A/N- I haven't written any fanfiction in a very long time but last night's episode "Bullet Proof" started a little plot bunny in my head which grew much larger than I ever intended. I hope that you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own "Rookie Blue" and while this is an original interpretation of the material, several lines of dialogue were encorporated into the story verbatim.


Sam tossed his keys on the counter and flopped down on his couch.

"This is just great!" he grumbled to himself, thinking back over the events of the day.

A day which had started out very badly or very well depending on whether you started counting when he woke up with double-vision and a blinding headache or several hours earlier when he had taken Jerry for all of his money and his facial hair at the poker table.

Sam got up and pulled a bottle of scotch from a rather empty cupboard containing a few dusty cans of chilli and a package of instant noodles.

It was a good thing that Andy had insisted on feeding him since he had used the last of his eggs that morning to make some god-awful hangover concoction that Shaw had sworn by.

As a result, his fridge was stocked with nothing other than an incomplete six-pack, a week old container of takeaway curry, some milk, a slab of butter, and several varieties of barbecue sauce.

It had been over a month since his cover had been blown and he had moved back into his apartment but he hadn't bothered to resume basic household tasks like grocery shopping, general cleaning, and taking out the recycling, except when necessity dictated.

It was like a return to normalcy would force him to admit to himself that he was back for good and wasn't just biding his time until he could go undercover again and finish the job that he had sacrificed eight months of his life and a girlfriend to complete. The truth was, that despite all of that, he had actually enjoyed being back on patrol.

"Damn you, McNally" he muttered.

At least the bottle of scotch was mostly full. He poured himself a glass but one sniff of the strong alcohol sent his still tender stomach reeling and he placed it back on the counter un-tasted.

He had been determined to hate her for ruining his cover but there was something about her that was so earnest and sincere that it was like trying to hate a kitten.

The girl had even managed to engage him in her emotional ups and downs and her successes and failures as she tenaciously attempted to prove herself a worthy police officer.

Maybe, as Shaw had implied, he was giving her more attention than he had ever given to a rookie before but she was going to be a good cop and he was simply doing his duty as her training officer to make sure that she reached her full potential. He pulled the milk from the fridge and took a swig directly from the carton.

It didn't hurt that she was beautiful...and intelligent...and caring...and funny...and exactly not his type which was exactly the problem.

Andy McNally had gotten under his skin and he didn't know how to get her out. Worse, he wasn't sure that he wanted to.

Damn you McNally was right. Sam threw the carton in frustration. It hit the wall with a satisfying thwack.

Milk splattered in big drops across the floor and dripped down his cabinet. Feeling slightly better, he sighed and grabbed a washcloth.

He should probably clean it up. While he was at it, he might as well wipe down the counters and deal with the empty takeout containers that were festering by the sink.

In the morning, he might even consider going to the grocery store.


Popping Tylenol like they were Tic-Tacs had only served to mute the pounding in his head to a constant dull throb.

As a result, he hadn't been in the best mood when he arrived at work that morning. He was glad to have been paired with Andy.

He didn't think that he could have handled any of the other rookies especially the crazy one or the ingratiating princess who wore too much make up.

Still, he hadn't even summoned the energy to care when Callahan had asked to have McNally for the day, something he usually would have taken great pleasure in denying.

If Callahan wanted a rookie puppy to follow him around, that was fine with Sam.

It meant that he was free to spend the day riding a desk and wallowing in his misery in the way that only a grown man with a hangover can.


Sam spent the morning successfully rearranging stacks of reports and paper into piles on his desk.

He was staring blankly at a list of evidence, when his cell phone rang obnoxiously, causing fireworks to explode through his vision. He glanced at the caller ID. "What?" he grunted into the phone.

"I need your help." Andy begged through the phone.

"I thought you were with Callahan." He replied rubbing his eyes.

"Yea well he left me in charge of guarding some evidence. Well it's a witness actually...It's a witness with some evidence." Her voice seemed to penetrate deep into his brain opening up new chambers of discomfort.

"McNally, I already have a headache."

"Look I lost the witness, okay. And, and the doctor said he was going to be asleep for hours." Jeez, the kid really was a rookie.

"The doctor said? The doctor's not a cop. Where's Callahan?"

"Ok listen, I have to find this kid before Luke finds out I lost him." Her familiar use of Callahan's first name annoyed him and she hadn't answered his question.

"And I care because?" Sam said smugly, already suspecting that he was going to break down and help her at any second.

"You care because..." The volume of her voice was creating an amazing cacophony in his head and he found it difficult to process more than a few words of her speech.

"Mumble, mumble, Boyko, mumble carjacking, mumble, training officer, mumble, mumble, office, mumble, scream."

In Sam's fuzzy brain, something seemed wrong. Wasn't McNally Callahan's problem today? Shouldn't he be dealing with this?

But formulating that thought into a coherent sentence seemed far more effort and far less likely to stop the reverberation that this conversation was causing in his skull than just going along with whatever she wanted.

"Alright, alright calm down. What do you need?" He said softly, hoping that she would take the hint and follow his lead. She was too worked up and began to jabber again rapidly.

"Ok. Luke brought in this kid named Benjamin Kelly and all of his personal effects are in booking. See if you can find his cell phone."

"Jeez." Booking was all the way at the other end of the station which meant that he was going to have to walk at least 50 metres.

"Oh and um, Luke took the car so could you pick me up?" Sam took the phone away from his ear and stared at it.

Obviously his big "I didn't ask to train a rookie. I am not your boyfriend. I am not going to hold your hand." Speech on his first day as her TO hadn't left a big impression.

"Please?"

About as big an impression as her self-proclaimed "I don't date cops" policy apparently, he thought bitterly. Speaking of which, where had that tool Callahan gone? And why, on today of all days, did he have to be the one to help clean up Andy's mess so that "Luke" wouldn't be disappointed in her?

"Uh-huh. Yea" he said rather non-committaly. He slapped the phone closed and revelled in the momentary silence.

Then he pushed back his chair and stood up. Of course, he was going to go to the hospital and pick her up like he was picking up a kid at soccer practice.

He couldn't look at these papers any more anyways and getting some fresh air would probably be helpful. Besides, she was his rookie, no one else's, and he was responsible for her.


When Sam rolled into the hospital parking lot, he spotted Andy sitting on a bench outside the hospital looking cute and worried, her eyes darting around in expectation that at any moment Luke would roll into the parking lot in his navy sedan and bust her.

The relieved, almost giddy, look on her face when she recognised that it was his trucked stopped in front of her made it almost worth the effort.

"Thank you so much, sir." She said climbing up into the cab.

He glanced over as she adjusted herself in the seat. He kind of liked having her there as long as she didn't try to touch the radio.

"Why aren't you driving the squad car?" She asked fastening her seatbelt.

"I didn't think I would be needing it today." He said, looking at her.

"Sorry. I know I am supposed to be with Callahan today. Thank you so much for helping me. I really appreciate it." She paused, "but where is the car?"

"Shaw thought it would be a good idea to let Diaz and Peck take it for a joy ride. Their giggling was exacerbating our...uh...condition." He said, motioning towards his head.

Andy thought about that for a moment before launching full on into her worried crisis mode.

"So, did you get the phone?"

He reached into his pocket and handed it to her. She grabbed it enthusiastically and began clicking through the buttons. "Someone named Keisha Simmons is at the top of the speed dial list. Maybe we should try and talk to her."

"Way ahead of you, McNally. I've already arranged to have her brought down to the station for an interview."

"Sir, has anyone ever told you that you are the best training officer ever?"

Sam just grunted in response. The Tylenol, which had made the drive to the hospital almost bearable, was beginning to wear off and the green of the stop lights was making his eyes vibrate strangely.

Silence settled in the car. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Andy fidgeting nervously and glancing over at him. It only took a minute for her to feel compelled to break the peaceful quiet with small talk.

"So, did anything exciting happen at the station this morning?"

"McNally, if you hadn't noticed, I've sort of been trying to avoid excitement this morning. Although, with you around that seems a little hard to do."

"I'm sorry, Sir." She said, sinking back into her seat sheepishly. She'd misunderstood. He hadn't meant it harshly.

"Andy", he said softly, "I'm your training officer. Any time that you need help or advice, I'm here for you. I don't want you to be afraid to ask."

"I thought that you weren't here to hold my hand Officer Swarek" she deadpanned.

Apparently, his speech hadn't fallen on entirely deaf ears. He smiled but decided that that particular contortion was not something that his face was ready for yet.

"That day, I was still a little touchy about my cover being blown. I might have said some things that weren't entirely true." A little smile formed on her lips and a blush crept up her cheeks.

Before she could speak, he continued. "Now, if you don't mind, my head is killing me so can we please have a nice, noiseless ride back to the barn?"

TBC (Probably)