Her arm draped leisurely over his bare hip. His arms wrapped around her as their kissing intensifies. He rolls her over, wanting to consume her.
She tilts her head to the side, hearing something, though she isn't sure if it's the creaking of her bed or his breathing. She closes her eyes a moment as he trails soft kisses down to her collarbone, then putting her hand on his chest when he picks his head up again, his golden cross dangling from his neck, just below her chin. "Andy, quiet. Wait a minute." She whispers.
"Sharon, come on." Andy matches her tone, rolling his eyes when she gives him a look.
Sharon rises from the bed, "Someone is in the condo." She grabs her silk robe from behind the door, quickly pulling it onto herself and tying it tightly.
"What?" He makes a face, "It's probably something outside."
She shakes her head, grabbing her pistol from her bedside table, "Just stay here." The Christmas season. The tree glows in the living room, illuming the space. Sharon slowly moves along the wall, seeing two young women with her son. She clears her throat, letting her arm down slowly.
One young woman jumps, clothed in a classy hunter green dress, but able to make it casual with a pair of leggings and boots. She stares to the woman in the hallway, becoming very apparent of the gun in her hand, "Do we have the wrong place?" Her eyes wide.
The other woman, broad shouldered and tall with a thick plaid shirt over top of a black tank top, "No, idiot. We're just bringing him here and dropping him off. That's all." She picks her head up, standing straighter, the young man hanging halfway off the sofa, "Hello." She wants to run, wants to race out of this fancy high rise.
Sharon nods slowly, "Where are you coming from?" Her tone quiet, even, nearly monotone.
"Office party." The plaid shirt folds her arms, it's a lie, Sharon knows it's a lie, "Lots of drinks, but I think he might have done something else." She shrugs, "Don't know what." She slowly smiles, "You're really beautiful."
She nods again, "You don't know if he consumed anything else?"
"Two of them got high in the bathroom." She motions to the skirt and the young man on the sofa.
"I got high with Rusty in the bathroom." The skirt replies softly.
Sharon moves over slowly, "Don't move." She says quietly, as she looks down at the boy, "He willingly consumed alcoholic beverages?"
The plaid shirt begins to laugh, "He didn't even know. He kept chugging cokes and we were putting a little of this and a little of that in there." She shakes her head, "Look, why do you have a gun anyway? You a cop? Part of the Cartel?"
"How did you know to come here?" Sharon watches the two young women, carefully, unsure if they would try to harm her or steal anything from the apartment.
"It was on his license." The broad shouldered woman answers matter-of-factly.
"Did he have any baggage, luggage with him?"
"No, not that I saw."
Sharon knows she's telling the truth, for the most part, something in her eyes. "So, marijuana and alcohol?" When the young woman nods, "Are you sober?"
"I drove here."
"That wasn't the question."
The plaid shirt nods, "Allergic to the stuff."
"Driving safely, I want you to go home. If your friend starts wheezing, hyperventilating, breathing slowly, or getting a rash, I want you to take her to the hospital immediately." Sharon slowly lowered herself in front of the sofa, stroking Rusty's hair, "Have a pleasant holiday." She watches the two young woman exit her apartment via her peripheral vision.
"The hell was that?" Andy exits the bedroom, clad only in boxers. He places his hands on his hips.
Sharon swallows, stroking the young man's hair, "They were dropping him off. He's baked...drunk. I don't know if he took anything else. If he did, they didn't know about it."
He snorts, "Sounds like a party." He walks closer, turning on the lamps near her, "Sam?"
She shakes her head slowly, "Rusty." She leans forward, softly kissing the young man's brow, "Andy, you go ahead back to bed. At least one of us will be able to function in the morning."
"Then you should. I mean...it's Christmas Eve tomorrow. Nicole has the thing, which will be different with my own grandchild." Andy smirks, "You're the Captain. Your job is more important."
Sharon glances up to him, "I'm not going to be able to sleep, even if I tried. It's okay." She starts to slowly get up, "I need to get a bucket, some water, and a towel."
He waves for her to sit back down, "I've stayed here enough times to know where things are."
That aspect of their relationship terrifies her, even after six months, it still does. She really likes Andy. Since the finalization of her divorce, she's entertained the notion of spending time with him on a romantic level. He's good hearted, funny, and her grandchildren love him. However, since Rusty was still away at college and Samuel was busy with his new job as a librarian, the only know to know more of the details of the relationship was Quinn. Thankfully, her daughter has never been one to gossip. Not to mention their constant need to keep it professional at the office. However, there are more pressing matters to worry about, such as why didn't Rusty bother to tell her he was coming home for the holiday and what party could he possibly been to? Sharon slowly removes the young man's shoes.
Andy carries the things she needs and sets them on the coffee table, "Wouldn't it be better to get some cool water on him, maybe stay in the bathroom if he starts to puke?" He folds his arms, "When he starts to puke?" He corrects himself.
"I can do it. You have a bad back." She shakes her head.
He raises an eyebrow, "Yeah, but if I hurt myself, I can bet on a backrub from you later." Andy slowly loops his arms under that of the young man, groaning when he slowly drags him off the sofa.
"Andy, please be careful." Sharon gently touches the older man's shoulder, "Don't try to lift him to put him into the clawfoot tub, just drag him under the shower."
"I know." The man grunts again, "It's cute that you think I'd lift this lug up more than I already have to." He shakes his head, "Get him some clothes to change into, maybe. Wet jeans are never comfortable."
"You're right." She nods, "I'll take two minutes. Wait for me." Sharon scurries to the bedroom, surely there had to be something either Rusty or Samuel left behind from their time in the guest room. She nods, managing a pair of flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt, knowing it's usually what he wears to bed. She removes her silk robe and pulls on a longer t-shirt. Not her usual cotton nightgown, but it will have to do.
Andy waits for her, able to drag him into the glass shower. He turns the water on when she finally reaches the room, "Come on, Rusty." He calls to him, "Come on, kid."
Sharon swallows, hearing Andy. She moves closer, kneeling outside the draining area of the glass shower, "Rusty, honey."
Rusty hears Sharon. He knows her voice, very well, too well. He slowly squirms under the cold temperature of the water, "The fuck is this..." He mumbles, hearing the water being turned off. Rusty blinks slowly, smiling to her, "Hey."
"Hello." She smiles, reaching in and gently pushing back his wet hair with her nails.
Rusty's eyes open more, feeling the acidic bile rise in the back of his throat. He scrambles to his knees, a forceful vomit leaves his lips over the drainage area of the shower, "I feel sick."
"Good." Andy mumbles.
Sharon gives the older man a look, "I've got it from here. Go to sleep."
He nods, leaning down and kissing her lips softly, "Goodnight. Wake me up if you need me." Andy leisurely leaves the enclosure of Sharon Raydor's bathroom, returning to her bedroom. Very aware that the kid isn't going to be used to his presence, or maybe wouldn't even want him there. They'll deal with it tomorrow.
Retching. It was becoming an almost nightly occurrence. However, she wasn't the one it was happening to this time. Sharon rises from the bed of the small two bedroom apartment she shared with her husband. An unmistakable sound, she heard it again. Reaching the bathroom that was just off the master bedroom, she sees her husband, the same husband who she hasn't seen in nearly a month. "Jack?"
"Stay back. Stay back. I don't want you sick." Jack slurred.
She rolled her eyes, the distinctive smell of whiskey permeates the air, "Yeah, what's wrong with you?" Sharon folded her arms over her pregnant belly, "It's two and...I thought you left. The clothes were gone from your drawers...you left a suit in the closet." She made a disgusted face when he lurched again.
"Fuck." He groaned, resting his face against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat.
Sharon moved closer to him, slowly kneeling next to the man and rubbing his back, "How much did you have?"
"Don't remember. Enough." He continued to slur, "They just kept coming and coming and I couldn't stop them. It was so hard. I was on a roll, Shar. I was on a fucking roll. Up three hundred, at least."
"And where did that go?"
"Don't even know. I won and I don't even know where it went." He shook his head, then rested it on the other side of the toilet seat so that he could look at her. A smirk slowly crept across Jack's face, "You're so beautiful, Sharon. So beautiful. Your husband is so lucky."
She rolled her eyes, "Maybe he is, but I'm not." Sharon shook her head, watching him, "Take your clothes off. I'll go and get you some water."
"Aren't you gonna let me kiss you first?" He hummed a laugh, "Ordering me to take my clothes off like you're some kind of police officer or something. You just miss me."
"Jackson, there will be no, under any circumstances, sex for you at the end of this night. Quinn is asleep, keep your voice down." She stood slowly, using his back as leverage to do so before walking out.
Quinn Raydor reaches a hand over to her vibrating mobile phone. She swipes her finger across the screen before bringing it to her ear, not looking to see who was calling, "Hello." She blinked, "Where are you?"
"Who is it, baby?" The low tone voice of the man in bed with her mumbles, keeping his eyes closed. A hand possessively around her middle.
"Quiet, Tate." She whispers to him over the phone, "Jack, I'll be there in a half hour." Quinn touches the screen of the phone, sighing as she slowly drags herself out of bed, turning on the bedside lamp to the lowest setting.
"Who was that?" Tate's groggy voice fills the room as he rubs the place where she was sleeping with his hand, he playfully whimpers.
Quinn sighs, "If I'm not back in time, I'm going to need you to get the kids up and going this morning. That okay?"
"Of course." He turns over, watching as she gets dressed, shielding his eyes from the light with his other hand.
"They'll be up in a few hours." She pulls on her bra and panties. Then a pair of jeans she wore the night before to her company's holiday party, "But if they aren't up by nine, wake them up at nine."
"I know how things work, I've lived here a while now." Tate sits up, rubbing his face, with his large hands, "Slow down. Who was that on the phone?"
Quinn throws her purse onto her shoulder, sighing as she opens the bedroom door, leading to the hallway, "That was my father. He's been arrested."
Sharon entered the visiting area of the prison, smiling broadly to her daughter. She hugged the young woman closely before she sat down, "Why does it always seem like the time is getting longer and longer between the times I'm able to visit?" She held the young woman's hand, making sure her badge was easily seen before she even came in so that the guards wouldn't try to hassle her.
"Seems that way." Quinn nodded, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, "How are the kids?"
"They're doing great at daycare. Finn is more of an independent player...as they like to call it-"
"He's a loner. Big fucking surprise."
Sharon smirked, "Exactly, and Harper was placed in time out the other day for smacking a little girl across the face when said other girl stole a carrot from her bowl." She hummed a laugh.
Quinn giggled, "You're kidding."
"Not at all."
The young woman laughed even harder, "That will teach her not to steal someone else's food." The joy slowly tapered off, "Any word from Rusty or Sam?"
Sharon slowly shook her head, "Well, Rusty calls almost everyday. He's doing really well, he says. I think he misses home though. Sam...you know how your brother is. I won't find anything out from him until it's too late."
Rusty slowly begins to stir, sore. Where was he? This all looks familiar, but not familiar enough. He looks up, seeing Sharon. He's lying with his head on her lap. He's comfortable, but can feel the aftereffects of vomiting, his chest hurts, his back hurts from sleeping on the tile. Rusty just breathes, not wanting to move. He knows Sharon will hurt more than he does. He closes his eyes again.
Sharon absently brings her hand to the young man's face, stroking the hair at his side burns. She leans against the glass door of the shower, having slept here all night, legs folded with her son's head in her lap, her head tilted to the side. She begins to move her head, moaning when she feels a sharp, shooting pain from the position she slept in.
The young man wraps his arms around her waist, more comfortable as he holds her closer. He worries about her.
She hums softly, feeling his arms. Sharon continues to stroke his head, "Good morning." Her deep groggy voice of gravel says softly, "How do you feel?"
"Like shit." He keeps the tone of his voice down, his head pounding from the light illuminating the room through the closed window slats.
"Want me to get you some aspirin and water?" Sharon manages to lean over, kissing him softly above his ear. Her back hurts, but she wouldn't dare complain, not with her son in pain.
"Don't want to move...don't want you to move either." Rusty says softly.
"It can be darker in the living room, you know." She smirks, keeping her voice low as well.
Andy walks to the bathroom after noticing Sharon never came to bed the night before. He knew she would do this. He knew she would stay with the kid through the night. His loafers click against the wooden floor before he peeks his head into the bathroom. The kid is probably hungover. "Feeling better, kid?" He calls into the small space.
Rusty moans, wanting to cry almost. He's never felt like this before and he never wants to again. He doesn't even know why he feels this way.
"Not funny." Sharon glares toward the older man, keeping her voice low.
"Sorry." Andy smirks, lowering his tone and placing his hands on his hips.
"I called out today." She nods to her boyfriend, letting him know she's going to take care of Rusty, but she would never make the young man think he was the reason for her to miss work, "I have some last minute wrapping to do and things. Give my apologies to everyone."
"You got it." He leans down, giving her a peck on the lips, "Call me if you need anything. I mean it."
"Thank you." Sharon smiles softly to him, watching him walk away.
"He was here all night?" Rusty mumbles.
She hums a positive sound, "Is that okay with you?" She isn't mocking him, or even teasing him.
"Yeah. I'm glad." He groans when he moves a little, "Can we go lay in bed or something? Watch TV? Go back to sleep?"
Sharon nods, chuckling softly to herself, "My bed it is, then."