Set at the end of "The Big Nickel." Because you know Sam was pissed with Jerry after "Girlfriend of the Year". Sam/Jerry friendship.

"Hey Sammy," Jerry said, clapping his friend on the shoulder and taking the seat next to him at the bar.

Sam didn't return his greeting; he just turned his head to stare at the hand that was on his shoulder. His eyes flicked up to meet Jerry's for a moment and then he returned his attention to the drink in front of him.

Jerry held up both his hands in innocence. "Don't be like that man, I really need your help on this Ray Swann thing."

Sam snorted. "Why don't you ask your girlfriend?"

"I would," Jerry said, eyeing Traci across the bar. "But she's not speaking to me right now," he confessed.

Sam turned on his stool to face Jerry. "I was talking about Callaghan," he said with a smirk.

Jerry raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "You're still pissed about that?"

"It just seems to me that you would rather have Callaghan's help on this thing," Sam said, shrugging. "You made it clear that you trust his judgment more than mine." He paused. "Even though I was right."

"Oh come on man," Jerry said indignantly, "give me a break. It was a tough day. We were all a little out of it."

"Yeah, well," Sam said, standing up and shrugging on his jacket, "Today wasn't exactly a walk in the park and helping you would interfere with my plan to get very drunk tonight."

"Where are you going?" Jerry said, standing to follow him.

"Home," Sam said, pushing the door to the bar open and stepping out into the cold. "I've got plenty of beer there."

Jerry moved quickly to step in front of Sam, physically blocking his path. "I get that you're pissed, but you've got to help me out here."

"I told you," Sam said, cutting around Jerry and walking towards his truck. "Get Callaghan."

"If the last time I saw him was any indication, he's probably got your rookie's legs wrapped around him right now," Jerry shot, knowing it would get Sam's attention.

Jerry watched as Sam stopped in his tracks. His shoulders tensed, his fists clenched and he rolled his neck in a way that would have actually scared Jerry if he didn't know his friend any better.

Sam turned to face him, the muscles in his neck straining. He narrowed his eyes at Jerry, as if weighing his options. Jerry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding when Sam unclenched his fists. "You're a real asshole sometimes, you know that?" Sam said after a moment.

Jerry shrugged and nodded. "I know."

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest and walked towards Jerry. "If you weren't so delicate I'd probably deck you right now."

"Delicate?" Jerry asked, offended.

"Do you prefer dainty?" Sam asked, a small smirk playing on his lips.

"I'm handsome," Jerry defended. "And not at all feminine."

"Please," Sam scoffed, "How much did those shoes cost you?"

Jerry looked down at his loafers. "They're Italian leath…" he paused. "You know what, that doesn't have anything to do Ray Swann."

"So you came to me because Callaghan's unavailable," Sam concluded.

Jerry sighed, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, Sammy. That day… with Rebecca… it was huge for me, and I couldn't screw it up."

"And you thought I would screw it up?"

"No," Jerry said. "You were saying everything I should have been saying."

Sam raised his eyebrows, waiting for Jerry to continue.

"Callaghan's a good detective and I just needed as many eyes on the case as I could. My instinct told me to go with what you were saying, but I was second guessing myself the entire day," Jerry admitted. "You've got to understand that."

Sam sighed, but relented. "Fine."

Jerry exhaled, relieved. "Thanks, man," he said. "I could really use your help with Swann. I've been looking over it for hours and I know I'm missing something."

"You're lucky Swann is such a bastard," Sam said, turning to walk towards the station. "Otherwise I'd be headed home right now."

"I know," Jerry said, catching up with him. When he met Sam's stride he reached out to thump the other man on the back. "Thank you."

"I've got a couple of drinks in me," Sam told him. "I can't promise anything."

"You're smarter than me even when you're loaded."

Sam smirked, "That's true."

The two men walked in silence until Sam asked, "Why isn't Nash talking to you?"

Jerry groaned just thinking about what he had said. "I may have brought up how Jennifer used to take care of all my case files." He paused, "And I may have insinuated that her son was using my notes as a coloring book."

Sam stopped walking and turned towards Jerry. "You really are an asshole, aren't you?"

Jerry just nodded. "I know. I'll apologize to her later." They reached the station and Jerry held the door open for Sam. "I'm really sorry, man."

"I know," Sam said, heading for Jerry's office. "Let's just get this done and get out of here."

After settling into two desk chairs, Jerry looked over at his friend. "I want you to know, I really appreciate this."

"I swear to God, Jerry," Sam said, not looking up from the papers he was reading. "If you start crying, I'm out of here."

Jerry laughed, "We're good though, right?"

"Yeah brother," Sam said, looking up, "We're good."