A/N: Camilla rocks. Just sayin'.

Rusty POV

"Sharon, it's okay."

"It's not, Rusty. It's so not okay. It's…it's…"

She trailed off, and I could see the tears fill her eyes and her jaw is clenched, and I'm not sure if she's angry or upset, but she's most definitely something, and that makes me upset.

"I don't want this to be your problem," I insisted. "I can't let this be your problem. After everything you've done for me…"

"Rusty, stop," she interrupted. "You have to stop thinking about it like that. I've done for you what a mother does for her child."

Her statement was almost laughable, considering how this conversation began, and her abrupt end to what was most likely a long speech told me that she recognized it, too.

See, we've been discussing my actual mother, the one who gave birth to me, and the fact that Sharon knows my mom suggested I go back to my side work to raise bail money for her.

It's a topic that makes me sick to my stomach, both the thought of what I used to do and the knowledge that Sharon knows about it. And yeah, I know she's read my file and all, so it's not a surprise to her, but I really hate having her think about me like that, like I was back then. I've worked so hard to be a normal teenager, to be someone worthy of Sharon's love, and then to have that…that…ugly and shameful part of my past brought to light…

It actually made me angry with Lieutenant Provenza, at first.

"You pulled the footage? And you showed it to her?" I yelled at him, a little while ago when he joined me in the super-cubicle.

"She needed to see it," he replied calmly.

"Oh my God," I muttered as I began pacing. "Oh my God, I can't believe you did that. I told you I didn't want to make trouble for her. I told you that I wanted to take care of this myself!"

I paused for a moment and looked over at him, where he stood by the window, watching me with guarded eyes, and then I flashed back to a similar outburst I had in this very same spot, nearly two years ago.

Then, I'd acted like a child. I lashed out at Sharon, upset by the appearance of my birth father, and I'd said hurtful things, simply because I was hurting.

Lieutenant Provenza called me out on it that day, and rightly so.

I should be more mature now. I should be able to look at the facts of an unpleasant situation and go over my options.

I took a couple of deep breaths, and then nodded at the lieutenant as I got myself under control.

"What did she say?" I asked quietly.

"Nothing yet," he replied. "She left electronics and went straight to her office. I'm sure she'll come talk to you in a minute, but I wanted to let you know the situation."

So that you can get a handle on yourself and not act like a little brat, was the unspoken end to that sentence.

"Okay. Thank you, Lieutenant," I responded carefully.

It was only a few minutes after that when Sharon joined us, and after a few moments of silence during which time Lieutenant Provenza gave me a purposefully warning stare before leaving us alone, then Sharon started by telling me she'd like to go visit my mom.

"Why?" I asked cautiously.

"Because something needs to be done," she said, her voice shaky and firm at the same time, and I don't know how she pulls that off, but she does. "She should know better than to say what she did to you, and since she doesn't, maybe it's time she learned."

When I didn't respond, she continued, "I've been trying to stay out of it, but she pushed too far this time. When she hurts you like this…"

Her voice broke, and she stopped talking, and that's when I tried to tell her that it was okay.

And it is, because I didn't really expect anything more from my mother. I mean, yeah, it caught me by surprise when she asked me about making bail money. Because how hypocritical is that? One day scorning me for what I had to do to survive after being left alone on the streets, and the next day asking me to do it again so that I can help her get out of jail.

I hate her.

And of course, I love her. Although the fact that I do makes me question my sanity.

But what I really can't have is Sharon getting caught up in all of this. After all she's done for me, my thanks to her can't be dealing with my addict mother, and I told her that.

Which is when she summed up what mothers are supposed to do for their children.

Pretty much the opposite of asking them to whore themselves for bail money.

"What I mean is that you don't owe me anything," she clarified, as she reached out and put her hand on my forearm. "We're long past that. And as much as I want you to explore a relationship with your mother, I can't stand idly by while she tries to manipulate you into either doing something you don't want to do, or feeling guilty about saying no."

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, and I don't know how she does it, but I'm already feeling better about the entire situation.

She doesn't judge me. She never has, not from day one, even when I was being difficult and rude.

And as much as I didn't want her to know what my mother suggested, now that she does know, I have complete faith in her to do the right thing.

"Do you trust me?" she questioned. "To have your best interests at heart?"

"Sharon, of course I do. You know that."

She smiled at me and patted my arm before removing her hand and crossing her arms over her chest, and then she looked at me with tenacity, something that would frighten any suspect, as she said firmly, "She wants me to make her a deal, so I'm going to make her a deal."

Sharon POV

Rusty didn't ask for details, and he didn't question when I said it would be a good idea for him to put off visiting his mother for a few days. A week, maybe even.

I have no doubt she'll be furious by the time I'm finished with her, but that's fine because at the moment, I'm furious. She should be grateful that I'm not allowed to carry my weapon into the visiting area, or I might be tempted to just shoot her.

"Who does that?" I yelled at Andy earlier, when he and I were in my office. I went straight there from electronics, after watching the video, because I knew I was about to lose it.

Andy followed me, which was unexpected. He was worried, I know, but I was gearing up for a full-blown tantrum, and by the time I realized he was behind me, I'd already initiated the launch sequence.

I guess we'll test out that friendship now, I thought as I slammed the door closed once he was fully inside. I paused long enough to tug the cord on the blinds, closing us in completely and then I let loose.

"She's supposed to be his mother! It's not bad enough that she won't commit to rehab, but now she does this?" I shouted as I paced relentlessly. "How could she do this to him? And oh my God, how must he have felt when she asked him? She made him choose between selling himself and telling his mother no when she's asking for help. And then he wouldn't even tell me about it."

"He doesn't want you thinking about that part of his life," Andy reasoned, and if he was surprised or put off by my atypically raised voice, he didn't show it.

"I know that," I fired back. "You think I don't know that? She shouldn't make him think about it either! Especially when it's her fault he was in that situation. But he should be able to come to me when he needs help."

"It's a fine line, Sharon," he said smoothly. "The life he has with you, and what he had with her. There's all kinds of guilt tied up there, and she knows that."

I paced some more as the wheels in my mind turned, formulating a plan for what comes next.

It started while I was still in electronics, while the video was still playing, although admittedly my initial thought was that I wanted to strangle her with my bare hands.

My second thought involved using my gun.

My third thought was more rational. It involved searching for a solution that would benefit Rusty, which means figuring out a way to force his mom to help herself.

Because I don't want him to lose his mother. I just want her to be a mother, and put his needs ahead of her own.

I finally stopped pacing and turned to look at Andy, who was standing unobtrusively near the door.

"Okay," I stated before taking a deep cleansing breath. "Okay, I know what I'm going to do. I need to talk with Rusty, and then make a call to the DA, and then I'm going to have a chat with Sharon Beck."

"What can I do?" he asked me, and there's that look again. That open, soul-searching gaze that sees right through me. It's like there's nowhere he'd rather be than with me. It's humbling and exciting and terrifying, all at the same time.

I shrugged, unsure of what to say, so then he offered, "I'll drive you. You can make the call on the way. It'll save time."

I never would've suggested that, or even thought of it, but it's perfect because I want this to be done as quickly as possible. I want her to know that her days of using Rusty are over.

"Okay," I agreed as I managed a small smile and took a few steps towards him. "Thank you."

He smiled back, a warm and comforting smile, and it sent a feeling through me that I just don't have time to analyze at the moment.

But I'll come back to it.

Because this friendship we've been cultivating over the past several months seems to have grown into something unanticipated. Something complicated and exhilarating. And the fact that he's here, willingly beside me at such an unpleasant moment, that speaks volumes. I think we could be bordering on something really special. And maybe it's time to explore the possibilities.

As soon as I deal with Sharon Beck.

"And I'm sorry for…that," I said quietly, waving my hand in the general direction where I'd been pacing.

"It's not the first time I've heard you raise your voice. Probably won't be the last either," he said, his grin broadening into something more playful.

"True," I said with a nod, stopping next to him to place my hand on his arm. "I just needed to get that out before I talk to Rusty."

"Of course," he said quickly. "So you're good?"

I nodded again, squeezing his arm slightly before letting go and moving past him to the door. We left my office and he waited for me in the murder room while I went to speak with Rusty.

He was understandably upset, for a variety of reasons, and I did my best to ease his mind. I know he worries my opinion of him will change if I think too much about his past.

"Do you trust me?" I asked him as we wrapped up our discussion. "To have your best interests at heart?"

"Sharon, of course I do. You know that."

And I do know that. Once upon a time, he didn't. Back in the beginning, he questioned everything, always looking for an ulterior motive, and I get that. He'd never had a stable home, so he was simply waiting for the other shoe to drop. It took some time before he started believing that I wasn't going to get rid of him at the first opportunity, and it took longer yet for him to realize that I truly want him.

But we're in a good place these days. A really good place. He's happy and secure and he finally accepts that he can be successful, that his past doesn't have to dictate his future.

And now his mom is trying to drag him back down.

Over my dead body.

And since I can't kill her, then a year of forced sobriety might be the next best thing. If that doesn't change her perspective, then I'm not sure anything will, so it's where I think we have to start.

Andy POV

I waited in the lobby of the county jail while Sharon went in to see Rusty's mom. I'm holding her purse, which for some reason isn't bothering me at all. In fact, it was my idea.

"Don't give it to him," I told her as she approached the guard sitting behind the glass. "I'll hang onto it."

Cops never want to relinquish their weapon. It's something ingrained in us, and I figured it would be one less minor thing for her to worry about, if I'm the one holding her gun as opposed to handing it over to someone she doesn't know, even if that is his job.

Aside from that, women are usually particular about their purses. God knows the chief couldn't take a step without hers, although Sharon doesn't seem quite so obsessed. But still, I'm here in an effort to make a crappy situation as tolerable as possible for my friend, so I can hold her purse for a few minutes.

Sharon looked at me with an odd expression on her face, and I wondered briefly if that was crossing some kind of imaginary line, me holding her purse, but then she pulled her gun and holster from her hip and put it in the purse, along with her cell phone, and then she handed it to me before going back to the window with just her badge.

After checking in, she turned back to me.

"This won't take long," she said decisively.

I had been about to ask her if she was ready for the confrontation, but I didn't have to. Gone is the distraught and emotional Sharon from before, having been replaced with a very determined Captain Raydor.

If Sharon Beck weren't such a piece of shit, I'd probably feel sorry for her, because she has no idea what's about to hit her.

"It takes what it takes," I said with a shrug. "I'll wait."

She flashed me a brief smile, and seemed about to say something when the guard called to her.

"Captain Raydor? You can go in now."

I watched her go and that's when I sat down, as I am now, with her purse in my lap. It's open at the top, and the temptation to peek inside is almost overwhelming, but that would definitely be crossing a line, so instead, I worked on what to do next.

Buzz was taking Rusty to see a movie. Watching the video had gotten to him, too, and he wanted to do something for the kid, to help take his mind off things. I should probably just take Sharon back to her car, but I don't want to.

For months now, we've been getting to know each other better, spending more and more off-hours together, and it's to the point where that's all I want to do. Spend my off-hours with her. She's not there yet, I don't think. She's very protective of her privacy, and I respect that. But I don't think she should be alone this evening, not after such an emotional afternoon, so maybe she'll let me take her out to dinner.

The door clicked open after only five minutes, and there she was, looking fierce and vindicated and yet still very sad.

"Let's go," she said, breezing past me and heading for the exit. I put her purse on my shoulder and followed her out.

"She doesn't get it," she began as soon as we were on the sidewalk, heading for my car. "She can't understand why I'm being so mean to her, and she actually suggested I was acting without thinking of Rusty. Are you kidding me? I'm not thinking of Rusty?"

"She's still in denial," I said, settling my hand on the small of her back in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. "It'll take some time, but she'll get it."

She stopped abruptly, causing me to drop my hand as she turned to me with a look of concern.

"I did the right thing, right? Keeping her in jail?"

"It's absolutely the right thing. It's the only chance for her to get clean."

She dropped her head, putting a hand to her forehead as she considered my words, and then she asked softly, "Will Rusty think the same thing?"

I reached out and touched her shoulder, squeezing lightly as I said, "He knows she needs help, and that she can't do it on her own. Jail is the best place for her right now, and he's a smart kid. He knows that."

She looked up at me, her gaze searching mine for a minute, and then she nodded and said, "Thanks for coming with me."

"You're welcome," I responded, and we continued to stare at each other, with my hand on her shoulder, and the moment hung heavily between us, and for some crazy reason, I had the urge to kiss her. A strong, almost overwhelming urge. We've never done that before, but I've certainly felt the urge before, although never quite like this. And somehow, with the way she's looking at me, I think she might let me get away with it.

But I can't do it. Not right now. This afternoon has been an emotional roller coaster for her, and I'm certainly not about to make her life more complicated.

"You want to get some dinner? The kid'll probably be out a few more hours," I suggested as I finally removed my hand from her shoulder. "And you look like you could use a drink."

"Dinner would be nice," she said with a smile. We turned and continued walking towards my car and then she added, "Although you might want to change your shoes first."

"What?" I asked in confusion.

"They don't really go with the purse," she said in a conspiratorial tone, causing me to bark out a laugh.

"I forgot I had it," I admitted as I handed over the purse.

"A man secure enough in his masculinity to be comfortable carrying a purse…that's a rare find," she quipped, and I have to say it, the woman amazes me.

After what she just went through, she's out here making jokes. Maybe that comes from doing the right thing. She responded to Rusty's mom, did what had to be done, and now she can move on without continuing to dwell on it. It's an admirable quality.

"Hey, I'm a catch," I joked back. "I keep trying to tell you that."

She slipped her arm through mine, bringing her body close to mine as we continued through the parking lot.

"You don't have to convince me of that, Andy," she replied softly. "It's easy enough to see."

Her response had me stunned into silence because even though I'd been kidding, she didn't seem to be.

We got to my car much too fast for my liking because that meant she let go of me, stepping away as I opened the passenger door for her. I waited as she sat down, and then I closed the door and trotted around the back of car, going over to the driver's side and climbing in.

"So where do you want to go?" I asked as I buckled my seatbelt.

She didn't answer right away, so I glanced over at her and found her expression soft and maybe a little bit vulnerable, and then she held out her hand.

It took me a second to react, because holding hands isn't something friends do, or at least not me and Sharon, so I wasted a few seconds, looking at her hand and then back up at her, and then back down to her hand, and it finally hit me that it's clearly an invitation, so I flashed her a smile and quickly clasped my fingers through hers, letting our hands rest on the console between us.

It's probably crazy that a man of my age can get so excited over holding a woman's hand, but this isn't just any woman. And Sharon doesn't do anything without good reason. So maybe the idea of me and her isn't so farfetched after all.

Her gaze stayed on our joined hands for a moment, and then she looked up and gave me the most beautiful smile before turning to face forward, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes as she let out a sigh.

"I'm putting myself in your hands, Andy. I've made enough decisions today, this one's yours."

The End