Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or settings below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.
Pairing: Sharon/Andy
Rating: T (for now)
Summary: A case from Captain Raydor's past - threatens to destroy her present.
Currently in canon, until season 2 inevitably pushes it into AU territory.
Author Notes: Okay folks; here is my first story set in Major Crimes land!
Now, don't y'all be mad; I haven't watched all of The Closer (just the last few seasons…well, the episodes with MM in anyway ;)) so if I have screwed something up time-line or character wise, please PM me and let me know so I can change it!
Oh and I posted on LJ months ago requesting for a beta for this story and I had volunteers…but I can't remember who they were *Doh!*. So…. if my poor grammar grates on you, or you have a little spare time and a lot of MC knowledge…please can you be my beta for this story? *smiles sweetly*
You'll Get Yours - Chapter 1
"Rusty?" Sharon called down the hallway in the direction of the boy's bedroom, as she fastened the clasp on a silver hooped earing. "Would you come out here a minute?"
"What is it?" Rusty yelled back in typical teenage fashion.
"If you come here you'll find out," she retorted, resting her hand on the back of the burnt-orange coloured armchair- so she could slip her stocking clad feet into a pair of manolo blahniks.
"Fine," she heard him huff as his bedroom door flew open. He careened down the hall, tucking his pale blue school shirt into his pants as he walked, "but just so you know - I was gonna put that plate in the dish washer once I…"
He stopped short when he caught a glimpse of a decoratively wrapped box sitting in the centre of the coffee table.
"W…what is that?" Rusty pointed to the ambiguous item, a frown creasing his brow.
"What does it look like? " Sharon said sarcastically through a smirk, buttoning the front of her blazer - before crossing her arms at her chest.
"It looks like a gift."
She looked over her shoulder at the package, "you know what? It does look like a gift." She brought her gaze back to meet his - smiling broadly. "Happy Birthday, Rusty."
"For me?" The young man's eyebrows retreated under his floppy blonde hair, as he gestured towards his chest with a thumb.
"It is your birthday today, isn't it?"
"Well yeah, but I never talked about it…I,"
"You think I'd forget a thing like that?"
"Well my mom…" Rusty shrugged dismissively and looked to the floor. "…never mind."
Sharon offered him a tight, knowing smile and swiftly moved the conversation on; "so, are you going to open it?"
He brought his gaze back up to meet hers; grinning boyishly. "Can I?"
"Go ahead." She stepped aside and Rusty rushed to the table, making short work of the stripy wrapping paper – his eyes wide with excitement.
Sharon grabbed her blue trench-coat from a hook by the door as she watched him; it warmed her to see him so genuinely happy. Since his emancipation from Daniel Dunn, Rusty was going from strength to strength. He was now truly putting his past behind him; agreeing to meet with a councillor and recently he had even been talking about colleges.
He deserved a treat.
"No way!" Rusty exclaimed; looking back at Sharon - beaming.
"Is it the right one? Julio informs me that it's the best for online gaming and I…oh…" Sharon was taken aback when the young man leapt to his feet and threw his arms around her waist; gripping her in a fierce hug – as if it was the most natural thing to do in the world.
Yet it wasn't; familial affection was still very new to their relationship.
But Sharon relaxed quickly - returning the gesture and giving him a tight squeeze; assuring Rusty that his reaction to her gift was completely acceptable.
When he pulled back, shoving his hands in his pockets - he looked at his shoes; clearly embarrassed by his outburst. "Thanks, Sharon," he muttered. "You're the best…"
"Good to know," she said good humouredly, before taking hold of his shoulders and spinning him around to face his bedroom. "Now go - get ready for school."
"But it's my birthday," he protested weakly, moving forward at a snail's pace.
"Go on," she shooed him out of the sitting room, "and we've still got time to iron that shirt you are wearing."
He stopped walking and looked down at the crumpled garment, before turning back to face her "but I'm wearing a jacket."
Sharon raised her eyebrows and eyed him over the top of her glasses, "All day?"
"Fine," he said with an exaggerated eye roll and skulked off to his room to get ready – but not before poking his head back out of the door and adding - "thanks, Sharon."
She smiled warmly at him, "you're welcome, Rusty."
xXx
Twenty minutes later (which was five minutes longer than Sharon was happy with), they were ready to leave. Rusty lead the way as Sharon grabbed her keys from the phone table and followed closely behind; but when the boy stopped dead in his tracks and bent to collect something from the doormat - Sharon almost ran right into the back of him.
"Rusty, what are you doing?" She asked exasperatedly, "we're going to be…" her sentence trailed off when she noticed the large red envelope he clasped in his hand. "What's that?"
Rusty turned the envelope over in his hand, inspecting what appeared to be a greeting card – but it wasn't for him. "And I thought it was my birthday." He handed it to Sharon, "here, it's addressed you."
"To me?" She frowned as she accepted the proffered envelope, running a detective's eye over the mysterious delivery for some kind of clue as to who it might be from; there was no postage paid – it had to have been hand delivered.
"Don't tell me you like, got me the most awesome gift in the world and I've gone and missed your birthday?" Rusty asked; concern evident in his tone.
"What?" She met his eyes briefly before returning her attention to the envelope. "No…it's not my birthday for another month…"
It appeared to Rusty in that moment, that Sharon had paled somewhat. "So…are you going to open it?" He asked the obvious question.
"Yes," Sharon said decisively as she snapped her gaze up to meet his and passed him the car keys. "You go ahead and meet me in the parking garage."
"Okay…" Rusty drew the word out as he took the keys; signifying his bewilderment. They were already running late for school – this would make them even later; she was exhibiting very un-Sharon like behaviour.
"Go, Rusty," Sharon said more sternly this time – using her best 'mother tone'. "I'll be down in just a minute."
"Fine." He conceded and turned on his heel; as he wandered down the corridor Sharon closed the door softly behind him.
xXx
As he pressed the button and waited for the elevator to arrive, Rusty found himself wondering if in fact - Sharon had herself a secret admirer.
'The envelope was red; Valentines cards come in red envelopes don't they?'
Even though Valentines Day wasn't for another few months, a sinking feeling began to form in the pit of the young man's gut; the thought of a man coming into their lives resurfaced anxieties from his past.
'If Sharon had a man in her life, would she still want me around? My mom didn't…'
xXx
Sharon was rooted to the spot by the front door. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, as shaky hands began to open the glued-down flap on the red envelope.
'It can't be from him…' she told herself in an effort to calm her nerves – but when she removed the card from its paper confines her worst fears were confirmed.
'Not again…It can't be…he's behind bars…'
In slow motion she watched the card fall to the floor. She reached out to grab the edge of the nearby phone table for support; her stomach flipped and her head swam as Sharon experienced the onset of her first panic attack in almost fifteen years.
'The card was hand delivered…'
She slowly sank to her knees and closed her eyes tightly – breathing deeply and slowly in an effort to regain control and fight off the burgeoning wave of nausea that threatened to take hold.
Minutes passed and Sharon began to calm; the panic now subsiding, she opened her eyes and stared wide-eyed at the item on the floor before her.
Inside the greeting card, decorated with a cute picture of a kitten on the front, was a lone scrawled message; a single sentence that Sharon Raydor had read many times before…
'You'll get yours, Bitch.'
TBC
Thanks for reading
As always, any comments are welcomed – I don't bite and I will respond ;)!