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𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗅𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗍𝗌 - 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾

sammy bryant x detective!f!reader

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when you're called to the site of a murder, you realize the two bodies are on opposite sides of the city line. being a new detective, your supervisor sees this as a perfect opportunity for you to get some mentorship from LAPD detectives. unfortunately, the case is not as open-and-shut as you thought, and over the course of the investigation, you find yourself falling for one of the detectives you're supposed to be learning from.

Series Warnings: extreme inaccuracies of how law enforcement works but let’s just pretend that it’s not because some of these things i was afraid to google, murder, violence, police stuff, slow burn, tammi exists, but they never got married, eventual smut , mutual pining, coworkers to lovers, instant attraction from both sides, but they dont do anything about it until later, sliiiight power imbalance (sammy is a DII and reader is a DI), reader with a backstory, original side characters, no description of reader, no use of y/n, reader uses she/her, switching POVs but mostly in reader’s POV. this takes place during season 2 of southland, but minimal cannon events are described. dividers by dividers-are-us

Chapter Word Count: 7.3k Chapter Warnings: sex dreams (MDNI!!), cummin in pants lol, dirty kissing, dry humping, sammy is insecure and so so touch starved; sammy continues to be a foodie and explains his very specific taco preferences; richter appearance!! A/N: things are starting to heat up!! i've decided that i'm going to combine everything into one last big chapter instead of 2 smaller parts, so chapter 4 will be the finale! thank you all so much for your kind words throughout this series! i cant believe its almost over.

“Fuck, Sammy,” The words were breathy and a little wobbly. Your hands were tangled in his hair, pulling his cheek close against yours. Sammy’s hands held a bruising grip on your hips, fucking you back and forth on his thick cock. You were a blabbering mess, rambling about how he was ‘so big’ and you’d ‘never felt this full before’.

“I know,” He cooed, pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses to the column of your throat. He had you partially bent over the desk, skirt flipped up and panties around your knees. His pants were haphazardly shoved down just enough to release himself and his shirt was unbuttoned. The plushness of his stomach slotted perfectly against the curve of your back with every movement and your ass recoiled with every desperate thrust of his hips. Your breaths came out in sharp gasps and he groaned into your shoulder. It was loud, carnal, and he didn’t give a shit if anyone heard because he finally had you begging for him. “Takin’ it so well, baby. Shit, you’re so wet.”

“All for you, Sammy, only for you.” You cried, nails digging into his scalp. Your words, your clear devotion to him, had him whimpering into your ear. His hips jackrabbited into yours, fucking you into your orgasm. You let out a high-pitched whine and-

The shriek of an alarm cut through Sammy’s body. He bolted upright, gasping hard. Sweat dripped down his neck and pooled at the dip in his back. A dream. Pain tore through his chest as the wisps of your voice, your visage, your smell, evaporated from his mind. His fist hit the alarm clock harder than necessary. He groaned and collapsed back onto his pillow, running a hand over his face. The dreams had gotten more frequent. He was lucky if he got through a night without seeing you. Not all of them were sexual; sometimes you would simply be driving in a car together or you’d be a bystander in the supermarket. He enjoyed any and all appearances of you in his dreams, but his favorite by far were the times you were under him. Or on top of him. Even inside him during one very confusing and somewhat enlightening night. It was getting to be a problem. He felt like a pervert, dreaming about how you tasted, just to be greeted with your bright, unassuming smile in the mornings. Every time you looked at him, his heart flipped in his chest and he felt a hard ball of yearning lodge in his throat. And yet, he saw your stolen glances. The way your eyes trailed up his thighs when he sat down and the way you looked at his fingers as he typed. So, maybe, his dreams were more than just horny desires. Maybe they were premonitions.

He was doing surveillance again today. At least he would have some downtime to run through his conflict. Sammy moved to push the covers off him, but he froze. A shiver of disgust rolled up his spine when he felt a sticky liquid running down his thigh. He threw back the duvet and, sure enough, the front of his boxers had a large wet blotch. His cum dripped down his thigh and onto the sheets.

“Are you fucking serious?” He hissed. He hadn’t had a wet dream since, Christ, high school? What the fuck was wrong with him? Sammy carefully slipped out of bed and tugged off the soiled clothing. But even after he showered, got coffee, and drove to the surveillance site, the sound of your moans clung to his brain like a parasitic fog he couldn’t get out of. He couldn't keep living like this.

Sammy swiped his thumb along the neck of the bottle. A drop of condensation rolled down to his knuckle. He had been on a stakeout for sixteen hours. Sixteen grueling hours of looking out binoculars and hunched over in a van. And while they had made a substantial breakthrough in the case, all he could think about during that time was you. Even when they had presented the case to the taskforce leader and she said they had enough to make an arrest, the only thing on his mind was how much he wanted to call you and celebrate. But he couldn’t do that. You were nice to him, sure, but you had to be. You were partners. Sure, you had swapped stories and anecdotes, but at the end of the day, it was a professional relationship. He didn’t want to be the one to misread the situation and overstep. He knew you were attracted to him, but he also knew that sometimes people just liked to look. If he ever brought it up, that would make it real. And he would rather die than make you uncomfortable in any way. So, he settled for the little shots of adrenaline that flooded his system whenever your fingers brushed and the thoughts he indulged only in the steamy haze of his shower.

Nate clapped him on the shoulder. The bar was filled with the task force celebrating the completion of their assignment. Sammy sat on a barstool by himself, letting the ambient boisterous conversations roll over him as he nursed his half-drunk beer. He jumped at the sensation.

“What’re you mopin’ about, man?” Nate mused, leaning on the bar and gesturing for another round. He was playing pool with his buddies. Sammy wasn’t bad at pool, but he sensed that he wasn’t exactly welcome among the group. Nate was his best friend, but the stakeout boys had a different relationship with him. Sammy would rather just sit on his couch and watch the game. With you sitting beside him. He huffed and shook the thought from his head.

“Nothin’.” Sammy mumbled, taking another swig of his beer and turning his eyes up to the TV screen in the corner. He licked a stray drop of liquid from his lip. Nate smothered a smirk by biting the inside of his cheek.

“Oh good. Thought you were thinking of her again.” He took the drinks from the bartender and ignored the way Sammy’s attention immediately snapped to him.

“I don’t know who you’re talking about.” He lied.

“Really? You’re playing that game?” Nate quirked a brow. “Dude, seriously.” Sammy shrugged and took another sip. “You need to ask her out.” He coughed into the beer.

“W-What? No. No.” He shook his head so hard his cheeks jiggled. “No, she’s…she’s not…”

“What? Not into you?” Nate tossed his head back and gave a small chuckle. “Yea, alright.” He shifted his weight and gave Sammy a leveling stare. He lowered his voice. “Sammy, brother, I love you. But you’re a fucking idiot.” Confusion knit Sammy’s brows together.

“Huh?”

“Give me one behavior of hers that makes you think she’s not interested.” Nate raised his eyebrows expectantly. His partner just blinked. A light pinkness splashed across his cheeks. Sammy swallowed and worked the muscle in his jaw. “I mean,” Sammy tilted his head and shrugged a little. “Look at me. I’m not…I’m not exactly the stud of the department.”

“And she’s said that to you? She’s told you that she doesn’t find you attractive.?

“W-Well, no-”

“And if I recall, you were telling me about how she kept checking out your ass.” Sammy reddened further. He was taking a call the other day, slightly bent over the desk with his hip popped out. He looked at you to roll his eyes at the stupidity of the caller, but your eyes were zoned in on his legs. Your eyes flicked up and realized he caught you staring. Your eyes widened and you muttered something before scampering away. He had, quite drunkenly, raved about the instance to Nate that night, chest puffed out and eyes bright. He pursed his lips.

“I just…I don’t want to misread it.” Sammy mumbled, with a little too much vulnerability for a dingy cop bar. He turned away from Nate and his shoulders slumped. He had thought about how to ask you out for several weeks. He had it all planned out. He would give you your coffee, see the way you always beamed with joy when he remembered your order (as if he could ever forget; it was tattooed on the inside of his brain), and ask if you wanted to get coffee outside of work one day. When he couldn’t sleep after a long day, he’d run it over again in his head. You’d be a little surprised, he thought, but extraordinarily excited and accept on the spot. He’d take you to the good cafe, the one that you could only find if you knew about it. He’d buy you breakfast, learn more about who you were outside of work. Maybe you’d even let him talk to you about the books you’d been reading. He bought Love’s Savage Secret the day after you mentioned it to him. He’d been reading it on his days off. Was it a little creepy? Maybe. But he just really wanted to know more about you. And if your reading tastes were a window into your soul…yea…he wanted to talk about that. Did you only read spy thrillers? Were you able to predict the plot twist in the sixth chapter, like he had? He especially wanted to know if you liked those scenes. If you wanted to recreate them. If you wanted to have him cuff-

“Sammy.” Nate’s voice made his eyes refocus, blinking away his train of thought. “Did you hear me?” Nate rolled his eyes when Sammy shook his head. He leaned in conspiratorially. “I promised I wouldn’t tell you this, but I cannot let you be slouching alone at a bar forever.” He took a deep breath and Sammy straightened his posture at his words. “I have…insider information that, at the very least, she likes you enough that she’d accept a dinner invite.” Sammy’s eyes went wide.

“Really?” His voice was soft, unguarded, hopeful. Like a child who had just been told they’re going to get ice cream instead of going to tutoring after school. Nate playfully batted at Sammy's shoulder.

“Really. You’re a good man Sammy Bryant. Everyone else sees it. It’s time you start seeing it, too.” Nate grabbed the drinks and walked back to the pool table.

For the first time since meeting you, Sammy allowed himself to feel the hopeful determination that coursed through him. Okay. Yea. He’d do it. After you arrested the City Limits killer and it was no longer an HR nightmare, he would ask you out on a date. Romantically. His brow furrowed when Nate’s words truly clicked.

“Insider information…” He repeated under his breath. He spun around in his chair to find Nate lining up a pool shot. Oh…oh no. Sammy’s cheeks were on fire. It was one thing to talk about his crush during drives to scenes. But now someone else knew. And Sammy just prayed Nate didn’t actually talk to you.

“How can a man just disappear?” You hissed, angrily grabbing your drink from the food truck counter. You stomped over to one of the picnic tables. Sammy followed dutifully behind you, carrying two trays of tacos.

“It’s not uncommon.” He reasoned, placing your tray in front of you. “We’ll find him eventually.” You scowled as you bit into your taco. The delicious food dampened your rage, but flickers of annoyance still persisted. Rob had fled. Steve had immediately gone to bring him in after you viewed the tape but Rob’s grandma had quickly (and loudly) informed Steve that he was gone. They’d been looking for about a week to find him, with no results. You were terrified that your case was grinding to a halt. You were not going to let that happen.

“You’d think their priority would be finding a potential killer instead of meeting their parking ticket quota.” You rolled your eyes. Sammy just smiled.

“Welcome to the LAPD.” Sammy’s hands hovered over his tacos. He had little cups of toppings arranged perfectly in front of him. You watched him as he began artfully decorating his food.

“That’s impressive.” You said as you swirled your drink. Sammy nodded severely.

“I have my system.” He agreed.

“Explain it to me.” Your smile was genuine as you sat up straighter, leaning over the table and resting your chest on your arms. Uncertainty flashed across Sammy's face.

“Really?” He was hesitant. But you nodded again and he took a breath. “Okay. So these are the best tacos near the station. They’re fine by themselves, but if you dress ‘em up a bit…” He kissed his fingers. “Divine. You gotta get their pico. The spicy one. The mild doesn’t work as well. Then a little bit of guac…and, they don’t tell you this, but pouring the dipping sauce on top of everything brings it all together. Finally some lime…and viola!” He presented his work to you with a crooked smile. The one you knew meant he was genuine.

“Wow.” You gasped. “Those look amazing.” You took another bite of your own, slightly more boring, taco. “Next time you’ll have to help me build ‘em up.” His smile flicked slightly wider.

“Now’s the best part.” He lifted one of the tacos to his face, parting his lips and preparing to take a bite, but a heavy hand interrupted him. It squeezed his shoulder. Sammy startled slightly, eyes widening and mouth snapping shut. His eyes flicked from side to side nervously. He blinked at you before looking up. “Oh. Hi, Sal.” The supervisor stood over Sammy, fingers digging into his muscle. Sal wore a smile. The kind that told you he was displeased.

“So,” Sal bit out, teeth a little too bared. “How’s it going?” Sammy gave a tight smile and lowered his taco.

“Great?” He said, but it was more of a question than a statement.

“Great,” Sal nodded, but took a deep breath and lowered his voice. “You know, maybe sitting on your ass after losing our main suspect isn’t the best detective work.” You swallowed the bite you had taken. Sal’s nose scrunched up as he jostled Sammy lightly in a way that might have been considered playful in another circumstance. “Get back out there.” He leaned over and grabbed Sammy’s plate from in front of him. Sammy’s brow furrowed as he watched Sal dump the two uneaten tacos into the trash. Sammy swallowed a little noise of despair as his food disappeared into the can.

“Yes, sir.” He sighed. Sal nodded to you and walked away. Sammy took a deep breath. You pushed your tray across the table.

“It’s not a Sammy Special,” You shrugged. “But if we’re going to recanvas the entire neighborhood, you should eat. I’m not dealing with you when you’re hangry.” Sammy looked up at you with relief. And you had to smother the smile it caused. He accepted gratefully and crunched into it.

Three days later, Rob was found. His credit card pinged in a few towns over. The idiot got caught because he was too lazy to pay for his pizza with cash. His mistake landed him in the interrogation room, sitting across the table from Sammy as you watched from behind the fake mirror. You had your notepad out, scribbling down any notes. Sammy thought the interrogation might go better if it was just one person in the room with him. It would look less like an ambush and more like a conversation. Your job was to observe, watch Rob carefully to see which questions made him squirm in his seat and which ones made his eyes dart around the room. Sammy had started with the vague questions, where he had been for the past week, why he ended up getting caught, was he with anyone else. Rob answered all of them without thinking. But then, Sammy pressed a little harder. He started asking questions about the relationship between him and Thomas. And Rob shut down.

“I want a lawyer.” You audibly groaned at the words and Sammy sat back in his chair, letting out a sigh. He acquiesced and assured Rob that they’d put in his request. Sammy stood then, leaving the room. A few moments later the door to the observing side opened. You gave Sammy a sympathetic look.

“Sorry.” You knew how frustrating it was to have your suspect lawyer up. Stupid civil rights. Sammy just shrugged.

“It happens.” He murmured, standing closely to the one-way glass. His nose was inches away from the pane. “What did you get?” You flipped the page of your notebook to see what you had written.

“His eye twitched when you asked him why he left town.” You reported. “M’not sure what that means, but that was really the only change in demeanor he had.” Sammy pressed his lips together and hummed in acknowledgement, eyes never leaving the figure of Rob slumped in his chair. A few moments passed in silence. You heard yourself swallow.

“I came off too strong.” Sammy sighed, itching the hair at the nape of his neck. His hair was starting to grow out a bit and his curls were gaining more definition. You liked it. “I don’t know why. Usually I can get a few slip-ups out of them before they lawyer up.”

“You were really good.” You said, eyes cast down at your notepad. You didn’t want to see Sammy’s face. “You asked good questions. Got him to answer a few of them. Better than I could have. You’re…” You took a breath and looked at him. “You’re a really good detective.” Sammy chuckled lowly, face not twisted in condescension, but with genuine gratitude.

“Thank you.” He said, hands in his pockets. “I-” He was cut off by the door opening again. It was a uniform. You didn’t know his name, but he seemed urgent.

“Hi, um,” he panted, clearly rushing to get to you. “They found the sister. She’s in room two.” Your head snapped to Sammy, and he met your excited look. He tossed his head back in relief, bending his knees.

“Oh, I love when they do our job for us.” He groaned, a wide smile painting his face.

Haylee wasn’t exactly what you expected. She sat in her chair with her legs crossed, lips pursed warily. You were expecting a sniffling mess. Both of her boyfriends had been murdered and her brother was being questioned for it. You were anticipating more tears, more snot, more ‘he didn’t deserve this.’ Instead, you and Sammy sat across a woman who took each fact with prowess- Both of them dead. Rob in the room next to her. A few questions needed to be answered.

“Did your brother know Thomas?” You asked, filling your voice with artificial sympathy. After a bit of convincing, you had Sammy agreeing that you would be the ideal primary for questioning. A little ‘girl talk’ between you two.

“Oh, yea,” Haylee was quick to respond, her brows pulling tight. “They’ve been best friends since 8th grade.”

“Is that how you met?”

“Mhmm.” Haylee nodded, shifting in her chair. “They’re a bit older than me so I didn’t really get to know Thomas until high school.”

“Can you tell us a little about your relationship with him and Ambrose? If they knew each other at all?” You kept your voice gentle, but curiosity wasn’t absent from your words. You were simply shocked at the casual demeanor she had. She chewed on her gum.

“They never met.” She shrugged. “Ambrose and I work at the same country club. I’m a bar cart girl and he’s- or, I guess, was- a caddie. We had a lot in common.”

“Did he know you and Thomas were together?” Sammy asked and Haylee’s gaze sharpened. She threw him a look and then rolled her eyes to you, can you believe this guy?

“No.” She said pointedly. Condensation filled the word. “My boyfriend did not know I was cheating on him while he was at work.”

“Did Thomas know you were with Ambrose?” Haylee’s face pinched with thought at your question.

“I…I don’t actually know. Rob knew about both of them and they don’t have any secrets from each other. I wouldn’t be surprised if he told Thomas.”

A movement caught the corner of your eye before you could ask your next question. There was a man peering into the room through the small square window in the door. He met your eyes and swirled his finger in the air, telling you to wrap it up. You shared a brief look with Sammy and forced a smile to curve your mouth.

“Thank you, Haylee, that’s all for now. If you’ll excuse us.” You rose from your chair and pulled down your shirt subconsciously. Sammy followed your actions. His fingers lightly brushed against your back as you passed by him. An action that made your breath hitch slightly, but you pushed any thoughts about it to the back of your brain.

“Hello,” The stranger greeted once you were all in the hallway and away from Haylee’s vision. “Lionel Smith. I’m Rob’s attorney.” He shook yours and Sammy’s hands. He took a deep breath and used both hands to clutch at the handle of his brief case. “Listen, I’ll get to the point. You don’t have enough to charge my client with the murder of either Mr. Green or Mr. Delgado. Your file mentions something about a convenience store footage-”

“Correct,” You supplied “Rob was the last person to see Thomas alive.”

“Right,” Lionel gave a tight smile, a little peeved at your interruption. “Well, that convenience store is three minutes from Thomas’ house. Plenty of time to drop him off. You can’t prove that Rob was there when he died and you have no other evidence. So, either show me and charge him, or let my client go.” You blinked hard and looked at Sammy. He gave a small shake of his head and flicked his eyes over your shoulder. Almost undetectable. Almost.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Smythe.” You said, voice pinched.

“Smith.” Lionel corrected.

“Right, sorry, lots of long nights recently.” You exhaled, perhaps amused, perhaps frustrated. “We’ll…keep in touch.” Unsure of what else to say, you gave him a curt nod. Lionel struggled to keep his smug smirk under control and he nodded. You dug your fingernails into your palm to prevent yourself from commenting on it.

You spent the remainder of the day sitting at your desk in the Santa Monica precinct. Sammy was not happy about having to watch Rob simply walk out of the precinct. He had stood watching the main doors with a clenched jaw and balled fists. You asked if he was alright, and he just grunted and walked back to his desk. At that moment, Sahabi had called you in for help on a theft case and, since neither Rob or Haylee could be held on murder charges, you had nothing else to do. But you took the case file with you as a precaution. Sahabi was long gone. She had offered to treat you to dinner, it was Friday night afterall, but you waved her off with a weak excuse of wanting to look over the case files again. You wanted to search back through it to find something, anything, that might give you a new clue. Anything that might possibly tie Rob to being at the scene of the crime. Your mistake with the toxicology report may have lost evidence. It was your responsibility to make up for it. Even though all you wanted to do was go home and shower, you knew that you’d be down for the count the moment you walked through your door. So you settled into your chair with a mug of coffee and arranged the files in the halo of light pouring from your desk lamp. All you had to do was find a way to connect Rob to the crime scene. You knew he was with one of the victims twenty minutes before the time of death, but that was still plenty of time to drop Thomas off somewhere and make it back home. You had to find something that proved Rob’s location closer to the murder. You took a deep breath and opened the file.

Two cups of coffee later, you were close to quitting your job. Words blurred together. You had misread the victims’ last names wrong twice, utterly confusing yourself when you got to the autopsies. You had read through a memo at least five times, looking for any sort of reason it would be included with the evidence, only to realize it was sitting on your desk from a meeting you had missed earlier that day. Not at all related to the case. An uncomfortable ache had long since settled into your bones and your belt was digging into your stomach from wearing it too long. You leaned back in your chair and rubbed at your eyes. You were the only one still working in your department, but you needed another pair of eyes to help you. Looking it over by yourself was fruitless. You needed to talk through your thought process. You checked the clock on the wall and pursed your lips. 8 pm. Not an ungodly hour. But you knew Sahabi wouldn’t help you this late unless you came with a peace offering- and her favorite bakery was closed. You took a sharp inhale when a different idea slithered into your mind. Before you could think too hard and talk yourself out of it, you packed your things into your bag, grabbed your keys, and made your way to where your car was parked.

You had never actually been to Castaic. You knew that a lot of cops lived in the city, and you never understood why until you actually drove down the neighborhood streets. Beautiful houses, curated lawns, a paradisiacal refuge from the grime and violence of their Los Angeles work days. What a nice idea, to be able to physically separate yourself from your work. You turned onto the street name that was written on the business card you kept in your center console. For ‘just in case’ purposes. You parked outside the house. The porch lights were on and you could see the flickering light of a TV screen through the window. You gathered your things and stepped out of your car. The dusk air was warm. Clouds streaked black against the deep orange sky and a small breeze rustled the fronds of gardened palm trees. You heard a hawk screeching somewhere in the distance. You reached out and knocked against the white wooden door.

You stood on the porch for a few moments before you understood the reality of the situation. You were arriving unannounced. You hadn’t called him to let him know you were coming, and he didn’t seem happy the last time you had seen him. Maybe he just wanted to sit on the couch doing…whatever he did, and he wasn’t going to answer the door. You clutched the case file to your chest and shook your head. This was stupid. You should leave. You moved to turn around, but the clicking of the door’s lock made you freeze. Anticipation shivered down your spine and you inhaled sharply, eyes widening and mouth pressing together. You just hoped he wouldn’t greet you with a shotgun.

Though, you might have preferred it. Because it would have been much more easily digestible than the sight you were actually met with. Sammy stood in the doorway, face relaxed with vague surprise. You had seen him in his ‘casual’ clothes more than once, when he was preparing for stakeouts, but this…this was something different. It looked like you had interrupted him right before going to bed. He wore loose black sweatpants and a white undershirt. You could see the slope of his chest and the imprint of his belly button pressing against the shirt. He shifted when he recognized you and lifted one of his freckled arms to rest higher on the door. The movement made the shirt pull up and you could see the waistband of his boxers peeking over the sweatpants. Holy fuck. You couldn’t help but have your gaze slowly take in his appearance.

“What are you doing here?” Sammy mumbled, tilting his head. It took you a few seconds and an inquiring twitch of Sammy’s eyebrow, but eventually, words formed through the haze of your brain.

“S-Sorry! Um, I’m sorry to bother you, I just…I’ve been looking over the case files again and everything’s kinda blurring together. I could really use someone else’s eyes to help me. And you…you said that if I ever needed to talk or anything, I could come over.” Sammy had given you his card with his personal number and address a few days into the case. He had mentioned that sometimes murder cases can get tough mentally. And if you needed any support, he was there for you. You doubted he had this situation in mind when he gave you the location of where he lived.

“So you drove an hour? You didn’t want to wait until Monday?” His words were gentle, but the rejection cut right through you. Oh. You remembered that most people had plans for their weekends. Normal people spent it relaxing and not thinking about work. You curled in on yourself slightly and pressed the file closer to your chest.

“Oh,” You squeaked. You felt small and your voice reflected that. “I’m sorry. Y-You’re right.” You gave him a little smile and shook your head, taking a step back. “I got excited, I guess, I’ll- uh, I’ll leave you alone. Have a good weekend. We can talk on Monday.” You turned around instantly. You didn’t witness the panicked look that flashed across Sammy’s face as you began to walk back to your car.

“No!” He called after you. “No, it’s fine. I was just surprised to see you.” You looked over your shoulder and Sammy opened the door wider. “Come in…just, please ignore the mess. I wasn’t exactly expecting company.”

“Are you sure?” Your posture straightened and you turned back to him. “I don’t want to intrude.” Sammy just smiled and stepped to the side.

“Not intruding.” He promised. “Besides, I think Richter wants to meet you.” You looked past him and saw the curious snout of the dog peering at you over the arm of the couch. You smiled and relented, stepping into Sammy’s home. It was cozy. Even though it was considerably larger than your apartment, it was filled with items that made it homey. Picture frames hung on the wall of the staircase and little trinkets were arranged lovingly on the mantle and hall tables. You walked into the living room and placed the file on the coffee table. Richter looked up at you with excited eyes, tongue lolling out of his mouth and tail beating the couch cushions with vigor. You held out your hand and after a sniff, Richter covered your palm in wet licks. You giggled and scratched under his chin. “He likes you.” Sammy smiled, locking the door and joining you in the living room. He gently hooked his fingers in Richter’s collar and urged him off the couch. “Don’t be rude, Richter, let our guest sit down.” Richter gave a huff of air, but obeyed, trotting over to his dog bed in the corner. Sammy gestured to the couch and you sat, beginning to arrange the files on the glass table. He stood there for a moment, a bit awkwardly, before speaking. “Do you, uh, want a beer or something?” Your eyes looked up to him and you smiled softly.

“I’m alright. Thank you, though.” Sammy nodded and sat on the couch beside you. Your attention was drawn to the TV. “You know, I never thought you’d be the kinda guy to stay at home on a Friday night. I figured you’d be at the bars or the strip club or something.” Sammy gave an uneasy laugh.

“Me? A strip club?”

“I dunno,” You shrugged, returning his chuckle. “Nate talks about it sometimes. Even if you don’t love it, you can’t deny that’s like…the place to be.”

“Maybe,” he leaned back on the couch and slung his arm over the back cushion. “But it’s been a long day. I just wanted to watch TV and rot. What about you?” He bumped his knee against yours. “You’re too young to spend all your weekends going over cases. Surely your boyfriend has a bar he wants to take you to.” You stifled a smirk and a roll of your eyes. You knew what he was trying to ask.

“Sammy,” You sighed, looking at him over your shoulder. “We’ve been working together for 2 months. When have I ever mentioned a boyfriend?” You gave an amused noise when you saw his cheeks get a little pink. You looked back at the papers. “Okay,” you inhaled, planting your palms on your knees. “We know Rob was involved. How do we figure that out?” Sammy focused up, but remained in his relaxed position.

“Can we track him and Thomas’ movements after the convenience store?” He asked.

“Mm-mm,” You shook your head. “There’s no working outside cameras and Rob doesn’t have a car registered to him.”

“Did they take Thomas’ car?”

“His mom drove it to work during the TOD. Rob’s grandma has a car in her name, but it was that rusted one in her yard. The one without the wheels.” Sammy’s mouth pulled up to the side.

“Maybe we need to look more at Ambrose. Did his dad send the surveillance tapes?” He asked. You flipped a page to see Ambrose’s written profile.

“Yea, it showed him leaving about ten minutes before TOD. Uniforms found his car at a bus stop three miles away from the crime scene.” You handed him the tow report.

“Okay,” Sammy drawled, eyes scanning the paper. “So that means Ambrose and Thomas met at the scene. There’s a bus stop within walking distance of the county line that serves the same line as the stop the car was at. Was there anything else of note from Ambrose’s parents?”

“Literally nothing.” You chewed the inside of your cheek, gaze roving the pile of scattered papers. “I know the story is in here. I know it. But I have no idea what to look for. Maybe if-”

“Stop.” Sammy cut you off. “I know what you’re going to say. They’re rerunning it, alright? If there’s anything that matters, we’ll know about it in a few days. Stop being so hard on yourself about it.”

“But what if it had something we needed?”

“There’s no way of knowing that,” Sammy shrugged. “Mistakes happen. We’re trying to make it right. Acknowledge and move on. That’s all you can do.” You weren’t convinced, but accepted his words with an unenthusiastic hum.

“What are we missing?” You said, almost to yourself. You flopped back onto the cushion with an exasperated sigh. The TV droned on quietly in the background. A few moments passed with silence. You turned your head slightly to look at Sammy, only to find that his eyes were already settled on you. His belly rose and fell with each of his breaths and his fingers twitched where they were resting only inches above your shoulder. “Do you think we’re going to solve this?”

“Absolutely.” Sammy breathed without hesitation, matching the quietness of your voice. The lamp from the other side of the room cast soft shadows across his face and made his eyes look darker. He really was so handsome.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because you’re a good detective.” He whispered, fingers closing the gap and running over the peak of your shoulder. Your breath caught at the action. You saw Sammy’s pupils dilate, which only darkened his eyes further. You were suddenly hit with the intimacy of the moment. Sitting on Sammy’s couch, asking him for his help in the dying light of the day, unable to stop your breath from quickening from the feeling of his fingers against your skin.

“Sammy-” You breathed, titling your head.

“I mean it,” He continued. “You’re so…god, you’re everything. You’re so intelligent and intuitive. You’re not scared to take risks and you show genuine compassion for people. You have no idea how rare that is. I’m so lucky to be working with you. I-” You surged forward, cutting him off by pressing your lips against his. Sammy’s heart punched into his throat and he let out a muffled sound of surprise. You pulled away at the noise, horror rounding your eyes and hands covering your mouth.

“Oh-Oh my god, Sammy,” You gasped, shaking your head. “I’m so sorry I don’t-” Sammy’s hand tugged your wrist away from your face. He leaned in and kissed you again. His lips were so soft against yours, plush and gentle. His thumb swiped along the ridge of your cheekbone and he slowly moved his mouth. You poked out your tongue, asking to deepen the kiss, and Sammy obliged. He wanted to be sweet. Didn’t want to take advantage of you in any way, but the moment when you showed that you wanted him too, he couldn’t hold back. He breathed hard against you when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Your hands found his chest and you felt his heart race against your palm. They slowly drifted upward until your arms draped around his broad shoulders. A spark of boldness swelled against your ribs and you shifted forward, swinging a leg over his lap until you straddled him, never breaking the kiss in the process.

You settled into Sammy’s lap easily, and his hands found your hips, pulling you closer to him as your lips moved together. Your fingers found the curls at the nape of his neck and buried themselves between them. Eagerness settled into the kiss, noses bumping together and tongues breaching each other’s mouths. You moved a little to reposition your knees and an evil smirk peeled your lips when you felt a bulge pressing against your thigh. You sneakily rolled your hips, lightly brushing against Sammy’s fast-growing erection. Sammy’s hips bucked involuntarily into yours and you let out a little gasp of surprise. He immediately broke the kiss.

“M’Sorry,” He panted, grip tightening on your waist. “I-It’s been such a long time since someone’s touched me. We don’t have to do anything, you just…you feel so good on top of me.” Desire punched you in the stomach, hard and unrelenting. Searing arousal fizzled in your lower back. The slight whimper in his low voice, the small flicker of insecurity breaking through the heat in his eyes, it was the perfect combination of pathetic and mind-bendingly arousing. You cradled his face in your hands, his soft cheeks pudging up slightly between them. You made sure to keep unblinking eye contact as you rolled down on him harder, grinding your clothed core against his length. Sammy’s top teeth bit hard into his bottom lip, suppressing a guttural moan. You shook your head, running your fingers over his cheeks and kissing along his jaw. His eyes fluttered closed and he dropped his head back with gasping breaths.

“Don’t hold back, Sammy,” You murmured against his neck. “Wanna hear you.” He let out a moan when your teeth grazed the sensitive spot beneath his ear. “Good.” His hips bucked again. Your hands ran down his chest and rested on his belly. You sat up straight when your fingers breached the hem of his shirt. His skin was on fire, searing your fingertips as they explored the expanse of his torso. You saw insecurity and hesitation swimming in his eyes, gaze flicking from his stomach to your face. His jaw clicked and his mouth pressed together. You gave him a soft smile and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. “You’re so handsome,” You cooed against him “So strong. I need you so bad, Sammy. V’wanted you since the crime scene.”

“Wh…Really?” He said with disbelief. You nodded and hooked your fingers into the strings of his sweatpants, untying the knot. His hands were still glued to you, thick fingers digging into the fat of your hips and guiding you over the tent in his pants. His hard cock poked at your warm entrance and you let out a needy whine.

“Want me to prove it?” Your hands grazed his happy trail, thumb teasing the waistband of his boxers.

“Unbelieveable.” He huffed. “You’re so fucking perfect.” His breath was coming in short pants, whimpering and moaning as your touch went lower. Only inches away from where he desperately needed it.

His phone rang, cutting into the hot cloud of arousal that surrounded the pair of you.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sammy groaned out, head falling against your chest. You couldn’t help but giggle and massage his scalp. You pouted at him and gave a kiss to his nose.

“You should probably get that.” You teased, falling out of his lap and onto the other cushion of the couch. Sammy looked murderous, knuckles white with how hard he was clenching his fist. He muttered as he snatched his phone from the side table.

“What?” He barked into the receiver. You watched his profile as he talked. His chest was still heaving and his cheeks and neck were splotched with blush. You saw the place where you nipped his skin. His lips were slightly swollen and kiss-bitten and his hair stuck out at angles. You let your eyes tick lower to where you were sitting a few moments prior. He wasn’t as hard as he was, but the outline of him was still thick against his thigh. The conjured mental image of him stretching you out made a rush of wetness pool between your legs. When he hung up, his eyes closed and he sighed. “I hate to say this but I’m glad they called. That was traffic control. Apparently Rob’s dad had a car reported as stolen last month. Nevada plate ending in K59.”

“Like that witness said?” Excitement lit up your face. Sammy nodded.

“They got the full plate number and ran it through the traffic footage and they got a hit. Rob and Thomas were in the car together after the convenience store. And then Rob is seen alone in the car 10 minutes after the time of death window. From the direction of the crime scene.”

“Oh my god!” You gasped, sitting up straight. “Rob was there!”

“Yea,” Sammy grinned “Yea, he was.” His smile faltered. “It’s not enough for an arrest, though. Sal said we had to have an entire file on him before we get him. The press is all over this case and the last thing we need is to arrest the wrong guy.” He ran his hands over his face. “I gotta make some calls.” He said apologetically, taking your hand in his and kissing your knuckles. You gave a knowing grin.

“Yea, I should probably head home. Make sure my cacti haven’t gotten into any trouble.” Sammy helped you compile everything and you gave Richter a good-bye before walking to the door. You hesitated when you stepped out onto the porch. Sammy looked a little pained. You kissed his cheek and he sighed, leaning into your touch. “Thank you for helping, Sammy. I’ll see you on Monday.” He swallowed and nodded.

“I’ll see you on Monday.” And he stood there watching, yearning tugging in his chest, as you drove away into the night.

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