Saturday morning dawns gradually, the first tendrils of light piercing the sky with the beginnings of sunrise. Tranquility blankets the quiet neighborhood as the city warms up slowly. Andy should be fast asleep, wrapped up in blankets and Sam and exhaustion. She's not.
Instead, she's wide awake and staring at the ceiling, eyes absently searching out pictures in the drywall texture. Sam lies motionless beside her, sleeping the sleep of the righteous and snoring like a chainsaw. Andy uselessly curves the pillows beneath her head up to try and shield her ears.
Sam had come home only a few hours before, sluggish and dragging his feet after a long overtime shift. Andy had barely stirred when he'd eased into bed behind her, slipping a protective arm around her expanding stomach and tangling their legs together beneath the covers. It had been comforting; his kiss on the back of her neck instantly dissipating the last tension from her body. She'd felt content and sleepily peaceful.
Fast-forward five hours and Andy's not feeling so peaceful anymore.
Sometime during the night, they'd shifted from their habitual back-to-chest sleeping arrangement. Pregnancy makes it increasingly uncomfortable for Andy to sleep on her side for long periods of time. She usually sprawls out during sleep now, kicking the covers to the foot of the bed and trying to find a comfortable resting position. It’s a little annoyance that can admittedly start her mornings off on exactly the wrong note: sleep-deprived and ready to fight.
Sam's loud snoring overpowers the otherwise quiet bedroom. Every so often, his rhythmic ‘aangn---shuuu, aangn---shuuu' stops, leaving only blissful silence in its wake. But as soon as Andy thinks she can finally fall back asleep, the awful sound begins once more.
Andy gives up trying to block out the noise with her pillows and perches on her elbow to regard Sam's prone figure. He's definitely still worn out, one arm stretched above his head, the other resting on the spot where his gun would be. She'd had the night off yesterday, but Traci had called with gossip about a simple collar turning into an all-out manhunt through the streets of Toronto. It’s easy to imagine the exhaustion that 15 Division must be experiencing.
But watching Sam sleep while she's wide awake is growing increasingly aggravating. He doesn't have to wake up every few hours to pee, or search for a new sleeping position each time he wants to rest. He can just drop down, instantly dead to the world. His snoring is something that, while obviously not a deal breaker, definitely adds to her list of pregnancy-related grievances.
Maybe if he moves onto his side, the noises will stop. And then Andy can pretend that she wasn’t half-awake even before the snoring started, quietly stressing over unfinished baby plans. So much to do and so little time might be a trite cliché, but that doesn’t make the saying any less accurate.
She tries a gentle, roll-over-you're-snoring tap, and when that doesn't work, a less gentle shoulder shove. Sam jolts awake and Andy feels momentarily guilty for waking him up.
“Sorry, but your snoring was driving me crazy,” she whispers. A lie of omission.
Andy kind of hopes that he’ll roll over and think this was just a dream, but mostly she wants him to wake up completely so they can be sleep-deprived and stressed together. Completely ridiculous, but who actually believed that pregnancy was full of rationality anyway?
Sam looks over at her, quick and assessing despite his bleary eyes. “I don’t snore.” He doesn’t even bother with a quiet voice.
“Uh, yeah you do.” Evidenced by Andy's growing irritability.
Sam furrows his brows and eyes her skeptically, his sleepy expression failing to mask his opinion so early in the morning. He definitely thinks she woke up in the mood to start an argument. Which is mostly true, but completely beside the original point.
"Sometimes I get almost no sleep because when you snore, you wake me back up," she hastens to add.
"If I snore, it's only because I switched sides of the bed with you," he replies slowly, tone resigned. It's possible that they've had this conversation before. Maybe even this week.
"I'm just used to a softer mattress. And you know the baby makes it difficult for me to get comfortable anyway."
Sam smiles the way he always does whenever he thinks about impending fatherhood, knee-jerk and genuine. It never fails to make warmth pulse just under Andy’s skin.
But then he yawns and adds, voice still sleep-drenched, "You always hog the blankets. So we're probably even."
"Ha," scoffs Andy. "We are not even in the slightest. Can you get pregnant?"
Sam concedes that he can't with a sleepy laugh and scoots closer to her.
She can feel her stress begin to melt away. Why had she even been angry? But Andy remembers Sam's lazy counter-accusation and tries to work up enough annoyance to argue.
"And I am not a blanket hog," she defends half-heartedly.
Sam’s voice grows amused. "Andy, you wrap yourself up in the comforter like a mummy. And then when you get too hot, you kick the covers off both of us. Every night.”
His face is indulgent, eyes crinkling happily, like waking up to Andy’s irritation is easily the best thing that’s he’s ever done.
She falls silent and pointedly doesn't look toward the foot of the bed where the blankets have undoubtedly migrated. How did this conversation about his snoring turn into one about her blanket-hogging tendencies?
"So, since neither of us have anywhere to be at ass ’o clock today, can we please go back to sleep now?" asks Sam wryly.
"That's what I wanted in the first place," she mutters, mostly lying, but he pretends to not have heard.
Sam leans over Andy, strong arms bracketing her sides, and moves in for a kiss. First her neck, then her right eyelid, and finally her lips, closed-mouthed and sweet.
He relaxes back onto the pillows and she shifts into the space he creates for her. Andy reaches down to drag the covers back over them, first with her feet and then both hands.
She can feel Sam’s heartbeat, steady and sure, as the morning calm lures her back to sleep. It’s peaceful.