...

A Sam/Andy fic.

...

Disclaimer: Nope, don't own Rookie Blue.

...

A/N: This one is for AngelWings8, who requested I write this.

This is basically Sam's thoughts during the fight with Luke.

I hope you guys like this, I know I'll love writing it.

As always, please read and review, I live for feedback!

...

The baton in his hand felt oddly like an anchor. It was weighing him down, keeping him level, but it wasn't letting him go anywhere. Because what he really wanted to do was tear Callaghan a new one with his bear hands, not whack his padding-covered body with a padded baton. It wasn't as freeing as he'd hoped it would be. But, it would have to do.

"Girl-fight!" Peck screamed, blowing her whistle.

Half a second before the whistle, though, Sam's leg shot out, kicking Callaghan right off the mat. The cheers erupted around him, but he didn't lose focus; didn't let it go to his head.

Callaghan got right back up, smiling.

Oh, how he wanted to wipe that smug smile off of his face. Sam dodged a few of his blows, just dancing around him. All that padding made it hard for Callaghan to move ... so for the moment, he was just toying with him. Finally, on one blow, Sam grabbed his arm as it went by him, smacking him with the baton. He hit just about everywhere that he could find, knowing that despite the padding, the force of his blows were rocketing through Callaghan's body.

He chased him all around the small 'ring', his blows never letting up. He could feel Callaghan's hands coming up to protect himself, but they were virtually ineffective.

The detective finally tried to land a punch through the mayhem, nearly catching Sam in the jaw. He dodged it though, winding up with a hit on the shoulder, backing up and giving them both air. Now it was his turn to grin. No, make that a fully fledged smile. Seeing Callaghan's grin in return, he taunted him. "Like that?" he asked, getting ready for another series of blows. He wanted to hurt the smug bastard. He wished that he'd gone up against him at Fite Nite, but this would have to do. Sam forced himself to keep his eyes on Callaghan, knowing that if he spotted Andy in the crowd, he would lose his nerve, or even just get distracted.

Callaghan came back swinging, and he came back hitting. His baton was relentless in his hands, as though its only purpose was to beat the living daylights out of the detective. Not that he minded.

Sam forced him to the edge of the mat, succeeding in making Callaghan cower in defense, but at one time, he actually forced himself through the blows, and tried to grab the baton away from Sam. He wasn't having any of that, though.

They pulled back and forth at the weapon, until Sam finally threw him down, dropping him onto his back on the mat.

In the half-second that he paused, he glanced down at him on the floor. He hated that Andy had chosen him, the workaholic pretty-boy detective, who chose a different rookie to wine and dine every year, and then cast them aside when he was done. He didn't understand what Andy saw in him, especially when he - Sam - was the one she came to with her problems. She came to him when she needed someone to talk to, someone to cry on. Someone to make it all go away.

He sorely wished that the power hadn't come back on that night. Evidently she had still been with Callaghan, and he didn't want her to have cheated on him. But he didn't want her to leave, either. He wished he'd said something, done something to make her stay - even if all they did was talk. They hadn't really talked since that night. He'd been hoping to make a fresh start with that coffee that morning, but then Callaghan had told him about the cabin, and he just couldn't bring himself to fight a losing battle.

This, though ... this wasn't a losing battle. This was something he could definitely beat Callaghan at - beat being the operative word.

Sam continued whacking him while he was on the ground, though not as vigorously. He didn't want it to end like this, he wanted Callaghan on his feet and coming at him when he kicked his ass. "Come on, come on," he goaded between whacks. "On your feet!"

Then Callaghan's legs came around, knocking Sam onto the mat.

It was a surprise, but he actually preferred this.

Callaghan rushed over, looming over Sam as he pressed the baton against his throat, forcing it down.

Sam's upper body strength was far superior, and he blocked the baton from doing any sort of harm. It was more of an annoyance than a worry. But from where he was, he could glare up at the blond detective. He could see in his eyes that this fight meant more to him than a show-down between training officer and detective. He might grin for the rest of the crowd, but when they couldn't see his face, those eyes were full of hate.

Did he know? Sam wondered, while lying on his back, if Callaghan knew that Andy had come to his place during the blackout. He wondered if he knew just what had almost happened between them. If he did, it shed a whole new light on their conversation that morning. Was Callaghan staking his claim?

Deciding he'd had enough of lying on his back, Sam brought his legs around, scissoring them across Callaghan's body and forcing him off of him.

He sat beside him on the mat, holding him down as he pounded him with the baton. If he thought that he was going to give Andy up without a fight, the detective was sorely mistaken.

He continued pounding him, far after Callaghan had tapped out. The voices around him were like distant echoes, and he paid them no mind. All he cared about was how much harder he could hit him, how much damage he could do.

Finally, a whistle blew, and Best's voice could be heard yelling at him. "Swarek, that's enough!"

He ceased his blows, pulling away from Callaghan.

The detective pushed himself away, rolling onto his hands and knees to stand up.

Sam brought himself to his feet, rising just before Callaghan did. He tossed the baton at him, watching as he smacked it away. The stupid grin remained on his face, and Sam found himself wishing he'd aimed a few more blows there.

His gaze moved to Andy, who was looking at him in such confusion, such disappointment, such ... he didn't even know what. He had to get out of there. Had to leave, before he did something really stupid, and attacked Callaghan all over again.

Sam left the sounds of the training room behind, walking down the hall quickly. His breathing was heavy, and he found himself making fists with his hands as he moved. For a moment, he was almost grateful that things between he and Andy weren't as good as they'd been before. Before, she would have followed him down the hall, asking him what had happened, why he'd done it. He didn't have an answer to that question - not one that she wanted to hear - so he was grateful that she wasn't there.

He made his way into the locker room, pleased to find it empty. Everyone was either out in the field, or in the retraining room.

Sam clenched his jaw, staring at his locker. A few more dents won't hurt, he decided, and kicked the metal door a few times, letting his anger out. He might have lost it back there, but he was still itching for more.

After a few minutes, Sam forced himself to calm down. He didn't need another cop reading into his fight with Callaghan, and figuring out that it was over his rookie. He sat down on the bench, breathing in huffs and puffs. Something had to be done ... he had to talk to Andy, had to try to work things out, he just didn't know where to start.

All he knew was, he couldn't stand to see her with Callaghan. Not for much longer. He wracked his brain, trying to come up with a solution.

The day raced by, and he still didn't have an answer.

But when he saw her walking by him at the Penny, his hand came out, halting her progress. He knew he had to try and make things right, so he just said the first thing that came to his mind, hoping that it would be enough.

...

The end.

Well, what did you guys think? Like it, hate it?

I loved this scene ... it was a great episode, even though things weren't resolved with Sam and Andy. I did like the end though.

Reviews are appreciated, flame if you must, but constructive criticism is much more useful.

Until next time ...!