Author's Note: So, this story was inspired by the Dave Matthew's Band song "Lovers Tonight". It doesn't follow the format of the song exactly, but I just started writing and this is what came out. Takes place after 1.13 Takedown. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

Andy's eyes momentarily widened when Sam flung the hotel room door open, but she quickly narrowed them and fought to keep her expression blank. Her first instinct was to reach out and hug him, but she had long ago learned to control that particular desire.

He stood there, hand braced on the door, arm blocking her path, in a black t-shirt and boxers. His hair was sticking up at every angle, no doubt from the countless times he had run his hands through it, and his jaw looked prickly with day-old growth. It was his eyes that caught her most off guard, though. Red rimmed and bloodshot, the normally warm brown eyes were dark and vacant, boring into hers.

"What the hell are you doing here?" He asked, anger simmering in his tone.

Andy smirked and pushed passed him, moving into the room, "Hello to you, too."

Sam watched in disbelief as she deposited the pizza and beer she had been carrying on the small table in the corner of the room and threw her bag onto one of the beds. Closing the door, he folded his arms across the front of his chest. "Did it ever occur to you that I may not want you here?"

Andy shrugged, turning to face him. "It occurred to me that you probably think you don't want me here."

"How did you know?"

"Jerry found me this morning," she said, not offering any more explanation.

Sam sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and promising himself he'd have a talk with his friend once he got back to the city. "And the hotel?"

"There are three hotels in this town. It's not like it was difficult to track you down, even for a rookie like me," she added, self-deprecatingly. "And it was pretty easy to convince the night clerk to tell me what room you were in," she said, her eyes dipping down.

"Always keeping it classy, McNally," he spat harshly.

"I showed him my badge, jackass," she replied, an indignant hand on her hip.

Sam winced slightly, chagrined. "Sorry," he mumbled.

"Its okay," she shrugged, having forgiven him before he'd even asked. They stared at each other in tense silence before she spoke again, "Have you eaten?"

Sam rolled his eyes, moving further into the room. "So you're here to take care of me? Is that what this is?"

"Sam," Andy said, fighting to keep her voice steady, "Do you think you could drop the pissed off act, please?"

"Who says it's an act?" He huffed.

Andy rolled her eyes at the immature comeback but let it slide, staying silent. She leaned back against the table, arms folded in front of her and one ankle crossed over the other, eyeing him warily.

Sam regarded her for a moment from his position across the room before repeating his question from earlier, "What the hell are you doing here?"

Andy sighed, her shoulders slumping in defeat at his tone. "I thought you could use a friend," she admitted.

"We are not friends, Andy," Sam said, laughing sardonically and making no effort to conceal his contempt for the word.

Andy's stomach knotted in pain as it always did when she remembered the night their friendship had ended.

"I'm moving in with him." Andy told him, her eyes downcast, pulling her jacket tightly around her to block out the night's chill.

Sam felt as though he had been punched in the stomach. "No," he whispered.

"Why not?" She asked, pleading, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't."

He swallowed hard, "Andy…" he said hesitantly, not able to make himself say words that he so desperately wanted her to hear.

"Yeah," she said after a moment, tears filling her eyes. "That's what I thought."

He stood there, dumbfounded, as she moved quickly around him to go back into the Penny. Back to Luke.

Since then they barely tolerated being around each other. They still worked together well, both able to put their personal feelings aside for the job, but gone was the light teasing, the easy banter. The pretense of being friends.

"That was your decision, not mine," she told him.

He shot her a look, raising his eyebrows. "Really?" he asked, daring her to argue with him.

"Fine," she agreed. "But you're still my partner, right? You said it yourself, partners stick together."

"What does Callaghan think of you being here?"

Andy swallowed hard before replying, "It doesn't really matter."

"Why not?"

"Because he's not my boyfriend anymore," she confessed, cocking an eyebrow, almost challenging him to make a comment about it.

It was his turn to be caught off guard. "He's not?" He asked, failing to hide the way his lips smirked at the revelation.

"No," Andy said, straightening up to remove her jacket. He hadn't kicked her out yet and she was fairly certain he wasn't going to. She hung her jacket on the back of the chair before turning to face him again. "Apparently he wasn't too thrilled with the idea of me coming here."

"You came up here even though you knew he would break up with you?" Sam asked, a softness that she hadn't heard in a long time entering his voice.

"Yeah." Andy shrugged. "Which is way more than you deserve to know right now."

Sam stared at her, momentarily speechless at what she just told him, at what she had given up for him when he had been nothing but a jerk to her for the past several weeks. He supposed he should say something like "Thank you" or "I'm sorry", but instead he just asked, "What kind of pizza is that?"

Andy pursed her lips at the change of topic, but opened the box, holding it out to him. "Pepperoni and black olive."

"My favorite," he muttered, crossing the room to take a slice. Andy simply looked at him and he realized that she remembered it was his favorite and that was why she had gotten it.

Andy reached for his keys that were sitting on the table and used the bottle opener to pop the top off of one of the beers. "Here," she said, handing it to him. Sam took it from her without a word before settling down into one of the chairs.

It was his favorite kind of beer, too. She was making it very difficult to stay angry with her.

Andy turned away from him, sorting though some of the papers that were stacked on the desk. "What's all this?" she asked, her back to him.

"I'm Sarah's only surviving relative," Sam told her, taking a long pull from the bottle. "There's all kinds of legal stuff I have to take care of, papers to fill out."

"You know," Andy said, turning to face him with a sad smile, "I've been told I'm pretty good with paperwork."

"Thanks," Sam said, setting his beer down on the table. "I don't really want to deal with it tonight though."

Andy nodded and dropped the papers back on the desk before taking the seat next to him and grabbing a slice of pizza. Sam watched as she delicately picked off all of the olives, her nose wrinkling in disgust at each one. "I don't know how you eat these," she told him, flicking one of the offensive olives off of her finger.

Sam laughed before he could catch himself. When he realized what he was doing he stopped immediately, clearing his throat.

Andy noticed but let it go without comment, which he was thankful for. As she ate, she picked up one of the handcrafted cards that littered the table and opened it to read the inside. "Who are these from?" She asked.

"Sarah taught second grade," Sam told her. "Her students made a bunch of cards for me. The principal brought 'em over this afternoon."

Andy smiled, flipping another card open and reading over it. "That's really sweet."

He nodded, taking another sip of his beer. "Did uh," Sam started, "Did Jerry tell you what happened?"

"A little," Andy said, putting the card down and looking over at him. "Did they determine if the other driver was drunk?"

"He wasn't," Sam told her, looking down at the beer he held in his lap. "Just going too fast around a curve. Lost control."

Andy hesitated, but reached out to cover his hands with her own. "I'm really sorry, Sam."

He just nodded again, looking down at their joined hands. "How long are you staying?"

"However long you need," she told him. "I've got sick days and paid time off."

"I can't ask you to do that," Sam said quietly.

She nudged his hand and he shifted his eyes up to meet hers. "You're not."

He sighed and lifted his bottle to his lips, drowning the rest of the beer in one gulp.

"We should probably some sleep," Sam told her, standing up from the table. "There's a lot of stuff I need to take care of tomorrow."

Andy stood up with him and as he tried to move past her she did what she had wanted to do when she first saw him; she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him close to her, standing on her tiptoes to wrap her arms around his neck. After a moment she felt his arms circle her waist, tightening the hold.

He buried his face into her hair and she could feel the measured breaths that he took, his chest rising and falling in regular rhythm. "I'm so sorry Sam," she whispered into his ear. When she heard him release a soft, choked sob she tightened her arms around him and ran a hand slowly up and down his back.

After a moment, maybe longer she pulled back to look at him. His head was lowered and his eyes were downcast, so she put her fingers under his chin and gently tilted it up, meeting his gaze. There was something familiar about his expression, something she recognized in the swirling brown storms of his eyes, and she suddenly remembered when she had seen the look before.

Andy hesitated for a moment, unsure of what she was about to do. She quickly decided to go for it, realizing that if it would make Sam feel better, if it would relieve even the slightest amount of tension from his body, she would do whatever she needed to do.

Andy leaned forward and pressed a light, tentative kiss against his lips. When he didn't react, one way or the other, she did it again. Slowly she felt him responding to her, felt his lips putting pressure against her own.

"Just for tonight, Sam," she whispered, "Just forget that you hate me. Tomorrow we can go back to being whatever we were… are."

"I don't hate you," he mumbled against her lips.

She nodded slightly, "I know you don't." And she did.

He was the one to initiate the next kiss, to press his lips to hers, hesitating, exploring. She responded readily, drawing him closer and pressing herself against him. His hands rested on her hips, playing with the fabric of her shirt, and she began to raise her arms to allow him to take her shirt off until suddenly he pushed her away.

He stared at her for a minute, wiping his the back of his hand across his mouth. "What was that?" He asked, his voice raised and his eyes wide.

Andy blinked rapidly, taking a second to catch up to what was happening, "I'm sorry," she said, "I just thought…"

"You thought what, Andy?" He interrupted her. "That Callaghan broke up with you so its okay to be with me now? That I would just be so overjoyed you're single that I'd just hop in bed with you?"

Her eyes widened at the accusation. "No," she said, shaking her head, "No, that's not…"

"That is sure as hell what it looks like!"

"I just wanted to make it better!" She yelled in frustration. "I just wanted you to feel better."

"What did you think you were going to do Andy?" Sam yelled back, stepping closer to her until her back was against the wall. "Come here and screw me so I'd forget all about my dead sister and everyth…"

Sam's sentence was cut off by the harsh crack of Andy's palm against his cheek. "You know that's not what this is about," she seethed, her eyes flashing in anger.

Sam resisted the urge to reach up and rub the sting out of his cheek. Instead, he braced one hand on the wall behind her and leaned in, "Then tell me what it is about."

He watched as she blinked away tears that had formed in her eyes, his stomach twisting as he realized he was the one that had caused them. "After the shooting, I came to you because I knew you would make it better," Andy confessed, her voice shaking with honesty, "I didn't want anyone but you."

Sam nodded quickly, bringing his other hand up to the wall. He was blocking her in now, his body braced by his arms on either side of her.

"When Jerry told me what happened, I just thought…" she continued, reaching up to rub the red mark that began to appear on his face, "That maybe you would need me as much as I needed you."

Sam exhaled and leaned into her hand, allowing her to comfort him. "You were wrong earlier," she told him, her thumb tracing the hard curve of his jaw. "Luke didn't break up with me, I broke up with him." Sam's eyes widened at the disclosure but he remained silent. "Because I realized I couldn't be with him when I spent all day desperately wanting to be here with you." She paused briefly, letting her confession sink it. "And I'm not asking you to sleep with me," she said, dipping her knees slightly so she could make eye contact with his downcast eyes. "I'm just telling you, I'm here… whatever you need."

Sam squeezed his eyes shut and leaned his forehead against hers. Andy ran her hand around to the back of his head, tangling her fingers into his hair. "Hey, what is it you always tell me?" She asked, her lips close to his. "Don't over think it."

Sam's eyes opened and he found himself leaning in closer to her, until his lips brushed over hers. "I do need you," he said, whispering the confession. "I miss you."

"I miss you, too," Andy assured him, curling her hands around his biceps, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. He hesitated for a moment but she soon felt the tension in his arms release as he leaned closer to her, deepening the kiss.

Sam's hands went to the hem of her shirt, and she raised her arms, letting him tug it over her head. "I don't want you just for tonight, Andy," he told her, bending down to suckle the soft skin at the base of her neck.

She traced her hand underneath the back of his t-shirt and hissed as he bit down just below her collarbone. "I don't want that either," she promised him, "but we can talk about it later."

He raised his eyes to meet hers and with a small nod he lifted her off the ground, guiding her legs around his hips with his free hand. "Are you sure about this?" He asked, gently setting her on the bed, a hand behind her back to lower her down.

She nodded, "As long as you are."

Afterwards he moved down her body to kiss the faint bruises that appeared on her hip from where he had gripped her a little to tightly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, brushing his fingers across the marred skin with a feather-like touch.

"Don't be," she said, swatting his hands away and reaching down to pull him back up to her. "I bruise like a peach. Besides," she smiled softly, "You didn't hear me complaining."

He laughed a genuine laugh that she hadn't heard in a long time. "No I didn't McNally," he said, falling to the bed beside her, yawning.

"You ready to go to sleep?" Andy asked, combing her fingers through his hair.

He nodded, yawning again, "Its not you," he said, "I promise. I didn't get any sleep last night."

"Yeah," she said softly, pressing a kiss against his lips. "I wish you would have called me. I would have come up with you."

"I know you would have," he said, rolling her over and spooning her from behind. "I didn't think I could ask that of you… not with how things were."

She sighed, "Well I'm here now." She scooted herself back against him and began to trace light patterns through the hair that sprinkled his arm. Eventually she heard Sam's breathing even out and knew that he had fallen asleep.

Andy woke up the next morning to the sound of Sam's deep voice, speaking quietly. Opening her eyes, she saw him ironing a dress shirt in his boxers, talking into his phone. She stretched her arms above her head, yawning.

Sam noticed that she had woken and winked over at her. "Yeah, she's here," he said, motioning to the coffeemaker in the small kitchenette. She looked over to see freshly made coffee and smiled. Reaching under the covers, Andy searched blindly for Sam's discarded t-shirt. When she found it she slipped it over her head and padded over to pour herself some coffee.

"Uh huh," Sam said to whoever was on the phone, "Yeah, I was… No… No… That's none of your business."

His sharp tone made her turn to look at him. He just shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you Thursday." He paused, letting the other person speak. "Thanks buddy." Another pause and finally, "Yep, bye."

He flipped his phone closed and looked over at her. "That was Jerry," he said. "He's coming up for the funeral.

"Ah," Andy said as she leaned back against the counter to sip her coffee. "Where are you going?" She asked, motioning to the shirt.

"Funeral home," he responded, looking away from her to concentrate on a crease in the sleeve. "I've got to get some of the arrangements taken care of."

Andy set her mug down on the counter and walked over to him, hugging him from behind. "Give me half an hour," she told him, pressing a kiss against the skin of his bare back, "I'll go with you."

He started to protest but decided against it. Instead, he set the iron down and turned around. "Have I told you thank you yet, for coming up here?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her.

"Oh, I think you might have last night," Andy said, grinning. "A time or two."

"Or three." He suggested, shrugging. He grinned wickedly down at her and she laughed, slapping him lightly and the chest.

He smiled at her before sobering quickly, "I mean it, Andy." He said, twisting a small piece of her hair around in his fingers, "I know it took a lot for you to come up here, and I really appreciate it." He was silent for a moment before admitting, "I don't think I could do this without you."

Andy nodded and stood on her tiptoes to meet his gaze evenly. "You don't have to."