ROOKIE BLUE (isn't mine)


Reading all your stories day after day, that gave me this crazy idea...


He put his wet towel inside his bag and left the locker room. He was worn out. Three days in a row with Epstein, that was so much he could take. And he thought that McNally was a bit of a talker? Epstein would not stop yapping all day long just about anything. The patrol car, the number on the patrol car, the bad guys of the day, the fact that the lights would turn green or red, he simply kept rambling on, that was a nightmare. And he could not help but miss Andy. She was stuck at the desk for a week now that Nash was back on active duty after splitting with her ex-again boyfriend. He walked across the bullpen, attempting to get a glimpse of her without being obvious. She was engulfed in her work. He could resist about anything but temptation. It was a surprise that he could get so close without her noticing him.

In front of her sat a thick stack of printed sheets and she was turning the pages regularly, her face reflecting emotions alien to policing work. He stopped before the desk. She did not even move, lost in her reading. He tried to have a peek of one of the discarded pages, but since he was not ready to go and see an ophthalmologist just yet, he could not make head or tails of the blurred prints.

"McNally! Come on, time to pack," he said, startling her. "Let me buy you a drink."

She raised her head, looking like a deer caught in headlights and blinked. "Sam? Is it 8 already?" she tucked her hair behind her ear and frowned. "Where is everyone?" She turned around and a pile of paper cascaded to the floor.

"Let me help you with that and go get changed." He sat his bag on the desk, walked around the counter and crouched by her side.

"No, no, don't, I can do it!" She dropped on her knees and grabbed a handful of sheets that she pressed to her chest with a desperate smile. "I can do it!"

But his curiosity was piqued. He picked a page from the floor and read. And read again. He stared at her with a large grin. "Care to explain? What's all that stuff?"

"I… You… It's nothing."

"More than 300 pages of nothing," he said, his eyes fanning the floor and the desk, "as far as I can tell."

She sat on the floor, and proceeded to gather the rest. "You really want to know?" She chewed on her lower lip. "I'm not sure you're going to like it."

"Try me," he sat beside her, reading through several more pages. "A Time to Love? Conversations in the Car? Her Own Rules? What's all that? Did you write that stuff?"

"Of course not. I'm just reading it."

"From the size of the pile, you're quite a reader…"

"Sam, I'm sure that you know about the pool?"

"Yeah, sure. About you and Callaghan?"

"And you!" she poked a finger into his chest. "Don't forget it's all about who's gonna get the girl."

"Actually, it's all about who's gonna get the girl in the end, McNally." She felt her cheekbones burn. "How can I forget when I put practically all my money in that pool already!"

She chuckled. "Well, I guess that some female officers and probably detectives as well decided they weren't interested in your little pool as much as fantasizing about us."


"Dov found it. He googled us..."

"… googled us?"

"Search us on the Internet. I know that you're technology impaired but everyone does that!"

"Do they? God Andy, I told you already, if I can keep my hands away from any computer, I'm a happy man."

"Really? But…"

"Really. I'm not good with them. Why do you think I accepted to train a rookie? Less paperwork and practically no computer encounter. All set for a solid year."

"But I'm not your rookie any more."

"Well, I figured since I'm your partner and that you like me," he grinned, "you could take care of that now that you've got the hang of it."

"No!" she punched his arm teasingly.

"You don't like me?"

She went beet red. "We should share."

"Yeah, sharing is good," he smirked. She caught him glancing at Callaghan who was currently striding through the bullpen with a bunch of files in his hands, oblivious of Andy and her partner hidden behind the desk. His eyes darted back to hers. She bit her lip self-consciously. "What?" he snapped gently.

"I don't know," she teased him. "Since you're not computer sassy, maybe you would like me to help you. In case you might want to have a look."

"Depends," he said carefully. "Could you elaborate? I'm a solid cop, but I'm not psychic."

"Well, it's… embarrassing, well, sort of. You remember retraining day?"

"You would refer to me acting like a complete moron with your colleague with benefits?"

"Something along those lines, yes. Well, these women, they put together this great site and they have been writing stories about us and posting them since I tackled you in that alley."

"You mean female police are actually turning into writers and they write about us? Why?"

"Well, I guess it's more challenging than knitting."

"You definitely have a point. Keep going."

"It had been exponential since retraining day. And they even have like challenges!"

"They write their stories, and now it's on the Internet?"

"Yeah, and there's quite a bunch actually. You want to see?"

"Nope. But there's one thing I'd like to know. Are they about you and Luke?"

She looked down and felt red creeping up her cheeks. She shook her head. "Their favourite pairing seems to be us. I mean you and me."

"Is that so?" he teased her.

"Especially after we went to Sudbury together," she added.

He looked puzzled. "Really? Why? Nothing happened in Sudbury."

"They don't know that," she blurted out.

"Interesting," he said softly. His dark eyes were set on her mouth. She looked away, and got up briskly, clenching to the pages she had picked up form the floor. He shrugged and his voice went back to its normal pitch. "So McNally, fancy a drink?" he asked. "Need a ride home? Unless you've got to catch up on your reading," he chuckled.

"I'll stop reading when you stop putting your money into that stupid pool."

"Why on earth would I do that McNally? There's no way I can lose!"