Author's Notes: This is the final installment in "You Can Let Go". Once again, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your patience. I hope you enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm returning them to the sandbox right after this.

Last time:

"Well, McNally, since you arranged for this mini-vacation, what do you want to do first?" Sam rumbles back, his eyes dropping involuntarily to her lips.
Andy's about to say "Sightseeing!" when her stomach rumbles loudly; Sam blinks at her for a second before he bursts out laughing and she can feel her cheeks get hot with embarrassment.
"Food it is!" he pronounces as he takes the laptop from her and stows it safely away back in their luggage, before coming back to herd her towards the door. "Let's get some food into you before you decide to take a bite out me instead."
He really shouldn't have left her such an opening and Andy just can't resist the reply that springs to her lips, "While you are definitely good enough to eat, I was thinking more along the lines of some nibbling, and maybe a lick or two. But, y'know, if you really want to be bitten...?"
She keeps walking, struggling to maintain a straight face when Sam stops dead with an arrested expression on his face. He recovers quickly, but his eyes are so heated that it makes her insides clench and her underwear get damp. "Not really a fan of bites," he murmurs in her ear when he catches up, "but you really can't go wrong with a good set of claw marks."
It's Andy's turn now to grind to a sudden halt as Sam smirks and she swallows hard. Whoa, Nellie, I've created a monster.
He reverses and hooks an arm around her shoulders to propel her forward again. "Coming?"
Not yet.

Takedown (2/2)

After an excellent early dinner in one of the restaurants downstairs, they retreat back to their suite for some relaxation time. Now that they have all day tomorrow to explore to Andy's heart's content, neither feels the need to go out when they have time to recover from the past few days. Andy digs the laptop out again – this time to play a few games – while Sam channel-surfs for something decent to watch and they easily arrange themselves comfortably on the sofa.

This kind of dynamic is new to Andy – she's not used to spending so much time fully clothed with a man she's so attracted to without doing everything she can think of to get him naked – and she attributes this level of comfort to the many, many hours spent in the same squad car, honestly getting to know him without the distraction of sex.

He's fairly close-lipped about his past, other than a brief insight here and there – like when he told her about Sarah and her attack, his motivations for going to the police academy rather than anywhere or anything else he could have done – but those things are mostly details. Andy knows Sam, she knows every expression on his face, knows what he's thinking just by the look in his eyes, can identify just how pissed off he is by how hard his hands and jaw are clenched, knows that when he goes utterly still and his voice goes flat and that vein in his temple starts to throb that it's time to duck and cover.

And Sam knows the same sorts of things about her, which is why they make such a formidable team. Andy is struck by the thought that over the past six months of being work partners, they've managed to almost completely bypass that getting-to-know-you BS that accompanies the first few weeks and months of dating.

They already know all the really important stuff, the rest is just details, which explains why it's so easy for Andy to settle mostly sideways on the couch, leaning her back into Sam's side as he lifts his closest arm to make a comfortable spot for her to rest in without comment or demur.

After a few hours of mind-numbing television, the long drive catches up with Sam and he finds himself yawning more and more frequently. Eventually, he can't take it anymore and rises to stretch with a monster yawn; Andy watches, a bit put out that her backrest has been taken away, but not too annoyed since his t-shirt is also riding up to expose a strip of smooth, lightly tanned skin that she has the sudden, insane desire to lick.

"I'm going to bed," he says, as if she hasn't already figured that part out. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to her brow, "Don't stay up too late."

Andy is surprised by the abrupt and unsolicited display of affection, but she isn't about to complain any time soon. She recovers in time to wrinkle her nose at him, and teasingly say, "Yes, Daddy."

Sam makes a face at her – he feels a lot of things for her, and none of them are in the least bit paternal – and heads into the bedroom to get ready for bed. He normally sleeps naked, but having a female that he is most certainly not having sex with (yet) sleep nearby has temporarily halted that habit, and he changes into a pair of soft, well-worn, flannel pajama pants before going to brush his teeth in the obscenely large bathroom.

He climbs into the huge bed, a bit frustrated by the fact that the foot faces the door and he thus can't sleep on the side closest to it, and slowly drifts off to the soft sounds from the television, muffled by the bedroom door, in the background.

Andy doesn't last too much longer now that her warm, comfortable backrest has gone to bed, and turns the TV off less than an hour later. She leaves the laptop plugged in to recharge the battery and makes sure that their cell phones are also charging before stealing into the bedroom as quietly as she can.

Sam is a self-acknowledged light sleeper, especially when it comes to unexpected sounds and intruders, so Andy is positively shocked when he seems to instinctively realize that the person sneaking in is just her and merely rolls over. She collects her sleep-clothes and toiletries from her bag and heads into the bathroom to change and get ready for bed.

She's almost finished her night-time rituals when she hears an unusual sound coming from the bedroom. It's like a groan mixed with a whimper and it makes her frown as she tries to figure out what it could be. It's only when she hears her own name combined with a loud "No!" that Andy realizes that Sam is having a nightmare and she finishes braiding her hair as rapidly as she can. She's tying it off when she opens the door; the bathroom light illuminates the bedroom and makes Sam's thrashing form clear.

Andy turns the light off, knowing that she's probably not going to get another chance to, and hustles to the bed, leaning over him as she touches his face and shoulders. And promptly gets knocked on her ass by a flailing arm.

Okay, then. She knows it's time to abandon the subtle approach and times her next move carefully – during the next opening he gives her, Andy not only jumps on the bed but on Sam too, lying full-length on top of him as she curls her fingers around the back of his head. "Sam? Sam, listen to me," she murmurs in his ear as his thrashing already starts to wane.

"I'm right here, Sam, you protected me. I'm okay, I'm fine. Are you listening to me, Sam? What are you seeing?"

"Dead," he grits out, and she really doesn't like the broken sound of his voice.

"Me, dead? By who; with what?"

A tear escapes the corner of his eye, coursing down the side of his head to dampen her hand. "Shot," he says finally. "The pedophile."

Andy lets her head drop to the pillow and considers her options - curing him of the fear of her being shot is a lot simpler than if he'd been dreaming of Ray Swann - and eventually decides on urging him to roll over with her so he's the one on top, and she arranges them so that his dark head rests on her chest, with his ear resting directly over her heart. "Listen to my heartbeat, Sam. Can you hear it?"

He's already calming, his breaths slowing, and she can feel his muscles gradually relax as she tenderly strokes his hair and down his back. Andy grabs his left hand and places it next to his nose on the smooth, unmarred skin of her upper chest. "Feel it, Sam; look, no bullet holes. You saved me, Sam, even if you don't think so. You're always saving me, especially from myself."

Sam's hand twitches as the fingers gently palpate her flesh, feeling the unmarked skin. Andy can tell that he's already drifting back off, having confirmed for himself that she is whole and hale, and knows that since he never came fully awake he probably won't remember this come morning. She wriggles a little bit, trying to find a comfortable position with Sam's bulk weighing her down. He's heavy with muscle, having regained the weight he lost while undercover (since it's rather difficult to be a believable drug addict who's one missed rent payment away from being on the street that doesn't lose weight over time), but Andy is so glad to be the comforter for once, instead of the comfortee, that she'll let him use her as a pillow for as long as he'll allow it.

Andy has never been a cuddler - she's rather like most men in that respect in that she gets what she wants with no messy emotions to screw things up - but for the first time ever, the weight of somebody else (that isn't currently pounding her into the mattress) is reassuring, and she follows Sam into the arms of Morpheus with speed.

When Andy wakes, she's lying on her side with Sam spooned tightly behind her. A weight rests across her body and closer investigation proves that it's his arm, and a warm palm is cupping her breast through her tank-top. She grins and stretches, unconsciously rubbing her behind into Sam's impressive case of morning-wood. Behind her, Sam takes a deep breath and flexes the hand holding her breast as he hugs her more closely to him.

A sigh gusts across the back of Andy's neck, raising gooseflesh in its wake, and Sam husks her name before leaning in to very lightly nuzzle the exposed skin of her shoulder.

Several things happen at once: Andy stiffens like a board, her nipples pebble into tightly furled buds, her head leans to one side of its own volition to give him more room to play, and heat starts to rapidly pool in her lower belly. She honestly wouldn't be surprised if her panties just burst into flames.

Sam uses his nose and lips to nuzzle his way up and down the side of her neck and the top and back of her shoulder while Andy shivers with drowsy delight, arousal simmering through her veins. She's distantly aware that they really shouldn't be doing this, but for the life of her she can't remember why. Increasingly awake, she shifts restively, rubbing her thighs together to relieve the pressure. (It doesn't work.)

"Sam," she hisses between clenched teeth, feeling his erection gently thrust against her bottom. She honestly can't stop herself from thrusting back - it's the gym all over again, but this time they won't be interrupted. Andy rolls onto her back, one hand reaching for the hem of her shirt and the other ready to yank him down into the hottest kiss of his entire life, morning breath be damned.

Only to find empty air and an unobstructed view of the ceiling. What the hell? There's a soft snore to her left and the bed shifts as Sam rolls over to present her with his back.


Here she is, so turned on her underwear is all but soaking, more than ready for earth-shattering sex, and he's asleep?! She aches to be filled by the hard shaft that's been taunting and enticing her since her first brief encounter with it the night of the blackout, to feel his mouth somewhere other than her lips and neck, to have those gun-callused hands stroking naked flesh unimpeded by clothing, and he doesn't even have the decency to be awake when she's ready to seal the deal, as it were.

Andy huffs with aggravation and stalks off to the bathroom for a cold shower. A snuffle from the bed has her turning in time to see Sam shift onto his back, exposing perfect pectorals and abdominals as one of those capable hands comes to rest on his stomach, just above his navel.

Make that an ice bath.


Despite her early morning wind-up and subsequent let-down, Andy and Sam spend an enjoyable day together. They have nothing to do and nowhere to be for the first time since they met, and the concept takes some getting used to. After a delicious room-service breakfast they take to the streets, dressed similarly in jeans, t-shirts, sneakers, and black leather jackets. About two blocks from the hotel Sam curves his arm around Andy's shoulders, ignoring her minute twitch.

What he can't ignore, however, is the hand that she slips into the back pocket of his jeans. He glances sharply in her direction but she is very determinedly not looking back at him, though he can see the corners of her lips fighting a smile. Okay fine, if that's the way she's going to play it, let the games begin.

His plan to slowly drive her crazy is simple but effective. Unfortunately for him, Sam fails to take into account that his plan drives him crazy, too. There's hand-holding, touching (and lots of it), squeezing closely together to take pictures of themselves in front of Parliament, feeding each other bites off their plates at lunch, but for Sam the best and worst part is when she drags him into a lingerie store and sits him in the Boyfriend Chair while she models increasingly skimpy and sexy sets of underwear.

He's all but squirming in his seat by the time she deigns to end the torture, and has to concede that she wins this round rather handily, if deviously. Fully dressed again, Andy makes sure that Sam sees her carry his favorite three sets to the register and cocks an eyebrow at him as she pulls out her credit card.

As soon as they exit the store, Sam drags her into the closest alley he can find and almost shoves her back against the wall as his lips fuse to hers. The kiss is aggressive - he's aggressive - and Andy responds with equal ferocity. Just the memory of the hot, dark look in his eyes as he watched her strut around in nothing but lace and silk makes her shiver and fist her hands in his shirt. If he was wearing a tie, it would be wrapped around her hand right now.

Eventually, Sam regains enough of his sanity to rip himself away from her, breathing hard, and his pupils are so dilated that his eyes look black even in the mid-afternoon sunshine. "You wanna go back to the hotel?" he suggests.

Andy steps in and fits her body against his, feeling his erection press into her belly, and cups her hands around the back of his neck before leaning in to kiss him sweetly. "A few more hours? I'll be good, I promise."

Sam takes her lips in a kiss that is drugging in its intensity, tangling his tongue with hers and exploring her mouth more thoroughly than her dentist ever does. It's a reminder of what she's asking for a rain-check on, but he doesn't refuse. "The things I do for you, McNally," he teases, his voice husky with barely leashed desire.

"And I appreciate every one of them," Andy proclaims back with the winsome smile of someone who is getting what they want. Sam takes the bag of untold delights and tortures from her and guides her back onto the street, though the only other contact he permits between them is a simple tangling of fingers. She can't blame him; if his hand goes anywhere else she might just explode from sheer unfulfilled need.

They continue their exploration of Ottawa and by the time their stomachs start to want food the blaze of lust raging through their bloodstreams has lessened to a constant smolder. Andy and Sam debate dinner options before taking a risk by hailing a cab and hoping that the driver knows a good place for a private-ish meal.

The cabbie drops them off at a popular steakhouse, if the full parking lot is any indication. Despite how busy the restaurant is, they're quickly shown to a table near the back that offers the illusion of privacy and also has the added benefit of having a decent view of the entrances and exits.

By the time their drinks arrive, they're ready to order. Andy considers pretending to be the substance-less Bambi Sam first accused her of being, but she's too hungry to play games and so she orders a full steak dinner. Aside from the fact that there's no fooling him at this point - after six months, he is more than aware of her dietary preferences; she doesn't bother being too concerned with calories – she's been blessed with an excellent metabolism and the job keeps her active enough that she doesn't generally have to work too hard to keep any extra pounds off – and grins when Sam orders the same thing.

The meal is excellent – the food is perfectly cooked and full of flavor, their waiter is attentive but doesn't hover as he keeps their glasses filled, and the conversation flows easily without the time constraints of grabbing a meal while on duty, or the pressures of their assorted coworkers and friends. The tension that has always existed between them is still there, simmering under the surface, but it's all overlaid with an ease that is new for them.

It's just them - no job, no rules, no Luke, no other distractions that have always kept them from being completely comfortable with each other. It's this relaxation that lets Andy order a decadent chocolate mousse cheesecake for dessert without having to worry about giving somebody the wrong idea. A forkful of the sinful treat disappears between her lips with a moan of delight.

Sam is instantly transfixed, watching Andy enjoy her dessert with shameless abandon as her pink tongue darts out to lick the tines of the fork clean. "Sam, you gotta try this," she insists, holding her laden fork out to him. To be honest, he's not much of a chocolate fan but right now, at this moment, she could ask him to jump off a bridge and he'd ask her 'how high?'. Instead of taking the utensil from her, as she seems to expect, Sam grips her hand to bring the tasty bite closer.

Flavor explodes across his tongue as the light, fluffy mousse practically dissolves in his mouth, leaving behind a taste of raspberries and a hint of something extra that he can't identify. "That is good," he admits after he swallows. "That's really good."

Andy shares the cheesecake with him, feeding him bites in between her own murmurs and moans of chocolate rapture. Sam thinks that her obvious enjoyment should be illegal, but reconsiders when he remembers that he would never get to witness this bit of fantastic torture again. When the plate has been all but licked clean, Andy has a smudge of chocolate at the corner of her lips. He can't resist the urge to lean forward and carefully wipe it off with his thumb, barely registering her swift inhalation at the feel of soft, silken skin under his fingers.

"Wanna get out of here?" he asks huskily before sucking his thumb clean, taking in the lingering taste of chocolate and something that is purely McNally. She nods jerkily in response and Sam is gratified to see that she's as affected by him as he is by her. Once again proving how excellent his timing is, their waiter appears a few moments later with the bill and a wireless debit machine.

They're out of the restaurant and in the back of another cab in what seems to be no time at all. They behave in the back of the taxi, not wanting to give the driver or his security camera a free show, and limit themselves to intertwining their hands on Sam's leg. He strokes the back of her hand with his thumb, amused and amazed when she starts shifting restively beside him, attempting to hide the way she rubs her thighs together in response.

He has never met a woman more responsive than McNally. He smiles at her and her pupils dilate. He touches her hand and her pulse speeds up. He kisses her and she practically goes limp in his arms. It's an incredible turn-on to have physical proof of how susceptible she is to him and his charms. Still, he's not above teasing her - just to see how much she can take before she finally snaps.

And she will snap. He'll make sure of it.

The walk through the hotel lobby isn't a run through sheer willpower alone, but once they're in the elevator Andy stands directly in front of Sam and buries her face in the crook of his neck, seemingly content to just breathe him in for a few moments.

Sam brings their entwined hands to rest on the small of her back; after a second, Andy frees her hand from the slightly uncomfortable position and burrows it around his waist under his jacket. When they arrive at their floor, Andy doesn't back away and breaks into contagious giggles as Sam awkwardly walks them towards their room. She throws her head back with laughter when Sam grins and turns them so that they're waltzing down the hall.

"I didn't know you could dance," she says with a wide smile.

He sets her away from him to unlock the door, but leans in and presses a swift kiss to her temple before he inserts the keycard. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

Her gaze softens as she looks at him, taking in the ever-so-slight tensing of his jaw, and regrets, not for the first time, not giving this amazing, passionate, courageous, (mostly) patient man a real chance at the beginning - back when she was still fooled by his badass bad-boy persona. "Then I guess I'll have time to learn more since I'm not going anywhere."

She is as surprised by her words as he patently is, but there's no fluttering of panic in her chest, no itch to run as far and as fast as her feet can carry her, no desperate need to be away right this second. Suddenly unsure and needing some sort of reassurance after so blithely laying her cards on the table, Andy winds her arms around Sam's torso, not so much to keep herself from running but to keep him from doing the same. In response, his hand moves from the base of her spine to wrap fully around her back as he holds her closely to him and rests his chin on her shoulder.

"Really?" his voice rumbles in her ear, the low, husky tone causing a shiver to run up her spine.

At any other time, Andy would be tempted to just blurt out some sort of flippant answer - she'd done it when Luke said something that made her uncomfortable - but she's finally coming to understand that her heart isn't the only thing at stake here, that somehow, someway, Sam is emotionally invested in her, in them, and if she spooks and runs from him now she'll be responsible for breaking two hearts.

She doesn't exactly take her time answering, but Sam's muscles are slowly tensing under her hands and she knows she has to answer now, before he shuts down on her. "Yeah," she says quietly, "really."

His other arm wraps around her as a tiny shudder reverberates through his frame and Andy comes to a sudden realization that he had literally put his heart in her hands, and she can't help but close her eyes in thanks for not letting him down.

"I don't think I can say the actual words yet, Sam," she adds, ashamed of her emotional shortcomings, "but you have to know-..."

He pulls back and covers her mouth with his hand. "Andy, stop. I don't need to hear the words just yet, just so long as you don't run if I feel the need to say them." She looks directly into his eyes and watches, amazed, as he drops the walls he's spent the last six months building and lets her see the full depth of his emotions.

"Oh, Sam," she breathes, her hands coming up to cradle his face as her heart clenches. Her single-minded pursuit of Luke, particularly in the aftermath of the blackout, caused a hurt that she would do anything to take back. Andy reaches up and covers his mouth with hers, kissing him slowly and thoroughly, drinking his pain from his lips.

Behind her back there's a soft beep and then Sam is lifting her into his arms as he carries her into their suite, moving back towards the bedroom. He sets her down beside the bed and Andy instantly shoves his jacket off his shoulders and down his arms before he manages to return the favour. Her hands delve under his shirt, clutching at hot, smooth flesh as Sam places sucking kisses down the column of her throat.

"God, Sam," she moans, urging his t-shirt up though she is unwillingly stopped at his shoulders because he's busy trying to get her own jacket and shirt off and neither is particularly keen on letting go of the other. Andy drops her head to his shoulder, nipping and suckling at the skin she finds there while her hands find and tease his flat nipples.

Finally, the need to be skin to skin convinces them to separate long enough to get their shirts off and Sam just about has a stroke when he gets an eyeful of her underwear, realizing that she must have worn his absolute favorite set out of the lingerie store this afternoon. It's sheer black satin and lace, playing peek-a-boo with her nipples, that cups and supports her perfect breasts and somehow makes her skin gleam with a golden hue. "Jesus, Andy," he breathes nearly soundlessly.

"You like?" she asks with a mischievous look in her eyes, grinning hugely when he nods like a simpleton, his own gaze never leaving her encased breasts. Rendering the man of few words and perfect poker face completely stupid is something that she's never going to forget. Andy grasps one of his hands in her own and brings it up to cover her right breast, gasping when his fingers automatically bend to cup the soft flesh. His thumb passes over her nipple once, twice, three times and her knees start to sag as pleasure streaks from the tightly furled bud straight to the heat currently pooling in her centre.

Sam's arm wraps around her waist to steady her as he bends to pay homage to the bounty before him, trailing his lips around the upper edge of her bra. She whispers his name on a swift exhalation, leaning even more of her weight against him, while her arms come up to tangle in the short strands of his hair, holding him in place. One of his hands moves up to flick open the clasp of her bra with practiced ease and he draws the straps down her arms, baring her perfect, round globes to his eager gaze. "Beautiful," Sam murmurs absently, tracing the shape of her breasts with one finger while he admires their erect, strawberry-colored tips.

When Andy's knees threaten to completely collapse, he wraps his hands under her bottom, urging her legs to wrap around his waist even as he straightens and carries her to the bed. She lays back, watching avidly as Sam sheds his jeans, now wearing only his underwear. Andy shakes off the haze of desire enough to unfasten her own pants and shimmy them down over her hips as he grips the hems and pulls them off the rest of the way. He strips off her socks, placing soft kisses in the arches of her feet, thoroughly enjoying the way she squirms, before he joins her on the bed, slowly crawling up her body.

Andy firmly grips the back of his neck when he's close enough to reach and drags him up into a hot, open-mouthed kiss, while one of her hands travels down his chest, enjoying the way his muscles jump at her touch. The wiry hair covering his chest pleasurably abrades her nipples and the sensation of it causes her to arch into him to increase the pressure. Her legs wrap around his hips, yanking his pelvis into hers, and their kiss breaks off with twin groans when the hard ridge of his erection presses against her swollen centre. Sam braces his knees and thrusts into her, making a high-pitched keen escape her throat as she gasps for air.

He can feel her heat and wetness through their underwear, the musky scent of her arousal tantalizing his nose, and Sam is fairly sure that, despite his best efforts, this will be over quickly. "Andy, are you sure?" he grits out between clenched teeth.

Her eyes narrow into slits in response. "If you stop, I'll kill you," she retorts, deathly serious. Sam kisses her again, though his relieved smile proves to be contagious as they grin and chortle between smooches.

He shifts off of her just enough to strip off her underwear and swiftly shucks his own before moving back between her thighs, hissing when his cock finally comes into contact with the soaked folds of her sex. His brain cells are sizzling out of existence with speed, but he manages to retain enough sanity to remember something important: "Protection?" he gasps.

Andy's hormonal type of IUD still has another three-and-a-half years before it's due to be replaced. She's pretty sure Sam knows that she's on birth control, even if he doesn't know what kind, but she thinks his concern is sweet, if misplaced. "We're good," she replies even as she reaches down to position him at her entrance. "Now, Sam."

He's helpless to resist her and thrusts forward in a long, torturous glide of pure sensation; he's long and thick and despite the more than abundant slickness of her arousal she's tight as hell, making for a very interesting ride as her body struggles to accommodate him. Andy whimpers and shudders beneath him, her hands clutching at his back and shoulders while her knees draw up to flank his sides, allowing him to sink even deeper into her tight sheath.

He buries his face in her shoulder, needing a moment to catch his breath (not to mention scrambling for the rapidly fraying threads of his control), but eventually Andy bucks against him impatiently. "I swear to God, Sam, if you don't start moving..."

He takes her lips in a searing kiss as he pulls almost all the way out before driving back in with the force of a battering ram, completely bottoming out as she keens her approval. Andy ravages his mouth, tangling their tongues, frantic for more as she writhes beneath him.

Sam sets up a smooth, driving rhythm that soon has Andy gasping her approval as ecstasy sings through her every nerve ending. He's pretty sure she's clawing some nice furrows into his back, but considering the already darkening hickeys on her neck he figures they're about even. One of her hands burrows into his hair and gently scratches his scalp, eliciting a hiss and a hard jerk of his hips as his tempo falters for a second.

In turn, he dips a hand between them, stopping to stroke the area just above her carefully groomed curls with his thumb, gaining a hard clench of her sheath for his efforts, before continuing down to where they are joined. Sam carefully rests his finger against her clitoris and she positively explodes around him, sobbing and crying variations of his name and "OH GOD!", and her internal muscles flutter around him like crazy.

Sam never stops, pulling her left leg up until her ankle rests over his shoulder, giving him even better access and driving Andy higher and higher while her body shudders and convulses around him. The slightly different angle allows the fat head of his cock to stroke and nudge that special little spot with each thrust and she's quickly racing back up to the peak of delight. All too soon, he feels that familiar tightening at the base of his spine as his balls draw in close to his body, and he knows he's out of time.

"One more, Andy," he cajoles, mashing her clit under his fingers and the sharp pleasure-pain is enough to rocket Andy into another wildly intense climax that has her screaming her rapture to the heavens. Her sheath clenches impossibly tight, frantically milking his cock, and the sight of her completely losing it beneath him proves to be the last straw on his limited control.

He roars as he explodes deep within her belly, and the hot pulses of his release sends Andy into a third, equally powerful, orgasm. After a long moment of drawing out the ecstasy as long as possible, Sam carefully lowers her leg, which is starting to cramp, before he collapses onto her with a soft groan of satiated exhaustion.

"Best. Ever," she announces between deep gulps of air, gradually loosening her death-grip on his shoulders and back and sifting her fingers through his hair.

"Agreed," he concurs with a smile, turning his head to meet her eyes. Neither is sure who kisses who, but it's a soft meeting of lips and tongues, a confirmation of all the emotions that they can't verbally express.

Though Sam would love to stay exactly where he is for the rest of eternity, he knows he's probably getting too heavy for her so he pushes himself up and off of her, agreeing with her sound of disappointment as his rapidly softening cock slips out of its new favourite home. Andy, totally wrung out by three fabulous orgasms and lingering stress from the past few days, is quickly falling asleep while Sam rearranges their bodies so he's spooning her from behind, wrapping himself tightly around her.

"Hey, Sam?" He makes a sort of questioning noise, nuzzling the side of her neck with his nose and lips. "Thanks for not giving up on me."

He isn't quite sure what to say in response so he blows gently on her ear until her face turns towards him and then captures her mouth in a kiss that sizzles. It's broken when she has to yawn and Sam can't help but chuckle into her mouth before pulling away. "Get some sleep, Andy," he instructs, brushing her nose with his in an "Eskimo kiss".

She yawns again and twists back to settle herself more comfortably against him, dropping a hand to the one wrapped around her waist and entwining their fingers as she starts to drift off.

Her breathing deepens into the regular rhythm of sleep and he's not far behind, quickly slipping into the arms of Morpheus.

Sam wakes with the dawn, and discovers that though his arms are empty, Andy hasn't gone far. Just out of arm's reach, she's curled on her side, facing away from him, though he doesn't get the impression that she was trying to get away.

He can't help the stupidly happy grin that wreathes his features as he considers her slender form. Finally, the woman who has been invading his dreams for the past six months is all his – and the only she'll get away from him now is if she kills him.

With that in mind, he sidles close enough to touch her and carefully strokes the back of his hand down the silken skin of her side. She is perfection given form, he thinks, admiring the taut globes of her perfect ass as he drags the caress down over the curve of her hip. He freezes when she stirs, murmuring something unintelligible as she shifts restlessly, and is hit with a fantastically evil idea when she eventually settles down.

Knowing that she's a fairly sound sleeper, Sam sets about gently urging her to roll onto her front, elevating her hips slightly with the use of a strategically placed pillow. Sheltered between her thighs lay the gates to paradise and he lightly dips his fingers between her folds, not wanting to startle her to wakefulness or cause any hurt if she is tender.

He very gently brushes the tip of his finger against her clitoris, applying the barest amount of pressure there, and her legs practically leap apart. With a sly grin, Sam spreads them wider until her knees are almost parallel with her hips and keeps playing. When she's slick and swollen with renewed heat, shifting and moaning restlessly though still asleep, he settles between her thighs and brings his newly rampant erection to her entrance.

He wiggles it around a bit to pick up some moisture, notches it in her opening, and then thrusts home, hard and fast. Andy awakens with a gasp and a moan as Sam plunders her body. Arching against him as he waits for her body to adjust to him, she reaches one arm back and tangles her fingers in his hair while the other fists the sheets.

Sam kisses her neck, his tongue tracing gentle designs on her skin, and teasingly bites her earlobe. "Good morning." His voice rumbles from deep within his chest and the vibrations against her back make her shiver with delight as she clamps down hard on this large invader.

As soon as her grip lets up, he pulls almost the entire way out, and then slams back in hard enough to make the bed rock. She squeaks and latches on to the headboard, trying to get her knees under her for some leverage, but the way his lower stomach is wedged against her bottom, holding her down with his size and weight, makes that impossible. She is trapped, held captive while he has his way with her.

Unable to think, let alone put words together to form phrases, she lets her body do the talking for her as she pants, gasps, moans, and clenches around him. Unutterably smug that he's put the chatterbox beyond words, Sam anchors his feet and thrusts hard, slightly changing the angle of penetration. There is a special spot that he's aiming for, and Sam knows he's found it when Andy suddenly goes stiff as a board as her back bows, a low, guttural groan escaping her lips, eyes shut against the pleasure. The sound goes in his ears and heads straight south, and they both moan when his cock swells to an even larger girth within her.

Andy can't keep herself from chanting his name, but God only knows whether she means it as encouragement to keep doing that or is begging him to get it over with. Maybe both. God, she'll never get used to how big he is... He thrust hard again, the underside of his cock stroking that special spot again…

Just as suddenly as it started for her, it's all over. She thrashes, pants, wails, and bucks through the massive orgasm, shrieking her satisfaction, simply trying to ride it out before all the sheer ecstasy fries the circuits in her brain.

Every muscle in Andy's body clenches, and Sam tries to hold back as her hot sheath clamps down and ripples around him, but he's helpless to resist the strong milking sensations and explodes, his pelvis pressed as closely to hers as he can get. When he is completely drained, he collapses on top of her and lays there for several minutes, gasping for enough air to reboot his brain. Eventually, he slips out of her and rolls off to lie on his side facing her, once more pulling her in tightly to him.

Andy is still breathing heavily, trying desperately to recover from that last sheet-scorcher of an orgasm. Who would have thought that being so helpless would be such a turn-on? Not that she wants it like that all the time, but the remembered feeling of being surrounded by him sends a shiver down her spine. Her whole body tingles and pulses with the aftermath of a truly spectacular orgasm and, despite how exhausted she is again, she can't help wondering if he'll be up for another round in the shower.

She turns her head to look at him, eyes sparkling as she sleepily nuzzles the pillow under her cheek. "Good morning."

Sam smiles at her and leans forward to kiss her lingeringly. "How's that for a wake-up call?" he asks teasingly against her lips.

Andy reaches up to tangle her fingers in the soft strands of his hair. "I'll take that over an alarm clock any day," she replies with a matching smile. It's absolutely insane how completely and totally happy she is right now. Even before the night of the blackout while she was seeing Luke she never even came close to the level of contentment that just lying in bed next to Sam, exchanging soft, slow kisses, brings.

This is uncharted territory for Andy, and she's utterly terrified of screwing it up, but this is Sam. Even if she does feel the urge to run, he won't let her.

But the crazy thing is she doesn't want to run. Can't even fathom being more than arm's length apart from him now that they've finally, finally, come to an understanding of each other.

"What are you thinking there, McNally?" Sam asks, cupping her cheek in his warm palm.

"How lucky I am to have you in my life. How grateful I am that you forgave me for burning you. How much I-... How much I-..." Her next words stick in her throat.

He shushes her and kisses her sweetly when he sees her struggling. "It's okay, Andy," he whispers, stroking her cheekbone with his thumb, eyes bright and warm and filled with all the emotions she can't put a voice to, even though she knows she feels the same. "It's okay."

His unending patience with her and her emotional baggage brings tears to her eyes. "No, Sam, it's not okay to let you spend another minute not knowing just how much I love you-...!" Her declaration is interrupted when he seals his mouth over hers, unable to wait another second.

Sam makes love to her mouth, ravishing her completely, and she's dazed and hazy with desire when he eventually ends it. "I love you," he whispers vehemently. "God, Andy, I love you so much."

Andy is crying and laughing at the same time as she drags him back over her, letting his body settle in the cradle of her hips. She never imagined just how much weight would lift off her shoulders when she finally let herself utter those three little, all-powerful words to another person.

For the first time, she feels something other than regret for all the time wasted - because it wasn't really wasted, was it? They've gotten to know each other as colleagues, partners, and friends, each type of relationship more intimate than that of lovers in a lot of ways.

This time, when he joins with her, their lovemaking is gentle and slow, but earth-shaking all the same; it's not a wild charge to the finish line, but rather a leisurely stroll in the park as they savour each new sensation, every nuance. Their climaxes are slow in coming, almost a surprise as the wave of their pleasure crests over them, and they gradually drift back to awareness with the same quietly thrilled mood they started in.

Sam rolls over onto his back, taking Andy with him until she's sprawled bonelessly over his chest, quietly dozing as he traces shapes and patterns into her back with his fingertips. The next words escape before he has a chance to censor them and he tries not to brace himself for the chase when she spooks and bolts. "Marry me, Andy."

The next minute is the longest of his life and it goes by interminably slowly and he can't keep from growing tenser with each second that passes.

Until she stirs, rubbing her cheek against his chest like a kitten, and settles back down, breathing the answer that will change everything:


"...I found a woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, and I'm going to hold on to her forever."
- Charlie Croaker, The Italian Job


A/N: That's all folks. Thanks for sticking with me!