How could she have missed something that, when it was laid out in front of her, was so, so clear? She absent-mindedly tapped her pen against the blotter on her desk, letting herself be lost in her thoughts for a second.

There had been so much going on, so much to worry about, and Andy'd always been there, offering a shoulder, a hand on her arm…and then, something more.

Much more.

Their, well, his faux relationship had given them one of the templates they'd needed, shown them how their bodies would fit together so well during a slow dance, how warm his arm would be around her waist.

She'd had a chance to see how her skin would tingle and glow after pressing against his evening-rough cheek, almost but not quite needing a second shave by the time he brought her back to her place. And if she wondered how he'd feel hours later, rumpled and sleep-warm…well, she knew enough about him to extrapolate a good guess.

So, when the first real kiss happened, the first embrace, hard and breathless up against her front door, the first slow, steady fall onto her pristine bed, echoing the careful, then fluid moves of their first dance…she'd had something to go by.

Even if it was just in her imagination.

I'll do this, then he'll do that, then we'll… And then they'd be dancing their own steps, leading and following, moving together as long as the music of them played.

Even the later dance worked, the careful winding though department regulations, the push and pull between her and Taylor to make this work, her giving a little, him bending in return, Andy cutting in. She'd seen a few others navigate through this before. Not many, and not always well…but enough. Even one time can set a precedent.

Thoughts of their first night together brought a sheepish glow to her cheeks. And three times can turn that precedent into a rule of law.

Her gaze fell on the proof of immutable, unpleasant facts in front of her.

She wished she had a template for this.

.

.

.

Damn it, he'd watched her dress again before he picked out his clothes for the day. The subtle stripe in his tie was an exact match for the soft lavender of her blouse. Did he secretly take pictures of her clothes before he went shopping for himself or was his memory just that good? She fought the smile threatening to break through and kept her face as neutral as humanly possible.

"You wanted to see me, Captain?" Andy's tone was neutral as well, with that touch of Jersey jauntiness she'd come to find endearing.

"Yes, Lieutenant. Close the door, please."

His easy smile edged towards a hopeful smirk, then faded as her expression didn't change. Her eyes met his, and the "ready for business" look she found there gave her hope. He could look at her lovingly later…if he still wanted to.

She took her first tentative step into this new dance.

"Your monthly caseload logs haven't been updated yet, and it's the eighth of the month. These have to be in the system by midnight or they'll be overdue."

He slumped a bit in his chair, nodding at the reports on her desk. "Sorry, Sharon—Captain. I've been busy." Her quirked one eyebrow, as if silently reminding her of the reasons he'd cut his overtime back in recent weeks.

Sharon tapped her pen again, a little harder this time. "So have I. But we can't let things slide. You know that." I can't let you slide. Even if I would have before. Even if I'd let someone else slide, just this once.

She didn't like these new steps. They felt clumsy and stiff.

"Let things slide?" He was upright, leaning towards her now, flickers of temper beginning to show. "You forgetting I interviewed two of Julio's witnesses when his mom had to go to the doc's? And had both written up by the time he got back? And ran Syke's financials when Mike had to track down a judge for a search warrant?"

Misstep.

It was her turn to show some droop in her shoulders. Where had she been, when he was stepping up for the team? In a department head meeting? Cloistered in here, working on the upcoming budget?

"You're my boss, Captain Raydor." His look was as stoic as hers had been minutes earlier.

Unsparing.

"It's your job to know who's doing what in your department." His features softened and she thought she caught the rhythm of them again. "You can't let that part slide, either."

Had she? Since their relationship had come out, she hadn't wanted to pay too much attention to Andy in the office, afraid it'd be too obvious, taken the wrong way. Taylor's "don't get cozy on company time, if you get my drift" had rung in her ears ever since he'd said them, a constant workplace chaperone.

"Why didn't you let me know earlier about what you were doing?" Her tone was sharper than she meant it to be.

"I didn't want it to look like I was in your office every chance I got." His tone matched hers, and she heard his echoing frustration.

"Work with me here, Andy." Her voice lowered. "I'm doing the best I can but I'm making this up as I go—and it's not easy."

He nodded, finally giving her a sympathetic half-smile and brushing the back of her hand as he picked up the report.

"Yeah, but we knew that going in." He glanced down at the report. "Hey, lemme see your pen a minute."

She handed her pen over and watched him flick through his pocket notebook, making marks on the report here and there. She leaned forward, then gave up trying to read upside down and walked around her desk to stand behind him, looking over his shoulder. His cologne had lost its morning sharpness and mellowed into what she'd come to think of as his afternoon summer scent. She gave herself a few seconds to enjoy it, then focused on his work.

"I entered this one, but it had to go under S.O.B.'s code, not ours, remember? And this one"- he tapped the page –"we got clearance to pend this until we got the ID confirmed."

She leaned over him. She was so close to his face right now. If he, or she, turned just an inch…

She sighed and settled for resting her arm lightly on his as she looked at the final tally.

"And I entered these two this morning. They're not showing up on here yet." He wrapped his hand around her forearm for a quick, reassuring squeeze.

"So that's just three. That's…what, forty-five minutes' work?"

"Maybe an hour, if the system's running slow." He turned in his chair to look at her. "If somebody would start sautéing the ground tofu as soon as they got home…"

She felt herself relaxing into a whole-body grin. Yet another good reason to keep coming to work in separate cars.

"I think I can handle that. Two cloves of garlic, right?"

He frowned slightly as he got up. "It's three cloves, but only after the chopped onion's browned just a little." His expression cleared as they walked together to her door.

He reached for it the same time she did, and for a second they stepped around each other, pretending they were still talking about his grandmother's vegetarian-modified recipe.

"I know it's something new to you, but it'll come together," he said.

"Like waltzing at weddings." She raised one eyebrow. "A little awkward at first, but it gets easier…the more you do it." There was no one close enough to hear her add a breathy enunciation to the last few words.

Other than Andy, who turned a satisfying shade of coral at the edge of his collar before heading back to his desk.

Sharon came back to her workspace, making a slow pirouette as she looked at the files and records she'd need at hand tomorrow, then the logs she'd go over one last time, the correspondence in her "Out" basket, the checked-off items on her calendar. She was satisfied she'd done a good day's work, even with the addition of some new and unfamiliar steps. She hummed a snatch of the tune they'd danced to the night before, feet light as she went to her coat rack.

She slipped into the tailored jacket and allowed herself a playful, graceful half-spin, relieved happiness bubbling up inside her.

All in all, not a bad coda to their first workplace pas de deux.