A/N: Okay, so I'm not sure about this one. I don't know where I'm going with it yet so, bear with me. Please.

Disclaimer: Disclaimed.

Chapter 2;

He felt the bed shift, felt her moving around. But she wasn't awake yet, he's pretty sure. Her breathing's still steady so...

It's possible he's slithering closer to her, maybe to hold her back when she decides to bolt. Because maybe he doesn't trust her enough about this. Like, she's walked away before so, yeah.

He puts a heavy arm on her waist, and it's warm, spreads his fingers across her belly. She smells so good, he finds, when he stuffs his nose in her hair. Smells just like her. So he reaches with his hand, threads his fingers into the strands and closes his eyes planning on going back to sleep. That's when she shifts, turning in his arms, and God isn't she just too fucking beautiful. Seriously. And she's slowly opening her eyes, like she's taking her time because she's not ready to face him yet. His eyes are open, waiting for hers to focus. And so, there they are, looking at each other, with no words coming to mind.

She reaches out with a hand on his jaw, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb and feeling the morning stubble scratch her palm. She isn't smiling, just- looking. She's not shying away either so, that's good. He finds comfort in her soft hand, possibly reassuring. But uh, he thinks it won't last long.

He's guessing she's not the type to stay. Maybe he's speaking from experience, maybe the blackout night... But this time, it's, well it's much different. She isn't this broken girl who'd just shot a man, (several times), and needed a shoulder to cry on. But more of a drunken girl who'd taken too many shots, possibly, and needed a shoulder to lean on to stop herself from falling. Literally. Which, she did fall though. And shit, he forgot to ask about her head. She'd actually hit it pretty hard yesterday, plus she's got the whole hangover thing going on.

"McNally..." he whispers, and he likes it, saying her name in such an intimate tone. He's stroking her hair, and it's so heavenly soft, he just-

"Swarek", and oh God, her voice, it's filled with morning rust which is, pretty fricking hot. She still has that seriousness which, okay, he's getting a little nervous here. Just saying.

So, he starts leaning in, still looking deep into her eyes, gauging her reaction, until their noses meet. And it's really cute, what the fuck, did he just say cute? Damn, she's starting to rub off on him.

Both breathing in the same air, he does this Eskimo kiss. Which, he thinks he's done before, with her. Possibly during blackout night. And well, that earns him a smile, a real one. Teeth and all. Eyes closed. So he kisses her for real, slow, no tongue, doesn't want to push her. It's actually closed mouth, but it's just as nice, because it's with her.

He feels himself roll, slowly, on top of her, either knees beside her thighs. And okay, this could easily get out of control, like last night...

"How's your head?" he asks when they finally part, cupping her face into his rather large hand. And okay, he's getting too used to this. Which, fuck. God damn heart is doing things to him, it's not his fault. But, she just looks like this little fragile doll, he wants to take care of her. Although he's pretty sure he'd get his head eaten if he said that to her. So, yeah.

"It's uh, not bad. I mean, for a hangover. Could you get me a glass of water?" she asks, innocently.

Though he's not really, thinking straight right now. Her hands running up his sides leaving trails of shivers appearing on his skin. "Yeah." he answers, reluctantly. And he's cursing himself for asking, not that he doesn't care, oh God he does care, but it kind of broke the moment. Which okay, really sucks. So he gets up and off, heads for the bathroom. He grabs a carton cup from under the sink and fills it with water, then brings it back to her. And he's a little scared, actually, like maybe she won't even be there. Or she'll be dressed up and ready to go. Because he actually wants to spend his day off with her. Shit.

Good news, she's still there, face buried in the fluffy pillow, and ain't that a beautiful scene. Bare back glowing a little under the sun coming from the window.

"McNally," and she lifts her head up, fast, flips over in the bed and stares up at him. He smiles inwardly and brings the cup to her waiting hand. Her hair's all messy but she doesn't seem to care, and he likes that. He could really get used-

Whoa.

She downs the cup and puts it on the night table, and he's still standing there. He's still gazing intently into her eyes, and he sees her blushing, like last night. And then the memories start flashing through his mind and it's turning him on again. But he doesn't know if she remembers...

She swallows, and that simple act shouldn't turn him on, but it does. "Did we uh-" she doesn't finish her sentence, but fuck, he knows exactly the rest. She doesn't remember? Well, he shouldn't be surprised really.

"I'm kidding," she says after a beat, a little smirk appearing. So, she does remember? Maybe she wasn't that drunk. Idiot, he's still standing there. So she pulls him in, by his hand, and he looks mesmerized and it's fucking stupid. Really. Then her lips are stuck on his, and he feels the swipe of her tongue across his lips and it's so soft. She pulls him in completely, throws him on the bed, and pounces on him. It's her turn to straddle him, and shit, he usually isn't the sex in the morning type but with her, it's, well, different. That's it.

And they're both still naked, so he feels her wet heat on his stomach. Fuck, she's warm and it's amazing. She latches her mouth onto his neck and sucks. And it's possible a groan escapes his mouth, she doesn't seem to mind though. It's probably encouraging her, if all. Her hands are everywhere at once and he's really hard by now so. He can feel himself brushing against her thigh, and he imagines she knows it. Because she thrusting, and fuck, he thinks he's gonna come right then and there.

"Andy.." he tries, tapping lightly on her shoulder, but the thing is he doesn't want her to stop at all. Is that bad? Yeah it is. Because she's his fucking rookie. But he's a man for God's sake, he has his own needs.

Eventually, she pulls back, and she's got that look again. The one with no hesitation, like last night. And he's afraid he'll lose control again. Hell, he's already lost it.

"I want you." and oh, that's nice to hear. But there are a few definitions to the word "want" here. He's not sure which. Maybe she means like want him with a relationship? Uh.She doesn't give him much time to think about it because she's kissing him, all needy, and she's stroking him. Uh, okay.

He doesn't really understands this. Like, why she wants him this bad. All of a sudden. They'll talk about later, he thinks.

So he flips them over, and she does this surprised laugh. Her legs wrap around his waist, opening herself for him and fuck, he can't hold on much longer. He really just wants to shove himself deep into her and make animalistic sounds until he comes. And she's getting the hint probably, because she's guiding him inside and her heat is engulfing him. It's, really amazing. She's got this small smile playing on her lips, she just looks so beautiful. So he kisses her, slow and he's really into it here. He's acting like this sweet guy with her, which is, kind of unusual, he guesses. But he starts moving, because he wants- no, needs to. His pace isn't slow at all, more like quick deep pumps and she seems to like that by the way she's purring in his ear. He wants to hear more, so he sneaks a hand between them and finds her clit. Starts to play with it, and she's all moaning and dark eyes.

A couple of flicks later, she comes hard, gripping his shoulder tightly, and whimpering in his mouth. Which makes him even harder and fuck, it's almost unbearable. He wants to come, but he holds on. Watches her breasts dance under him, he attaches his lips to one of them and sucks softly. She digs her heels into his ass and that, fuck, that's it for him. He's gone, coming hard and groaning loudly. One hand in her hair straightening it, while he deals with the aftershocks. He's breathing into her ear, eyes closed, and she's breathing into his. Warm breath tickling his skin. She chuckles, and it's sexy. God, everything about this woman is fucking attractive. He's scared these feelings aren't going to go away when she leaves. What, Sam Swarek and feelings. That shouldn't be in the same sentence. But it is.

He slips out, and looks down at her. She's got her eyes closed, arms still clenching the sheets. He leans and kisses her forehead before he heads to shower.

He wasn't expecting her. Thought maybe she'd leave while he showered. But as her cold skinny fingers crossed his nipples and chest hairs, he thought again. So, he smiles and puts his hands over hers. Smooth skin and all, shining under the spray of water. He turns around, to see her beautiful face. And God, it's possible her face lights just this bit, he's not sure though. Maybe it's his rusty imagination playing tricks in his head. Her flawless skin reminds him just how much he's older than her. Because his face, it's much more wrinkled than before in his younger days.

He cups her face, leans in to kiss her, nothing too sexual. He actually doesn't want to spend all day in the shower. Then he'd end up looking like an old wrinkled man. Ah hell, he already is old. Too old for her, that's sure.

She washes his back with soap, and she drops kisses on his neck. Just these little pecks. Not looking for more, really. So he washes her hair with his shampoo because it's not like he has women's shampoo. He's gentle, so much that it surprises him. He's like, learning a new side of himself. A side he likes.

They finish showering and dry themselves up. She puts on some boxers he lends her and a t-shirt she finds lying on the ground. Surely from last night. Obviously.

"You hungry?" he asks, all dressed up and leaning on the door frame.

"Starving.", is her reply, as she walks towards him. She leans up and gives him a quick kiss before walking past him in the kitchen. So he follows.

He makes himself a cereal bowl while she makes this banana sandwich, which he's never heard of. They make small talk while she shuffles around in his kitchen.

Later on, they're sitting at his dining table, eating, when she blurts it out.

"You know, using scotch as mouthwash was a great idea." Sam drops his spoon and stares, mouth wide open, eyebrows up to his hairline.

A/N: Review? Suggestions are welcome!