Sharon rattled her keys in the lock to make sure Rusty knew she was home. She could hear the sounds coming from the gaming system or television in the living room, indicating that he was still up. It was just after 1 AM, and she knew he was ready to get on with things since his classes were coming to an end. She couldn't fault him for wanting to be free of his school burdens, but it was still only Friday, and he did have to get to class that morning.

Understanding? Yes, she could be. Wanting to deal with it? That was a whole other story. Rusty always complained that she was too hard on him, but he had no idea how many ways she gave him a head start to know she was about to return, allowing him precious seconds to fix whatever he had started, or to get out of the way with the evidence. Somehow he rarely used those seconds wisely, and she could never understand how someone living on the streets didn't sneak better. Ricky had it down to a science by the time he was Rusty's age, and Sharon was sure her daughter was born knowing how to be sneaky. Parenting, if anyone was to truly ask her, was part bribery, part threat, part reasoning, and a large chunk of ignoring. She was too tired to reason, threat or bribe. Why wasn't he helping her ignore his actions?

Sighing she rattled her keys just a little bit louder, but nothing. Perhaps he didn't hear her over the sound of the television, which for all intents and purposes, was too loud. While the walls in the building were well insulated, they weren't sound proof. She had to deal with it, she knew, reluctantly opening the door and pushing her way in.

The apartment was dark, save the light from the television. She couldn't see him sitting on the sofa. Perhaps he'd fallen asleep, she thought. That would explain why things hadn't been set right before bedtime.

She placed her bag on the table by the door, then toed her shoes off and kicked them under the table. Pulling her blazer off as she went, she started calling his name. "Rusty?" Nothing.

"Rusty, that's too loud and you have to go to bed." She said more loudly, then stopped dead when she saw who was on the sofa.

"Jack?" she practically screamed.

Asleep on her sofa was the man she believed was gone for good after last summer's power struggle on a case. He had done his usual sneaking away routine without a word to anyone, just the letter, but it had felt more final. Or perhaps she was the one who felt it was more final. Either way, she had changed the locks and packed away what was left of his personal belongings in her home. He had left with the suit. Why would he be back?

"Jack!" she demanded, shaking his foot to wake him up.

"Wha... what..." the man started, then looked around him. As soon as he saw her, he gave her a big smile that suggested either he chose to forget last summer, or all was forgiven. Knowing Jack, it could have been either one. The bottom line was always a new attempt to get into her good graces.

"What are you doing here, Jack?" she tried to glare at him, crossing her arms.

"Hey..." he said happily, then the tone changed, "Hey, something happened to my key, it's twisted or something. It wouldn't fit in the lock. Good thing that kid was here. Tomorrow we'll have to get another one cut from your key, okay?

Sharon rubbed her head wearily. It was going to be one of those visits... Jackson being on the defensive was much easier to deal with than Jackson pretending to be oblivious. She knew he was far too smart to be that stupid, but he liked to play the role of the ignorant. It was a way to wear her down, and as tired as she was, he probably sensed it wouldn't take long.

"I'll ask again, Jack, what are you doing here?" shaking her head, she looked up at him again, displeasure written all over her face.

"That's some greeting," he chuckled. "You're getting home awfully late, aren't you? Big case."

"Why are you in my home?" she tried again.

"Where else would I be when I'm in town?" he replied, as if it the most logical response in the world.

"Where's Rusty?" she sighed, knowing she wasn't going to get anywhere.

Jack reached for the remote and turned off the television. "Down in his room, asleep, I think," he said. "He seems better this year, Sharon, more confident. Guess all that business with the trial and everything helped.

"It did something," she mumbled, then headed down the hall and knocked on Rusty's door.

Slowly it opened, "Are you mad?" the teenager asked, looking guilty.

"What?" she couldn't quite make out what he meant.

Rusty took a deep, steadying breath. "Jackson was knocking on the door and it was like, really late, and he was yelling for you to let him in, and I thought at least if he's inside he won't bother the neighbours. Are you mad?"

She knew where this was heading, and how difficult Jack would be the following day, but she didn't have the energy to worry about it.

"No, I'm not mad," she sighed. "But I am concerned. It's late and you have school in the morning. I was going to go back downtown, but now with Jack here, I'll have to stay."

"You don't have to do that, Sharon," Rusty said, opening his bedroom door more fully. "I'll go to school tomorrow without argument. I'll even be early," he said with a half smile, hoping to show it was no big deal to him whether she stayed the night at home, or whether she went back to work. I can handle it. "I've got this."

Sharon looked back towards the living room, to see Jack plumping his pillows like a bird feathering it's nest. "I just..." she started.

"It's bad," Rusty asked. "The case, I mean. It's bad?"

"I hope not," was her reply. "I came home to change."

"Go back to work, Sharon. I'm okay with him here. Will you be okay?"

"Yes," she smiled at him. "Call me if you need me, okay? And don't let him talk you into anything... anything, understand?"

Rusty nodded, and smiled slightly when her realized she was not angry. Without much muss and fuss, she went to her bedroom and quickly replaced her office wear for something more weekend casual. She glanced down the hall to see that Rusy's door was closed, then she looked over at Jack, who was pretending to be asleep on the sofa.

Writing a quick note to Rusty, she slipped out the door.

This day couldn't get worse, she decided.