So we know about Andy and Sam's first kiss, and we know about their first night together… But what about their other 'firsts'?

Provided readers are receptive, I will be chronicling the 'firsts' in a long list of moments Sam and Andy experience as a couple. I was surprised and pleased with the response to "Cradle" – my first bit of 'fluff' – and was inspired to write more. For those who are interested, I plan to add to "Heavy Hearts," but this particular story allows me to enjoy some angst-free writing when the going gets tough! I should note, I update regularly, but I will not be updating with the frequency the last four days have afforded. Apologies if I got anyone's hopes up!

A special thank you to all who have set alerts, added favorites, and reviewed my work... It truly does mean so much.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Rookie Blue, to my continual chagrin.

First date.

He caught her eye as he pulled into the parking lot. It had been nearly a month since his encounter with Jamie Brennan, a week since his suspension had ended, and seven weeks, two days, and sixteen hours since he had worked a shift with Andy McNally. Not that he was counting.

Eyes still locked on his truck, she waved Traci ahead, promising to finish their conversation in the women's locker room. Nash, for her part, didn't argue.

Andy stood on the curb, waiting for him to park, before sauntering over to the driver's side door.

"Hey," she greeted him softly, relief in her eyes. After three weeks of zero-contact, save for the first night together, the past week had been near-torture. Frank had them operating on opposite schedules, resulting in little to no free time to spend together. One of them was exhausted while the other was gearing up for a heavy load of desk duty and booking – It had been a vicious cycle for nearly six days straight.

Finally, finally, they were scheduled for the same shift. For Andy, this was a concrete step on the road to recovery, Destination: Normal.

"Hey," Sam echoed, breaking her train of thought. "Fancy seeing you around these parts."

She laughed openly. "Yeah, it's been a while, hasn't it?"

He hopped down from the truck, grabbing her hand as they walked toward the station. In keeping their promise to Frank, they had forfeited the usual "couple" exchanges, settling for linked fingers instead of locked lips. Best had made it clear that no "funny business" was to occur on division time; they were to keep a professional distance at work and on-duty. As long as they abided by a strictly "coworkers" code while on the clock, he wouldn't press the issue. Eager to work the same hours again, Sam and Andy readily agreed.

"So, McNally – big plans for tonight?"

She smiled, turning to face him as she answered. "Actually, yes. I'm hard-pressed for some alone time with an old friend. He's been patiently waiting for me to get my act together and spend some time with him."

Sam hid a grin before adjusting his poker face. His tone was casual, indifferent, as he prodded for more information. "Is that so?"

Andy nodded, crinkling her nose. "Yeah, I feel bad. I think he's been a little lonely lately."

"Huh." Running a hand through his hair, he paused for effect, before continuing. "Well, you better make it up to him, then."

She bobbed her head in agreement. "You're right." Approaching the division's door, she slipped her hand from Sam's. "Executive decision: It's just me and my box cutter tonight. We've got our work cut out for us, unpacking an entire apartment, but at least we'll be together."

Moving toward the door, she reached for the handle while silently predicting the consequence. Four, three, two, one…

He yanked her shoulder, turning her to face him. "You're impossible."

The picture of innocence, she responded in an apologetic tone. "I'm sorry. I thought I was very clear with my intentions."

He rolled his eyes, fixing her with a look of disbelief. "Yeah, I don't think so. Please tell Mr. Box Cutter that he will have to take a rain check. I'm taking you out tonight."

She paused, pretending to weigh her options carefully. "I don't know; it's such short notice. I think he'll be really disappointed…"

He held up his hand, effectively silencing her. "You're getting a proper first date tonight, McNally. Flowers, a decent meal, and a goodnight kiss on the doorstep. If you're lucky, I might even wear a tie." Noting her incredulous look, a mix of shock and amusement, he hurriedly continued, "This offer expires in three, two…"

"Okay," she answered, giving up the battle. Sighing outwardly for show, she made a note in her head to discuss outfit options with Traci. Hopefully they would have a few minutes before parade to brainstorm. For all her false aggravation, inwardly she was cheering. "I'll cancel my preexisting plans."

She pushed up on her toes to give him a quick, discrete kiss on the cheek before stepping into the station. "But a tie, really? I'll believe it when I see it, officer."

He shook his head, well aware that he had walked into that trap. Following her inside, he called after her retreating figure. "I'll swing by the new condo at 6:30, McNally. Be ready to go."

True to his word, Sam stood on the step of her apartment complex, pressing the buzzer at 6:30 p.m. sharp.

As he waited, he heard the sound of something crashing, followed by a muffled 'Oh, shit' before her slightly frazzled voice answered, "Come on up."

He chuckled, reaching for the door as it clicked. Some things never change…

Whatever he was subconsciously expecting when she opened the door, well – those expectations went flying out the window.

He opened his mouth to avoid swallowing his tongue, but no words came out.

She spoke instead, albeit breathlessly, as if she had been running. "Please, come in. I just have to grab my other shoe." Bracing herself against the doorframe, Andy slipped her foot into a low heeled boot as Sam entered the condo.

"Hey. You look… you look great. I, uh –," he cleared his throat. "Just really nice."

He had seen her in a lot of different outfits: Her uniform at work, her typical jeans-and-tank attire at the Penny, the "hooker apparel" on her short-lived John sweep, and well… He had seen her minus all of those clothes as well. But there was something about the knowledge that she had dressed up specifically for him, for tonight. His heart beat an unsteady, staccato rhythm and his usual wit abandoned him.

A delicate white top, edged with some kind of lace – He really wasn't up-to-date on women's fashion and the appropriate descriptors – was complemented by a deep green cardigan. Her dark wash, denim skirt was longer than he had seen her wear, stopping a few inches before her knees, but it was no less attractive. Her tights, a concession to the bitter Toronto air, were largely covered by high brown boots, but damn it if her legs still didn't look amazing. How did women manage to pull that off? Regardless, he silently thanked God for the gift of the female form – It was some really excellent creation on His part.

Lifting his gaze to her face, he noticed her hair was curled around her shoulders, and whatever she had done to her eyes… Well, he thought that they couldn't get any prettier, but apparently women liked to dress them up and drive men wild in the process.

Realizing she was looking at him, an eyebrow raised in question – obviously returning his silent stare – he moved toward her, stretching out his arm.

"These are for you." He held out a bouquet of lavender orchids. "Whenever you're ready to go…" he trailed off, moving his thumb in the direction of the door.

"Oh, Sam. They're beautiful," she acknowledged, her words sincere. "Thank you." She moved toward the kitchen, calling over her shoulder. "I'm just going to put these in water quickly. And thank you for the compliment… You look really nice too."

Her teasing tone knocked some sense into him, and by the time she reappeared, his droll humor was back in top form. He held her jacket as she slipped her arms through the sleeves, before reaching for a scarf on the small hallway table. Wrapping it around her neck, she looked at him slyly. "I remember you seem to have an affinity for leopard print, so I thought I'd work it into my outfit tonight."

His eyes twinkled. "I'm glad you remembered. But there's a difference between liking leopard print and liking it on someone."

"Ah, now I understand." She smiled, laying her hand on his chest as she peeked beneath his own jacket. "Hmm, no tie. That's kind of a disappointment. But wait – what's this?" She paused for effect. "A button-down! Sam Swarek, who knew you had it in you? Uniform aside, I didn't know you owned a shirt with a collar."

He smirked. "Yeah, well, we all have our secrets, McNally."

"Well, let's get going then, and see if we can unlock the mystery that is Sam Swarek during this 'first date' small talk."

He followed her out the door, waiting on the stair as she locked up. He could have sworn he heard her singing something familiar under her breath. Something that sounded distinctly like, "He moves in mysterious ways…"

Pulling into the parking lot of their favorite 24-hour diner, he cut the engine before turning to look at her.

"I know it's not a fancy Italian restaurant or anything, but I figured this is more our style. Besides, we have a lot of good memories here, and I know we haven't had a chance to come here together in over two months, so –"

She cut him off, saving him from his own rambling. "Sam." Meeting his gaze, she smiled. "It's perfect."

He exhaled deeply, gave a quick nod, and hopped out of the truck, circling the hood in a matter of seconds. Reaching for the door handle, he offered his free arm to guide her to the ground.

Unable to resist teasing him, she rested her hand on his shoulder as she slid from the cab. "A gentleman, through and through. A girl could get used to this, Swarek."

He shrugged offhandedly. "Yeah, well, this parking lot is notoriously icy, and let's face it McNally, you're a danger magnet. That danger does not exclude the natural variety." He swung the truck door shut, before finishing, "I'd rather not spend the rest of the evening with you in the E.R."

"I don't know…" she mused. "I mean, if I fell, that might mean spending the rest of the evening wrapped up in your arms. There could be worse things, you know."

He looped an arm around her shoulders, leading her away from the truck before he responded. "You're right. But I'm hungry. And if this date ends the way I'd like it to end, I'll need to have eaten."

"And what's that supposed to mean? Don't you think you're being a little presumptuous?"

He grinned cockily. "Nah, I just know my girl. And you might wanna reconsider ordering pancakes. I know you can get breakfast any time of day here, McNally, but it's 7pm. We're on a date. You can order real dinner food."

She wrapped an arm around his waist, hugging him gently. "I know. But I like my pancakes."

Hiding her chin in her scarf, she smiled surreptitiously. Sam may not have noticed his turn of phrase, but there was no way she missed the "my" before "girl."

An hour and a half later, they emerged from the diner, sides aching. Andy couldn't remember a time when she had laughed so freely. Clutching a carryout box of pancakes – 'They'll still be good tomorrow morning!' – she slid her free arm through Sam's.

Sam, for his part, couldn't keep a goofy grin off his face. His posture was relaxed, his expression lighter than it had appeared in weeks. Tonight seemed to take years off him.

"So what's next, Dream-Date Ken?"

"Well, dinner and a movie seemed too cliché, and dinner and a walk – as nice as that sounds – is a bit impractical in weather like this, so I thought we'd go find a hill overlooking the city, maybe have a chance to talk some more…"

She stopped walking and removed her arm from his grasp. Turning toward him, she set her to-go box on the hood of a nearby car and crossed her arms in front of her chest, her face clearly showcasing disbelief.

"Oh my god, Sam, you want to take me parking?"

"See, when you say it like that, it sounds like I have an agenda."

"Well, see, when you set it up like that, it seems like you do have an agenda."

"Riiiight. So, is that a 'yes'...?" he said, eyeing her mischievously.

For one moment, the parking lot was still, save the "OPEN" sign humming with electricity in the diner window. Covering her face with her hands, Andy didn't respond.

Slightly alarmed, Sam backpedalled. "Andy. No, Andy – Look, I'm sorry; I wasn't trying to imply anything. I don't have expectations per se, I just thought…" he trailed off, as she wiped at her eyes. He stood wordlessly, until a huge guffaw broke through his reverie.

"No, Sam –" she doubled over in silent hysterics, more tears pooling at her eyes. Realizing her primary emotion was laughter, he fixed her with a stern glare. "I'm not laughing at you – okay, that's not actually true – but you have to understand, Officer Sam Swarek is asking me to go parking with him. Don't you see how hilarious that is?"

"I shouldn't have said anything at all."

"No, no, I disagree. You just completely made my night." She giggled to herself, repeating the word "parking" under her breath, as Sam looked on impatiently.

Sensing his irritation, she reached up to tug his ear to her mouth. "I have a better idea. Let's go back to my place. At least then we can operate under the premise that we're 'watching a movie.'"

He grumbled lightly, still annoyed at her recent bout of hysterics. "I don't know, McNally, we old-timers have a pretty strict sleeping schedule. I don't know if I can stay awake to watch a movie."

"Well, how about this: You can drive me home, walk me to my door, give me the proverbial kiss on the doorstep, and say goodnight. And then you can follow me inside and fulfill that promise for a good night." She leaned into him, pulling his chin down and forcing him to meet her gaze. "Please?"

He let out a begrudging chuckle at her hopeful expression. "Are you sure that's what you want?"

She smiled, circling his neck with her arms. "You're what I want, silly."

He was silent, contemplating the look on her face before wrapping his arms around her waist. "That's good to hear." He hesitated briefly. "I guess we don't do much by the book, anyway."

"That's true."

Releasing her abruptly, he grabbed her arm and began to drag her in the direction of the truck. "I mean, most girls would shut the door and head to bed after a first date, dreaming of the next knee-weakening, butterfly-inducing, one-hell-of-a-Swarek-kiss."

"Oh, is that what we're calling it, then?" she half-laughed, half-snickered, following him to the truck.

He flicked his wrist, spinning her until her back rested against the passenger side door. Using his arms to box her in, he bent forward, grazing his lips against her ear. "Yes, that's what we're calling it, McNally."

She gave him a light push, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Well, then I guess you're lucky I'm not most girls."

He stepped back, popping the lock and ushering her into the cab. "Hop in. Can't wait to see where this is going."

They exchanged twin grins, pancakes long forgotten as Sam swiftly shifted into reverse.

Interested in seeing more? Too OOC? Please leave a review and let me know.

Please excuse any and all grammatical mistakes; they are my own.

As always, thank you for reading!