Break-up Advice

by Kadi

Rated T

Disclaimer: They're not mine, I'm simply enjoying a dip in the sandbox.

A/N: I rewatched all of Major Crimes from season 1, and when I got to season 2 - Rusty's comment to Sharon about break up advice stayed with me. This is the result.

"You're still married to a guy you haven't lived with in 20 years, and you're giving me breakup advice right now?"

It stayed with her, long after Rusty said it. She wondered if that was, perhaps, the reason why she had so eagerly offered to accompany Andy to his daughter's wedding. Was that the underlying cause behind why she was suddenly spending so much time with the Lieutenant? Certainly Rusty hadn't meant for it to be hurtful, he lashed out when he felt cornered. He couldn't know that his words, spoken so carelessly, would lead her to questioning every personal decision she'd made for the last twenty years of her life.

The separation was necessary, it was the cornerstone with which Sharon had started to untangle her finances from Jackson's. It kept creditors and loan sharks from coming after her for his debts, it saved her from losing the house, and made it possible for her to eventually buy a new car when hers had died. Sharon thought it would be a stop gap measure, financially, until Jackson came to his senses and got help for the gambling addiction. In those days, she thought he would eventually realize what he was losing and come home. He would be the husband and the father that his family needed.

He came home. When he needed money. When he had no where else to go, and no one would have him. Sharon had not exaggerated when she told Taylor that Jack was getting a fresh start, for the hundredth time. She couldn't even count the number of times that she let him come home, only to be disappointed again. Only to have her children disappointed again.

At some point they stopped asking what was wrong with them and realized there was something fundamentally wrong with him. Even Sharon had given up at some point. She let him stay with her, two nights, at least once a year, but it was pity. She felt sorry for him, and it was the man she met, the man that he was when they married that she pitied, not this creature she remained married to.

Religious reasons. Financial reasons. Things she couldn't explain.

Yes, that was all very true. Her parents had been married for sixty-some-odd years; there had not been any divorces in her family, and she was shamed at the thought of being the first. Although, at some point, enough was enough. How much of her own happiness could she sacrifice for others? Where did she draw the line. She couldn't explain why she remained married to Jackson, not even to herself, and certainly not to Rusty.

If she couldn't explain it, it begged the question, why did she?

He was never going to change. Even if he did, Sharon was never going to trust him again. There were things about her marriage that she held close to the vest, that only one or two other people knew about. Humiliating moments she would much rather forget, but which were only burned into her memory and if she was truthful with herself, better not remembered. Just one more reason why she would never really trust her husband again. That was no way to live. She would never take him back. She was a convenience for Jack. He remembered he was married only when it suited him, and only when he needed something from her.

It was a bit of the status quo of her life. Was it any surprise she was suddenly looking for a way to change that? Although, her method of doing so might have bore a little more thought. Now, Sharon was wondering if she was stuck in an even deeper rut.

Fingers, snapping just inches from her face, drew Sharon out of her thoughts. She blinked, and gave the owner a surprised look. "Hm?"

"You drifted." Gavin Baker gave his friend a long, evaluating look. His eyes narrowed slightly behind his designer glasses. She wasn't quite in the moment, and had the far away look she sometimes had when she was particularly bothered by something. It couldn't be a case, she never permitted her work to bother her on that level, and it couldn't be the boy. Everything there appeared to be going much better now that the whole testifying business was behind them. That only left a few possibilities remaining. Gavin lifted his coffee cup and considered it's contents for the moment. "How are Rick and Shannon?"

"They're doing well." A smile played at Sharon's lips. Gavin was fishing. It was something he did when he sensed there was something wrong with her, and he didn't think she would willingly discuss it. Sharon leaned back in her seat with her own coffee cup. This weekly brunch habit of theirs had gotten off track during all of the drama surrounding Rusty, the threats, and the trial. Brunch on Saturday was typically followed by shopping, and a late lunch which would involve large amounts of Sharon's favorite Moscato. "Ricky is still working a lot of long hours," She stated, indulging his quest for information. "Despite all of that, he says he's met someone. I guess we'll see how that goes. Shannon is in the middle of a show, she's doing great."

"That boy falls in love at the drop of a hat," Gavin pointed out with a smirk. "Not exactly his mother's son, in that regard." His smirk only broadened when she rolled her eyes at him.

"I'm a married woman, Gavin. It wouldn't be proper for me to fall in love at the drop of a hat," Sharon sighed.

"Ah!" There it was. The way her nose wrinkled at the word married, and there was a harder than necessary inflection on the term. "So that's it. Option number three. It isn't Rick or Shannon that has you distracted and bent out of shape. It's Jack. I should have known." Gavin rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What has the ungrateful sot done this time?"

"Nothing." Sharon shifted in her seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Gavin wasn't exactly the most comforting ear when it came to her husband, her marriage, or lack thereof. He stopped being supportive years ago, the last time she refused to let him file her divorce papers. Now he was simply resigned to it. She understood the feeling. Sharon figured she was there as well. "I haven't seen or heard from Jack in months, not since he was here last summer."

Gavin's face screwed up in disbelief. "And that's a problem?" He put his coffee cup down and leaned forward, peering at her over his frames. "Sweetie, that's not something to be upset about. That's a reason to celebrate. What in the world are you so worked up about? No Jackson is good news." Suddenly his eyes widened and he looked disgusted. "Oh god, you didn't. Tell me you didn't." Gavin flopped back in his seat, and looked skyward. "By all the saints you believe in, I'm begging you to tell me that you did not let that man back in to your—"

"No!" Sharon hissed at him. Her teeth drew back into a slight snarl, her lip curled. "God no. Don't be absurd, and there's no reason to be dramatic about it either. Absolutely not, I haven't let Jackson anywhere near me in, well, let's not discuss years. No, definitely no, Gavin," she said more gently. "That's somewhat the point, isn't it? Lately I'm starting to feel like I'm stuck. I'm married to a man that I pity, but otherwise can't stand, and the thought of letting him anywhere near me makes my skin crawl. We're legally separated, so I haven't exactly been a nun, and I haven't felt bad about that, but now…"

His eyes narrowed again. Something was bothering her about it, and it wasn't the usual. He turned his coffee cup on its saucer before lifting it again. "Now you'd like it to be different," he guessed. "And you're wondering why it can't be. Is this a genuine reflection," he waved his other hand at her. "Or is this going to be one of our pensive conversations where we go through all the reasons and where-fors, and in the end, nothing at all changes?"

Sharon exhaled sharply. She looked away and chewed on her bottom lip. "I'm…" She hesitated. "I'm not sure anymore. It seems a little ridiculous to worry about it this stage in my life. I'm a little old to be starting over."

"Oh please," he rolled his eyes at her. "Insecurity isn't very becoming on you sweetie. Speak, what's all the inner turmoil about, exactly."

She looked away and gave a soft moan. "I'm not entirely sure it should be discussed."

Gavin watched her shift in her seat, then she began fiddling with her hair. She drew it over her shoulder and toyed with the ends with one hand. His eyes widened suddenly. "What did you do?"

Sharon scraped her teeth across her bottom lip and lowered her face into her hands. "I think the more appropriate question might be who."

Both of his brows shot up. His coffee cup landed on it's saucer with a loud clank. "Oh my." Gavin sank back in his chair. He quickly lifted his hand and got the waiter's attention. "We're going to need some mimosas over here, dear. This has just turned into a celebratory occasion."

"Oh god." Sharon moaned again. She felt the heat rising to her cheeks. "Why am I telling you this. You're just going to make it all that much worse."

"Of course I am. Best friend's prerogative." Gavin smiled widely. "Since I know precisely how long it's been, I'm not going to ask the obscene question. No," he drew the syllable out. "What I am going to ask, since you've so wonderfully pointed me toward it, is who?"

Sharon dropped her hands and gave him a very pointed look over the tops of her glasses. "You're being entirely too gleeful about this." She sniffed, then huffed a sigh. "Oh, who do you think?"

"Hm, I'm not sure." Gavin tapped his fingers against his lips. "Let me think about this a moment. Too young, too naive, too old," his nose wrinkled at that prospect. "Oh, hm… Let's see, must be the frustratingly passionate Lieutenant Fl—"

"Shh," Sharon shushed him. "Don't actually say it," she looked around quickly. They were regulars at the upscale cafe, and it wasn't as though she worried what would be overheard, as it was that once Gavin said it, it would be real.

He chortled at her. "You're entirely too Catholic darling. You've got guilt, that means it was good. Not only run of the mill, scratch an itch good, but the go back for more kind of good. Now I understand it." He rubbed his hands together and grinned widely. "The guilt is because you are actually wishing now that you were not a married woman."

"Not necessarily." Sharon sighed. "It's always been there." She waved a hand, dismissively. "This is really nothing new, no I'm wondering if I've pushed myself toward this, because of the state of my marriage."

"Doubtful." Gavin snorted at her. "You aren't the spur of the moment type. Unless it involves shoes and handbags, you over think practically everything. Jack was here months ago, almost a year, and you're only just now acting on it? Please, that's hardly a case of rushing in to anything. I'm sure you worked yourself into quite a state of being suitably ulcer prone before you took the plunge. Congratulations." Their mimosas had arrived, Gavin toasted her with his.

"You're a horrible friend," Sharon decided. "You could be offering support right now, rather than boozing it up and outlining all of my not so great qualities." She sniffed, but lifted her own glass of champaign flavored orange juice.

"No, I'm a very good friend." Gavin pointed at her. "If you didn't want me to know, then you wouldn't have said anything. You'd have taken this one to your grave. You can be very close-lipped when you want to be, Sharon. Oh no, you had every intention of discussing this with me, possibly not today, but discussing none-the-less. Now it's out in the open. You can't take it back. We're celebrating because you need to celebrate. Stop being morose and all guilt-ridden. You lived in the moment." He wiped an imaginary tear. "I'm so proud."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him. "You're a pain." She huffed a sigh and lifted another croissant. "Is the problem more that I'm some kind of twisted glutton for punishment? Why now? Why not years ago when my life was less complicated. If I pursue this thing—"

"If?" Gavin snorted with gleeful laughter. "Yes, of course, if. Like you haven't already made that decision. You've already done the naughty, you're pursuing it. But yes, let's play in hypotheticals. If. You were saying?"

She glared at him. Her green eyes flashed with irritation that only made his smile widen. "It's going to be very complicated. We work together, and the need for objectivity—"

"Blah, blah, blah," Gavin rolled his eyes at her. With his hand, he was pantomiming her speaking. "You've been dating the man for about eight months, it isn't as if it's been a problem so far. Now you're sleeping with him, big whoop."

Her eyes were wide. "We were not, that was not… we were friends." Sharon took a long sip of her mimosa.

"Oh yes, friends." Gavin made a face. "Let's see," he leaned forward suddenly and fixed her with his sharp-eyed, attorney's gaze. "Exhibit A, his daughter's wedding. You didn't wear the blue Donna Karan because you were going as a friend. Exhibit B, the ballet, I seem to recall the black Valentino. You don't wear that dress when you're just hanging out with a very good friend. Let's not forget, of course, how many other incidents there have been which involved lunch, dinner, and… you brought him to Michael's premiere." He said of his ex, who happened to be a producer, and still a very good friend.

"That was a thank you," Sharon protested quickly, maybe even a little too quickly. "He wanted to see the movie, and he helped me out with a Rusty issue. I was just showing a little gratitude to a friend."

"Oh, you were grateful alright." Gavin smirked at her. "You were so grateful, you wore that red, fitted, cocktail dress. Darling, you've been dating, give it up. It's over, I know it, you know it. I promise you, he knows it. He's probably even wondering why you're with me today instead of with him, doing all sorts of nasty—"

"Gavin," she glared darkly at him. Her voice held enough warning note that he did actually stop this time. When he pouted at her, she folded her arms over her chest. "Fine. We were dating."

"Yes, my lovely." He drummed his fingers against the table. "What else?"

"What, what else?" Sharon frowned at him. "There isn't anything else. I'm dating a subordinate. You may feel superior now."

"Hm, tempting." His lips pursed. "Yes, very tempting indeed. But no, because I love you, I shall refrain. No, that isn't what I want to hear." He wriggled his fingers at her. "Come on, I'm waiting."

Sharon sighed. "Gavin." It was her turn to pout.

"No, you have to say it." He leaned forward, practically vibrating with anticipation. This was a moment he had waited quite some time for. "Come on, out with it. You'll feel so much better, I promise."

She groaned. Sharon reached up and curled her hair around the fingers of one hand. She glanced away, and after a moment, she sighed. "Oh alright." She shook her head and met his gaze. "Do it."

"No." He almost bounced in his seat. "Not good enough. I want to hear it. There can be no mistake this time."

She made a face at him. "You're horrible. You shouldn't be enjoying this so much. It's a terribly difficult thing, you know."

"Yes, I know," it didn't curb his enthusiasm any. He lifted his brows expectantly.

Sharon blew out a breath. Her jaw clenched in annoyance at him. "File the divorce papers, Gavin."

He leaned back triumphantly. "Finally!" He rubbed his hands together joyfully. "You know, this calls for more of a celebration. We're going to Rodeo Drive my darling."

With another groan, she dropped her face into her hands again. He did take such great pleasure in her life's drama. But a better friend she'd never had. "I hate you."

"You adore me." Gavin gestured for the waiter to bring the check. "If I weren't solidly batting for the other team, you'd have gotten rid of the bum years ago and married me."

She laughed, a light, musical sound. "Your ego really does need some pruning, honey. You also need a reality check. We'd have killed each other, we're entirely too much alike, and there's no way we could have afforded our shopping habits."

"You make a very good point. But it would have been so amusing." He handed over his credit card and leaned forward. "Am I offering him the same package as last time," he asked, mind returning to the more important subject of her divorce.

"Yes, I think so," Sharon nodded. Then she shrugged. "It doesn't really matter. I think I just want it over."

"It matters," Gavin reminded her. "I'll go with the original filing. You're not going to let him weasel you out of it this time," he warned, raising a brow at her.

"No," she promised. "No, this time I'm really done. The last time I still had hope. Jack has managed to completely squander anything that remained then. I'll never trust him again, and part of me will never forgive him. I pity him, for the most part. It's just time to call it what it was, and be done with it. I've moved on."

"Good girl." He signed off on the credit card slip and stood. Gavin moved around the table and took her chair while she rose. "I'll take care of it, don't worry about a thing." He took her arm and looped it through his. "Now, let's go spend an obscene amount of money."

Her eyes narrowed. "How obscene?"

"You're going to want sex therapy to recover from our retail therapy, sweetie."

She moaned. "Oh god."