Sharon leaned her head back against the headrest and let out a contented sigh. Two weeks of uninterrupted sunshine and wine in the south of France with her girlfriend was going to be heaven on earth. No defiant Provenza, no ass-kissing Sykes, no endless paperwork, no dead guys, no court; just her favorite colleague and counselor, sans her business suits. She crossed her legs and tapped Andrea's foot with her own, smiling up at the blonde as she caught her eye, thinking about the little black bikini she knew Andrea had packed.
"Andie, what's wrong?" she asked quietly, shooting Andrea a concerned look. She was positively gray in the face.
"Nothing," Andrea managed to mutter, her hands crossed politely in her lap. Andrea had been tense since they left the house, there was no denying it. How on earth she could be unhappy about this trip Sharon didn't know; it was kind of annoying if she was honest. Sharon rolled her eyes and peered out the window. She'd asked Andrea what was wrong about a million times since they'd left her Silver Lake neighborhood for the drive to LAX at sunrise. She was doing her best to be perky despite their early morning, but she was sick of asking and being met with Andrea's utter lack of excitement.
Andrea swallowed hard and closed her eyes. Great. She'd succeeded in pissing Sharon off. They were going to die somewhere over the Atlantic in what would no doubt be the worst ever plane crash to grace the seven o'clock news and she wouldn't even have the luxury of holding Sharon's hand while it happened. She knew she was being annoying. She was just so damn embarrassed to admit she was afraid of flying and Sharon was so excited about this trip. She sighed to herself and slipped her hand in-between Sharon's thighs, giving the soft muscle at the top of her slender leg a gentle squeeze. She kept her eyes closed, hoping Sharon just wouldn't question her again, though why she had any hope for that she didn't know. She knew Sharon well enough to know another question was right around the corner.
"Andrea, honey. What the hell is wrong with you?" Sharon finally muttered, slipping her own hand between her legs to lace her fingers between Andrea's.
The plane started to move down the runway and Andrea's grip tightened on the inside of Sharon's leg, her nails digging in to the older woman's flesh through her white linen trousers. Sharon winced a little and raised an eyebrow, watching as what little color Andrea had in her face drained out of it completely. "Oh, sweetie," Sharon smirked as the plane picked up speed and Andrea's eyes widened in what could only be explained as utter terror.
"What?" Andrea practically squeaked, white-knuckling the armrest next to her, her longs legs crossed tightly and braced against the seat in front of her.
Sharon removed Andrea's hand from the death-grip she had on her inner thigh and held it against her chest, a satisfied smile on her face. "My big, bad, criminal prosecuting girlfriend is afraid to fly?" Sharon smirked, planting a kiss on her hand.
Andrea rested her head against the seat and squeezed her eyes shut as tightly as she could as the plane left the ground. "Kind of like my ball busting cop of a girlfriend is terrified of spiders. Yea, something like that," She muttered, letting go of Sharon's hand to smack her thigh. Sharon let out a throaty laugh and rested her hand on Andrea's leg. "Good god, you're cute." She muttered, looking out the window.
The South of France in twelve hours. She couldn't wait for the second bruise Andrea would leave on her thigh upon landing.