Hi everyone! I'm back. I wish I had some sort of explanation for my disappearance, like a hospital stint or something like that, but the truth is, my muse went on a very long vacation and I wasn't able to reach her. She's back now...I think. I'm not sure.

Anyways, I sincerely apologize for leaving this story, and my other in-progress ones, incomplete for so long, as well as not writing any new ones. It's been so long that I don't even know if I can still write McSwarek stories, but here's my attempt. Please, let me know how it goes by reviewing! You all are so wonderful and patient. xx

Andy, looking around this place, filled with the people she knew to spend more than she made in an entire year in one night (she even saw some high-ranking public officials she only saw on the local news), had absolutely no idea how Sam had been able to get reservations.

"Let's just say that I know the chef extremely well," he said with a wink, answering her unspoken question as he drew out her chair for her.

She gave a short laugh as she sat down. "Ex-girlfriend?"

"No, although I have a feeling he wouldn't mind being called that. We kind of ran in the same circles during my time on the Hill case."

"Really? That's very...awful of you to use blackmail to get us in here."

"It's not awful, McNally, it's called persuasion, just like you persuaded me to let you drive the entire shift today."

"Oh no, I definitely blackmailed you. Persuasion is too nice of a word."

"You're just lucky I still wanted to come out with you tonight."

"One mention of red lace lingerie, Sam, and you were helpless."

He gave a sly smile. "So are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Wearing it." His waggling eyebrows knitted together in an expression of pain as she kicked him under the table.

"I refuse to answer that."

"Well, regardless, you look great."

Her eyes widened in mock surprise. "Is Sam Swarek paying me a compliment?"

"What can I say, I'm a sucker for little black dresses, and my partner wears it incredibly well."

"Does she? Tell me more about this partner."

"She's a pain in the ass."

"Classy, Sam." She wrinkled her nose at him before taking a sip from her water. "Wow. Even the water tastes expensive. Regardless of how my partner verbally abuses me, he sure knows how to show a girl a good time."

"I'm glad to finally hear you acknowledge that," he said with a grin, looking over the gold-bordered menu.

"Put away those dimples Sam, the women in this establishment just lost their own red lace lingerie."

"Maybe I'll be able to use them on our waitress, and then she'll be in an excellent, giving, charitable mood when our check comes."

"Just for that, I'm ordering the most expensive thing on this menu."

"Then you better be up for a delicious steak."

"Oh Sam, I'm always up for a delicious steak."

She ended up ordering the chicken, and he, with a brilliant smile at their waitress (that even she had to admit made her melt just a little bit) ordered the steak.

"This is positively sublime, Sam," she gushed.

"Better than Frankie's fries and shakes?"

"Different. That had been a bad day, and fries were the thing I needed. Today was an excellent day, so this is a wonderful end to it."

He gave her an incredulous look. "How was this an excellent day? I was shot at. Multiple times."

"And you're alive. I saved you. I am finally even when it comes to my debt to you in terms of life-saving."

"This was one time, McNally. I've saved you at least five times."

"But my execution was perfect. I took him out without doing any serious damage."

"It was a pretty good shot."

"Exactly. I managed to save your life and not kill someone else. It was an excellent day."

"You, Andy, have a very warped sense of excellent."

"Of course it's warped. I've been riding around with you for two years."

"Nice, that's nice. Insulting the guy who's buying you dinner." He smiled at her, that crinkly smile that, even on her worst days, made her feel alright.

"Thanks for taking me out," she said sincerely. "Really, thanks."

"Hey, I promised you I would last month, and I'm not one to go back on a promise."

"And Oliver does have a very good sense of food," she said, returning to her dinner.

"And wine."

"And wine. It's divine. This seventy-eight Bordeaux is amazing."

"I like to call it my three month paycheck." He laughed along with her, raising his glass in salute. "To partners."

She raised her glass and clinked it against his. "To partners. And extremely expensive wine."

"And extremely expensive wine."

It was over two hours before they finally exited the restaurant. Sam opened the door to his truck, and she smiled at him as she climbed in. It was nice, really, to be treated like a lady, especially by her very handsome partner. Not since Luke had she felt special, taken care of.

This hadn't been a date, although he had paid (and tried very hard to hide his grimace when the check came - the waitress did not fall for his dimples, which he worked overtime). It had been a dinner between friends, and the double shifts she had been pulling several times for the past three weeks (which meant riding with different, often ornery partners) had her appreciating just what a wonderful partner Sam really was.

He started the truck up, the fifteen minutes drive to her house spent in relative, though comfortable, silence.

"Want me to walk you to your door?" He asked, resting his hand on the steering wheel.

She shook her head with a smile. "Thanks, but I'm fine."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Thanks, Sam. I had a wonderful time."

He smiled. "Me too, McNally. You're a pretty fun date."

"You're not such a bad one yourself," she laughed.

"Pick you up tomorrow at six for training before parade?"

"Sounds good. Bring coffee."

"Always, McNally. You're a terror when you don't get it."

On impulse, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, hoping he wouldn't take it the wrong way. "Bye Sam."

"Bye McNally."