Basking in the warm afternoon sunlight that streamed in through open windows, Andy closed her eyes in satisfaction as she hungrily forked up another mouthful of omelet and chewed happily. Sitting cross-legged in the center of her bed, clad in only Nick's previously abandoned t-shirt, the plate which contained the glorious delicacy (in her mind at least) balanced precariously on a bare knee.

The heat from the hot food had warmed the flesh nearly to the point of discomfort, but there was no way she would part with it until it was gone.

Sprawled on his side next to her, Nick couldn't help the amused snorts he emitted as he watched her eat. Propping his head in one hand and taking a sip of his now lukewarm coffee with the other, an eyebrow lifted as she polished off the last of the breakfast (although it was long into the afternoon, it had taken several hours and a cold shower before either of them had thought to leave the bedroom. And even then, they both reluctantly agreed only because there was only so long Andy could function in the morning without food or coffee). Nick couldn't help the full fledge laugh that arose as a crestfallen look crossed her face.

Scowling at him playfully, she quickly set the plate aside and snatched his mug from him, ignored his bemused protests and took a huge gulp. Vilified when a look of disgust crossed her face, Nick easily returned the mug to his possession and set it on the bedside table.

"That should teach you to mess with my coffee," Nick snarked, rubbing his shoulder when she punches him.

"Not cool," she mutters, peering at him through slitted eyes. He is reminded of a jungle cat in that instant. When she pounces, the picture sharpens and a hot rush of emotion swirls in Nick's chest. It sharpens as well, stabbing right at the heart, when she kisses him freely and joyfully, without hesitation.

As he leans in to deepen the kiss, a thudding sound reverberates through her apartment and he groans into her soft lips. She sighs loudly and rests her forehead against his.

"If we don't move, maybe they'll go away," she whispers to him hopefully and he nods minutely.

Seconds later, a few more sharp raps reach their ears.

Andy punches the pillow next to her and sits up (Nick follows unconsciously, before flopping on his back at the absence of warmth), sliding from the bed. Reaching to the floor, she hunts for a pair of semi clean sweats that linger on the floor; upon finding some, she shimmies her way into them and quirks an eyebrow at the way Nick stares at her.

She wags a finger at him with a smirk, tossing his jeans at his face when she finds them among the wreckage. He fumbles with them, indignation flashing across his face. She just laughs at the picture and slips from her bedroom, leaving him to his own devices.

Moving silently through her apartment, she can't help the secretive smile that graces her lips as she takes in the broken lamp and items of clothes still scattered across the floor. Toeing her shirt out from the lounge chair (so that's where it went!), she kicks it away and it skids out of sight into the kitchen.

Straightening the oversized shirt she sports and scraping her hair up into a loose ponytail, she takes a breath and moves to her door. Rising to her toes, she peeks through the peephole.

And freezes.

Dropping to the flats of her feet, she presses her forehead to the door and closes her eyes tightly.

Why?

Why now?

Why him?

This sucks.

Resting a hand on the doorknob, she flinches when the pounding echoes through the wood. But this time, it's accompanied by a voice.

"Common McNally, I know you're in there," Sam calls out. She can almost picture the look of annoyance tinged with worry as he leans against the frame.

She twists the doorknob and pulls it open.

Sam, hand raised to knock one more time, stares back, blinking at her sudden appearance.

Andy simply raises an eyebrow in questioning, leaning casually in the doorway to block any entrance.

"I… um… wanted to see if you were alright," he says, the awkwardness of the queries Andy once considered adorable, now grating.

"Fine. Why do you ask?" she responds darkly.

As they stand there, she can see his eyes dart across the apartment, taking in the broken lamp, knocked over furniture and the tail ends of clothing. Then his gaze moves to her and what he sees is her standing in another man's shirt, face practically glowing. He isn't a detective for nothing. He knows what he's seeing and it burns.

It doesn't help that Nick emerges from the hallway in only his jeans and freezes when he sees who's at the door.

Cue the silence.

Something dark crosses Sam's face and it crumbles around his heart.

"Nevermind," he growls and spins on his heel.

And like the wind, he is gone.

Andy shuts the door and drops her head in her hands. Seconds later there are warm arms wrapping loosely around her abdomen. Nick's head rests on her shoulder as he pulls her to his chest.

"Are you okay?" he breathes into her ear.

The answer, which emerges, is surprising to both of them.

"Yeah. I think I am."

Turning in the circle of his arms, Andy peers up into his face and sees nothing but love and worry, a mixture she wants to see only half of. "I'm okay," she repeats. And she leans in and kisses him gently, barely a ghost of pressure.

The light returns to his eyes.

"So," she whispers craftily, kissing him once more, "where were we?"

Both their smiles beam.

More cotton candy fluff. It's affecting my brain.

All I see is fluff. Everywhere!

This can be seen (if you wish) as a companion piece to my other fluff, Haze.

I just can't get over the wonderful canon that is McCollins!