Note: To my fellow Canadians, HAPPY CANADA DAY!
Chapter Seven: Out Of My Head
"Agh," Sam groans, restless in his sleepy state, feeling as if his head is about to explode.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty," Monica jokes, handing him some aspirin and a huge glass of water.
"Hmmm," he comments appreciatively, taking the pills and water from her hands. "What are you doing here?"
"Oliver called. Apparently I'm the first number on your cell."
He pops all the pills in his mouth and takes a large gulp of water.
"My head is pounding."
"Well, of course it is, silly. You got very, very drunk last night."
"See what I mean? You don't even remember what happened, do you?"
"God, something happened?" He gestures 'between us'?
Monica narrows her eyes at him, offended. "No, but what if something had?"
"Do we have to do this now?" Sam points to his throbbing head.
"I don't know, Sam," she says. "When would be a good time for you?"
"We're not dating. So thanks for taking care of me, but I can handle everything from here on out."
"Fine," she says, angrily, and slams the front door behind her.
"Hey Sammy," Oliver greets him cheerfully the same morning. "How's your head?"
"Do you have to talk so loud?"
Every time someone speaks all Sam hears is THUMP THUMP THUMP. He wishes today is over already, and yet, it hasn't even really begun. In the end, he doesn't remember who hands him the coffee, but he's eternally grateful. He spaces again once assignments are handed out, and he's glad that today he has the choice of staying in the barn and finishing paperwork. Honestly, he has no intention of doing any work today. Not unless forced, anyways. He's already starting by lying his head on his desk, only to be awoken minutes later by Callaghan. Damn it.
"Sam, can I talk to you for a minute?"
All eyes are on Sam and Callaghan, no one trying to hide their surprise or curiosity that the latter is attempting contact after what the barn is dubbing 'the incident.'
"Yeah, whatever. This about Andy?"
He nods. "Can we talk over there?" Callaghan nods to an empty interrogation room.
Sam raises his eyebrows at the suggestion, but doesn't mock the detective's need for privacy. Once the door is shut, Sam turns to Callaghan.
"I want to call a truce."
"Yeah, you know, a sort of cease-fire. For Andy's sake. She's in a...delicate state right now."
"Fine. Anything for Andy," Sam tells him sarcastically. "Are we done here? I think I have hives from being in a room with you for so long."
"Very mature, Sammy. Okay, how about we just not fight around Andy?"
"Whatever you say, D."
Surprisingly, only a cold shower was needed for Andy to wake up from her misery. Now, whenever she hears Maroon 5's "I am in misery/There ain't no other who can comfort me?/Why won't you answer me/The silence is slowly killing me," she doesn't sing along as if the sky is falling. Come Monday morning she is going to need all the cheerfulness she can get when she goes to her mandatory psychiatric appointment.
Mid-cut, Andy hears the distinctive turning of the lock on her front door, and she holds up the knife - just in case. Seconds after Luke enters, she releases the death grip on the knife, and relaxes.
"Hey sweetie," Luke kisses the top of her head when he returns home from work on Friday evening. "How do you feel today?"
"Much better. I actually had the energy to put away some boxes, so almost half the living room is clear."
Looking around, Luke observes, "Yeah, I can see that."
He thought that staring at the contents of his fridge would change things. Unfortunately, all he has is some mouldy cheddar, two slices of week old pizza, and ketchup. Definitely not dinner worthy. Especially after an unexpected day. Sam couldn't believe that after Callaghan left the room, everything started to turn to hell. What he believed was going to be a slow day turned into day long supervision of an overcrowded concert hall, one domestic disturbance call, and two B & E's. He figures, kill me now.
"I'll order an order of spicy vegetables, kung pao chicken, chicken fried rice, one egg roll, one spring roll, fortune cookies and a can of diet coke."
The luminescence from the TV lulls Sam to sleep, as he's grateful for his headache to be almost gone and the day to be almost over.
"Hey," Andy says to him, breathless.
He looks in his darkened apartment, amused. "Yeah."
Andy looks uncomfortable, as if she knows she shouldn't be here, and yet really, really wants to be at the same time.
"You want to talk?" Sam asks.
"No," she barely shakes her head, as she shoves him against the wall in his hallway, cupping his face in her hands, hot breath on his face, her lips crushed against his...
The knocking on his door wakes him up from his reverie, just when he thought he was going to get lucky.
"Oh?" he leans against his doorframe, disappointed. "It's you."