"You wanna talk?"

"No."

And then her hands were on his stomach, pushing him backwards until his back met solid wall, and her lips were on his. It was a moment before his body caught up, his brain was slower and by the time he kicked it into gear he'd already wrapped a hand around her and pulled her against him so he could thoroughly explore the inside of her mouth with his tongue. Even as his mind flashed up warnings like fireworks, he couldn't tear his lips from hers, his hands from her taught body.

He shut the door behind them as he half pushed half carried her to his room. She slid her hands under his shirt, pulling it off effortlessly. Turnabout was fair play and her shirt joined his in a heap on the covers. Her skin was tanned and smooth under his hands. He lifted her feet off the floor so she could wrap her legs around him.

It wasn't enough. He wanted all of her, spread over all of him. Sam could drown in her and die happy.

He lay her back against his pillows. His lips traveled to her throat and she gasped aloud. The sound shot straight to his pelvis and he ground against her.

Their kisses sped up in tandem with the thrusts of their hips. Even through the thick fabric of their jeans Sam could feel heat and need. He grabbed her ass and angled her hip so his growing erection pressed against her clit through their jeans. She pushed up against him, responding to the increased contact with a moan at the back of her throat and the tightening of her hand at the back of his neck.

And then, with a brief flicker, every light in the house turned on at once, harsh light bleaching out the warm glow of candle light. They stilled. Andy's hand which had wrapped around his neck, pulling his lips to hers, slid down and came to rest against his abs, her eyes were closed, her head tilted back, breath coming out in short, heavy puffs. She'd never looked so beautiful.

"The power's back on."

Her eyes opened and she cast a quick glance around the room. There was a flicker of guilt in her gaze. Sam told himself it was residual guilt from the shooting that afternoon. She'd done the right thing. If she'd hesitated, failed to pull the trigger, she would be dead. Of this Sam was certain.

"I guess this means everything goes back to normal," Andy's voice was rough.

Sam studied her eyes for several breathless seconds. Her gaze was steady, pupils dilated by lust despite the bright lights. The blaring of his TV from the next room was ruining the mood. "I should just go turn a few things off," he said, flashing her a smile.

Sam made quick work of the lights and TV. Returning his place to murky darkness punctuated by the warm glow of candles. When he returned to his room, to Andy, he found her sitting at the edge of his bed, pulling her tank top back on.

The guilt in her expression told him everything his brain had failed to before any of this started. She wasn't here for him, Sam. She was running away. Trying to wipe out the pain of her first shooting, drown the guilt of taking a life in sex. Of course she was. He was an idiot.

The only reason she was even here, with him, instead of in the bed of Luke Callaghan was because Luke was too busy digging for bones to realize what he was missing out on. What Sam now knew he would give up almost anything to have for himself.

He leaned one shoulder against the wall, eyes fastened on Andy's face. "Yeah, I guess everything is back to normal."

Andy's face was a mask of guilt and pain as she hugged her knees to her chest. She barely met his eyes before ducking her head so her hair hid her face.

Sam wanted to wrap her in his arms. Instead, he turned and walked away.

He wasn't angry with her, surprising, but there it was. She was doing what came naturally to everyone, escaping. The fact that he'd let it get beyond that first kiss was on him, one hundred percent. He was her training officer. She had to trust him, it was a necessity of the job, and he'd abused that trust. She'd come to him, in pain, seeking release any way she knew how. He knew she'd killed someone. He knew she hadn't dealt with it, he'd heard the raw pain in her voice at the station when she refused to talk about it. It was why he'd told her to call him if she needed anything. Then she'd shown up at his house and he'd happily carted her to his bed. Idiot didn't begin to cover it.

He pulled a lukewarm beer from his fridge, he would have to clean it out tomorrow thanks to the twelve hours without power, and popped the top off into the garbage before settling at the kitchen table. He sipped in silence.

After several minutes he heard the sound of her feet in the hall. He waited, perfectly still, for the click of his front door. It didn't come.

"I'm not a cheater." Her voice, still gravelly as if she'd been crying for hours, came from the doorway behind him.

Sam turned to face her. He couldn't make out her features in the dimly lit room. He hadn't bothered to turn on any lights. "Callaghan?" he asked. He gestured to the table, a silent offer to come sit.

She nodded and came to sit across from him. "I'm sorry."

"Beer?" He offered, "It's warm, but still drinkable."

"Thanks."

He popped the lid off, "Glass?"

"No." She took the bottle and drained a third of it in one swallow.

"Want to talk about it?" He offered for the third time that day.

She sighed, loudly. "Not really," she answered honestly. "But… " she drained the rest of the beer in a few swallows. "I guess wanting to isn't the point?"

Sam grabbed each of them another beer from his fridge while he considered the best way to respond. "Sometimes it helps."

"He just wouldn't stop… he went for the gun and I... panicked." Andy shook her head and took a long swig from the bottle. "I didn't think about it.. it wasn't a decision.. I just… fired."

"You did the right thing."

"I didn't even think about it, I just killed him." She sighed. "Now they're doing a review and I can't work until they're done, so I have to what? Just sit at home and do nothing?"

"Andy, you did the right thing." Sam stood and walked around to her side of the table. Crouching down, he rested both hands gently on her face and turned her so she was looking directly at him. He could see the flame of the candles he'd left burning on the counter reflected in her pupils. "You did what any good cop would have done."

A single tear escaped her eye and trickled down over Sam's hand.

"You saved a little girl today." Sam said softly, not letting her look away, "Focus on that."

She closed her eyes and three more tears trickled down her cheeks and over Sam's hands. His heart lurched.

Slowly, gently, Sam pulled her against his chest and wrapped both arms around her as she cried. "It's ok," He whispered into her hair. "You're ok."

He was acutely aware that he was still shirtless as her tears trickled down his skin as she sobbed against him. He stroked her hair and continued to whisper words of assurance until the sobs subsided and he felt her breathing even out.

"Let me drive you home." He said softly, pulled away so he could look at her face.

She shook her head, "I can't…" She looked down at her hands, "I don't want to be alone tonight."

Sam considered calling Callaghan for a split second before telling himself that if that was what Andy wanted she would have said so. "Ok, I just washed the sheets this morning so you take the bed. I'll be on the couch if you need anything."

He stood, but her hand on his, stopped him from stepping away.

"Can you stay with me? Just to sleep…" Her eyes pleaded with him to agree.

He couldn't say no.

When the dawn broke and the first rays of light woke Sam, he was alone in his bed. Only the lingering scent of Andy and the indented pillow beside him proved he hadn't imagined the entire night. He stretched and headed for the kitchen.

There was a piece of paper on the table along with four beer bottles, two of them nearly full. He read the brief note and smiled.

Sam,

Thank you.

Sorry to leave before you woke up, but there's something I have to do.

I'll see you at work.

-Andy