him on as he positioned himself. With a nod of her head, they became one for the moment. A small gasp escaped her lips at the feeling, but he swallowed it, sealing his lips over hers.

They moved together repeatedly, crashing against each other like waves against the dark rocks of the sea.

A single tear leaked from her eye, but Sam kissed it away, his hands embracing her again. He made it last for as long as he could, wanting to give her the break from reality that she so desperately needed. But eventually, he could hold on no longer.

Their bodies tensed almost in time with each other, falling over that edge together. When it was over, they remained entwined, leaning against the wall. Their panting filled the room with sound, neither of them willing to let go just yet.

"Thank you," Andy rasped, not trusting herself to speak in more than a whisper.

Sam nodded his head against her shoulder, waiting to let go until she wanted him to.

Andy held onto him tighter, remembering the people that were upstairs, and why they were there. She couldn't bring herself to go out and face them, she couldn't bring herself to leave the room, so she just held onto him, her chest heaving against his.

If anyone missed them, they didn't come looking.

They remained in their bubble of security and solitude for another twenty minutes, Sam doing nothing but comforting her.

She knew that they would have to talk about it later, and figure out what had happened ... but it wasn't later. It was now ... and right now, she just wanted to forget. She wanted to forget with him.

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The end.

I wrote this in memory of my cousin, Jeff. I miss him more than words can describe.

Please read and review.

Until next time ...