This story is an add on to the episode "Four of a kind" (4x11). A little something that takes place right after the last moment in the murder room and before the beautiful breakfast scene. My muse didn't really let them go to bed right away ;)

Bug thanks go to Robin and amazing Kate04us who helped me with it. All mistakes are mine but not the characters with those I only play.

The cover is made by Kate as well. Thank You dear.

Enjoy!

Everything hurt.

There was not a part of Andy Flynn's body that was not throbbing, aching, or pulling. With every movement, even the slightest one, the pain spread through him without mercy leaving him defeated. Even something as involuntary and natural as breathing resulted in immense fatigue.

Andy blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the soft light beaming from the lamp on the nightstand that someone had left on for him. His eyelids felt heavy and it cost him every last bit of energy he still possessed to keep them open. He felt disoriented. The unfamiliar surroundings made him question his sanity for a split second. He gazed around the room and it took him a long moment to understand where he actually was. He had only been in this room a few times before. He recognized the artful chair in the corner and the painting that caught his attention right away. Maybe he wasn't really an art expert or anything, but it was hard to forget the colorful display of affection between two people portrayed on it. He was sure it was Sharon's choice. She had an impeccable sense of style. He loved that about her and it was one of the qualities that kept him so enthralled with her.

Andy turned his head and tried to focus his attention on a framed photo of Rusty with his cranky partner. For a brief moment he wondered how many problems they all would have to face because he was occupying this room. The kid, he thought for sure, would have issues with it. Whatever the issues would be, he decided, he would face them, hopefully with Sharon by his side.

His throat felt dry and it was getting harder and harder to swallow. A bitter taste in his mouth made him grimace. Andy would kill for some cranberry and soda just now, to mask the tang at least. His head was pounding, more like hammering, through his scalp with an awful intensity. So this was hell, he mused. Thankfully, on the nightstand there was a glass of water and some Tylenol. They did little to cover the pain, but they were all he'd allow himself to take. At least, he thought they will take the edge off.

The last hours were a blur of jumbled images. His brain was clouded with pain and he couldn't really remember what had happened, and most of all, how he had ended up in this very bed. The last thing he could recall was Sharon's breathless voice telling him over and over in gentle tones "It's going to be okay. Breath," as his knees buckled underneath him. He had leaned on her for support, hoping not to find himself on the ground again. Once during the day was more than enough, even for him. She had settled him into a chair in her office, her hand slowly caressing his bruised skin as they waited together for the paramedics. He remembered the sound of her softly whispered words of encouragement. He was sure he had heard Provenza calling him idiot here and there, but not much more. He must have passed out a little after the paramedics or a doctor had checked on him and cleared him to go home. The ride to her condo was also ripped from his memory. Sharon had said earlier in the day that they would get him home, but he hadn't imagined he would find himself at her place. He had a brief recollection, like seeing through a foggy cloud, of the elevator ride, his back pressed against the cold wall and strong, male arms around his waist keeping him upright. He wasn't even sure if it had been Buzz or Julio. Damn, he wished that this mind of his would at least help him out a little, so he would know who had changed him from his work suit into a soft gray shirt and baggy, comfortable pants.

Not knowing was disconcerting, at best.

Andy tried to sit up, but a sharp pain roared through his body with intensity, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He groaned loudly in protest at this awful misfortune that he was enduring. He didn't want to be a burden to anyone. He could take care of himself. It wasn't the first time his body had throbbed in agony and he had made it through just fine. How could Provenza have let this happen? Why had he allowed him to be here? As soon as he got better he would kick the old fart's ass for letting Sharon take him to her home. The last thing he needed was to be her patient. It was his pride talking, yes. However, accepting help was not something Andy did easily, not when he had so little power over his own body and the resulting frustrations. He would not be his cheerful self, and controlling his responses all the time around her and the kid would be too damn hard. There was a fear in the back of his mind that he might lose her over this. They were being forced into this situation, and if he let her see him in this foul mood, grumpy because his body wasn't healing as fast as before, she might actually change her mind and cut his sorry ass loose. He wasn't a young man anymore. Even on a good day his back would ache, his knees would pop and his neck would sting, but this was another level of pain. Of course they weren't delusional about their age, but somehow the mere thought of her actually witnessing his struggles made him cringe.

This truly sucked.

Andy tired to find out what time it was. Everything seemed so timeless. The painkillers he had taken a moment ago hadn't kicked in yet, and it was hard for him to focus. His mind was floating, his body was heavily anchored to the bed. This current situation was a conundrum, the feeling was like being suspended in midair while being bolted to the surface of the bed at the same time. It didn't make any sense. From what he gathered, it was the middle of the night, but it couldn't be that late. He noticed the hallway light through the door, which someone had left the standing slightly ajar. He was sure it was in case he needed help. She'd thought of everything, and somehow that notion made him even more agitated.

This was harder than he expected.

Here, alone with his thoughts, the dark shadows weren't allowing him to find any peace. His mind kept overthinking, running around in circles of frustrating emotions, each bringing more and more gloom to his spirit. This was never how he imagined his sleeping at her place for the first time would be. He closed his eyes and tried, with more force this time, to get up.

As soon as he braced himself with his elbows on the mattress and attempted to lift his torso, his cracked ribs reminded him what state his body was actually in. Andy swore underneath his breath as the surge of agony overtook him once more. This time the sting of tears started to form in the corners of his eyes and he fought to hold them back. Son of a bitch.

His breathing became labored. He needed to calm it fast before a new wave of pain would overwhelm him.

A soft knock on the door caught his attention. The door opened slowly with a quiet squeak. The sound assaulted his ears making him more on edge. Andy decided that as soon as he was out of this bed, he would oil the door and maybe do some other little things around the house. He remembered now that she had been talking the past few months about putting up new shelves in the living room, but she hadn't found the time for it. Yes, once he was out of this bed, he could at least do that for her.

With some hesitation Sharon let herself into the room.

When he saw her, his eyes finally found focused on the beautiful vision that she was. Something he could hold onto, a focal point that would stop the room for spinning and aid the dizziness in passing quickly. Even clad in a simple t-shirt, which he had no doubt was his, and black yoga pants, her hair pulled loosely up on the sides, and with a huge pillow hugged to her chest, she looked simply gorgeous.

"Oh, you're awake," she said with a hint of surprise, gently closing the door behind her. Her back leaned against the wooden surface as her eyes carefully scanned him. He looked pale, his usual rosy color was gone. His typically warm eyes seemed glassy and unfocused. She noticed droplets of sweat forming on his forehead and was sure that if she touched him, his skin would feel clammy.

"Barley," he husked out on a long breath, regaining some control. He kept his eyes on her, afraid that she might disappear if he closed them even for a blink. There was a certain vulnerability written on her features. She worried at her nails, her fingers nervously caressing the pillow, as she silently regarded him.

"Can I get you anything?" The question left her mouth so quickly and so suddenly, it seemed as if her mind had come up with those words automatically the second she had seen him lying helplessly in bed. The thought that she would be asking him this many times in the days to come was making him feel self-conscious, apprehensive. He never wanted her to see him as someone needy and weak.

"No." he said curtly. Upon seeing her reaction, her teeth biting her lower lip and her chin resting on the pillow, as though hiding behind it, he followed up with a quiet, "thank you."

The air in the room shifted. It felt heavy and uncertain. They remained motionless, just staring, eyes speaking to each other with the words that died in the silence. It suddenly felt uncomfortable, the situation itself almost on the edge of becoming bizarre. Usually the communication between them flowed easily. They had found a way to be heard by one another, to share not only silly jokes and disarmingly sweet words, but they had started to learn how to voice real issues and concerns, how to discuss them without worrying about being misunderstood. There was a balance they had created and were working hard to maintain. Would this new situation make them lose their precious equilibrium? They were in need of a long talk, and maybe even a shouting match to release all the emotions of the past hours, all the fears and doubts that the day had brought upon them.

As far as Sharon was concerned, she would never let him be alone in this state, and for that she would not apologize. There was also a feeling inside her that tugged at her heart, the need to have him close, to see him getting better, to be helpful and to be able to act. At least in this way, she was capable of doing something, of helping him, and the part of her that always needed to be in control of every situation was satisfied. Regardless, she could sense that he was wary of her. She knew it would not be easy, but her determination to do right by him was paramount. Andy deserved that much.

"You couldn't sleep?" he asked, his tone soft in an effort to reach out through the cloud of awkwardness.

She diverted her eyes from him and looked at the pillow, feeling oddly embarrassed, as though she'd been caught doing something incorrect. "Not really, I wanted to bring you this." Her fingers caressed the soft, purple material of the pillowcase, fisting it at the corner. Her eyes slowly moved back to him, and she eyed him over the rim of her glasses. She didn't really know what to expect.

"You didn't have to." Again he was more harsh than he'd intended to be with his answer, but he was finding it hard to keep control when the pain left him unable to move, to breath, to think straight, all of it adding more and more frustration.

"I wanted to, Andy." She was being careful with her words but she gave him a warm smile, trying to ease his temper as best she could. "I want you to be comfortable." The softness of her voice was calm and tender.

Earlier in the day, when she hadn't seen him return with the squad, when she'd heard he was hurt and no one had been telling her the truth, her mind had gone right into the trap of oppressing dread. For a few seconds she had felt anxiety building up in the pit of her stomach. It had clenched so tightly that she'd had problems thinking clearly. Her second in command had not really been reassuring with his words, but he had appealed to her logic. They'd had a job to do and the sooner they solved the case the sooner she would know the truth about everything that had happened. She had decided to trust him. Although in order to function, she had put on the brave front, a front that helped her keep her emotions in check, a front that kept her head clear, a front that she had worn time and again throughout her whole work life. It was her own armor. And yet, in this small room, inside her home, under the eyes of the man that was becoming more and more dear to her heart, that very armor started to crumble underneath the weight of her own feelings.

Silence once again surrounded them as they calculated all the actions and reactions, everything still unspoken.

"C'mere," it was Andy who broke the stillness, extending his arm toward her, offering his hand palm up, to be taken.

She didn't hesitate. With few steps she was by his side. She slowly slid her fingers over the delicate skin of his palm. His hand was reassuringly warm as they laced their fingers together. It was a tight grip. A contact, skin to skin, that granted them some stability.

The pillow had slipped out of her arms and lay at end of the bed near his feet, forgotten for the moment. She breathed with him, affected by his shallow breaths, understanding that expanding his lungs too much caused him pain. She mimicked it involuntarily, tiny intakes of air went through her nose, feeling more and more connected to him. The distance that the discomfort of the situation had created was getting smaller and smaller. She wanted to touch his face, finally being able to do so without the restraint of her office. She wanted to caress the beaten flesh with her fingertips, with her lips.

"Andy," she stared to speak, but her voice hitched and hid inside her throat. With him now so close, all her thoughts and fears overwhelmed her. Her eyes burned with the sting of the unshed tears that she desperately tried to keep from falling. She looked away from him, trying to find the strength to compose herself.

He watched her, as she bit her lip harder and tightened her grip on his hand. She was fighting the battle against overwhelming emotions. This was exactly what he had been trying to shelter her from. All he could do now was to try to put her mind at ease.

"I'm very comfortable here. Why don't you sit down with me for minute?" He tugged at her hand and she obliged. She looked frantic to him. He wanted to calm her down. They both needed a moment just to be together.

"Yes."

Sharon sat on the edge of the bed, one leg curled beneath her with her knee lightly nudging his leg. At this contact with him, her hand immediately touched his thigh, creating a deeper connection between their bodies. He smiled at her, his eyes more vivid then before. While stroking his leg, her hand met with the abandoned pillow. It had been the reason, or rather, the excuse she had used to check on him and to be by his side, even if he had been asleep. She had tossed and turned in her bed, trying to find a moment of peace, hoping sleep would claim her at some point, and yet every time she had closed her eyes she had seen and felt him crumble in her arms. The images that kept playing on a constant loop in her mind had driven her from her bed. She needed to assure herself that he was safe.

She took the pillow in her hands, and once again hid her face in it. Andy watched as she leaned over him, but stopped a mere inch from his torso. Wordlessly, she asked if she could place the pillow under his head. Understanding, he nodded and with a little effort she eased it behind him, whispering "there you go," in his ear.

The second Andy's head hit the pillow he was enveloped by her scent. The fresh fragrance of her perfume lingering on the soft purple material relaxed his senses instantly. He closed his eyes with a contented smile, letting himself be surrounded by her. Finally, he felt tranquil. Her presence was like a balm that apparently he needed to soothe his annoyance. With his heart beating at a steady pace, Andy worked up the courage to ask her the question that had been echoing in his mind since he'd opened his eyes.

"Why am I here?" His words were pronounced carefully, he didn't want to offend her hospitality or upset her, but he needed to know.

"Where else would you be?" she asked, astonished.

"I don't know, at home maybe."

"You are at home, Andy."

"Sharon." Her name slipped like a groan from his lips. She was being purposely stubborn in her responses.

"Did you honestly think I would let you be alone?" The question went unanswered, so she continued. "Andy, you know better than that. Just think about it. If it was me in your condition, would you let me be alone?"

"No, and don't even go there." Her words had visibly rattled him.

"I know," she cut him off using a softer tone, trying to regain control over this conversation before it could escalate. "I understand, trust me. But you are here, and you are staying here." She was determined to let this idea sink into his thick skull. His lack of an answer caused another silent moment between them. She could see in his expression that he was considering her words. Probably imaging what she left unsaid. His brow had drawn tight and his eyes were squinted. Sharon wasn't sure if it was the result of the images their conversation had invoked or if his body was overtaken by another wave of raw pain. However, he was holding back. There was no sound forthcoming, not a hiss or a swear and in some somber way it affected her. Her instincts told her to get up, bring him something, maybe another glass of water or a pill, to just do something. She tried to get her hand out of his, but his fingers held tight, not wanting for her to slip away. He was not ready to let her go.

She looked at him one more time and realized that he needed something else from her, something that no object or word could provide. His eyes were shut, his breathing becoming labored. He was fighting everything at once. Sharon knew how to calm him, she had learned a long time ago, that a touch and more recently, a kiss would disarm his temper in a second. She wasn't oblivious to the effect she had on him, but it was easier, for both, to leave it unspoken. Now she moved to lie on her side, stretching her legs near his, while propping her head on her bent arm and hand. She freed her hand from his grasp and snuggled her body even closer to his, but being careful not to touch his injured side.

With her fingertips she outlined his face. Her fingers tracing the hard lines of his forehead, lightly touching the beaten, reddened skin. She slowly caressed his cheekbone and the area near it, feeling the stubble that had started to form at this late hour. Her fingers slid down his nose, applying slight pressure at it bridge to ease the headache she was sure he had. She tapped ever so gently the tip of his nose and saw the beginning of a faint smile on his lips. With her thumb she traced his bottom lip and received a light kiss to it in return. She moved to his jaw, tracing the strong bone and caressing his chin, scratching the barely visible scar there. His breathing changed, and it brought some comfort to her. When her fingers grazed the shell of his ear, he moved a little, giving her more access, enjoying the attention. She leaned her head forward and placed a kiss on the corner of his eye.

"Don't hide from me," she whispered into his ear, her humid breath teasing the sensitive skin of his neck.

"I'm not," he argued, opening his eyes and shifting his head so they could look at each other while speaking and breathing the same air.

"Yes, you are. You are stubborn, you are hiding."

"I'm fine," he lied.

"You asked the squad and Provenza to cover for you." It had bothered her, the fact that they didn't trust her enough to tell her the truth about his well being.

"I know." Andy sighed, a bit resigned, his body tensing, "but at least you were able to focus and you finished the job." He would not apologize for his choice. The squad had his back, and yes, he was sure she was a little mad and maybe even hurt, but he had done it to protect her, so she could finish everything without worrying about him. He never wanted her to have to choose between him and her job.

"I don't care about the murder, or arrests, or suspects. I told you this already. You were injured, in the hospital. Provenza said it was scratches, but it's so much more than that. When you didn't come back with them today, it scared me, Andy." Her confession was honest and genuine. She was trying to make him understand what really mattered to her, and he mattered, deeply. "We are not those people anymore, the ones that lie and hide. We are better than that."

"No, we are not. You are right about that, but Sharon," his voice lowered so much that it seemed humanly impossible for her to hear his next words, "I don't want to be a bother."

"Andy," she was exasperated by him, "stop this. You are staying. I don't want to argue about this. It's decided."

"But..." he started but once again she cut him off, this time with a lingering kiss to his parted mouth. He didn't mind. This was one strong argument on her behalf.

"Tell you what, let's make a deal. If you are able to get up from this bed, without wincing, groaning and sweating, and dress yourself the same way, you are free to leave." She was challenging him, a wicked smile on her face. She even shifted her body from his to give him more room to maneuver.

Andy watched her for a moment and decided to call her bluff. He braced himself on the bed, but the second he bent at the waist his grimaced expression gave him away.

"Thought so," she said triumphantly placing a hand on his chest, easing him down on the bed again. She snuggled closer to him and slid her fingers through his hair, silently rewarding him for the effort. "Let me do this for you. For us."

He looked deeply into her eyes, searching for signs of pity or hesitation, but he found only warmth and care.

"Okay," he agreed.

They lay like that for a while longer, her fingers combing through his hair, messing with the locks. He didn't mind, not in the slightest. It gave him time to take a moment and observe her. Her makeup was gone, and the lines of tiredness were very visible on her face. He wished he could kiss all the pain away from her too.

"I like your hair this way."

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Lieutenant. I'm still mad." And that she was. They might have to address the issue once again someday, so the next time, he would think twice before hiding things like that from her.

"I know."

With some effort he moved his hand and tugged her more firmly against his body. She went willingly, resting her head on his shoulder and placing one hand over his heart. She counted his heartbeats and waited till he fell asleep. They were so new at this. They'd tried to very slowly build their relationship, allowing for the intimacy to come in a natural way. She wasn't really ready to bring it to her bedroom yet. The feeling she had for this wonderful man that lay near her were getting stronger and stronger. He managed to break the thick walls she had build around herself in order to protect herself. He was such a dear friend, that sometimes she was sure, if he went away, if he actually left her, her heart and soul would never be the same again. And before she would give him such a power over her, before she would allow him to hold her naked body, her bare unprotected heart, and own her soul, Sharon needed time, because going back to the way they were before would be absolutely impossible. And then there was Rusty, who still was very slow to adjust to the changes in his mother's life.

Now, however, Sharon would gladly have him in her own bed. Sleeping by his side for the first time was a desire she had played with in her mind for a while. The fantasy of it always left her with a warm feeling in her belly, with heat spreading through her, leaving her inflamed. It would have been so easy to locate him in her bedroom tonight, which had been her intention.

Although when she had called Rusty earlier today and told him what had happened to Andy, explaining the severity of his injuries and that she had decided that Andy would stay with them for some time, the first thing that had come out of her boy's mouth had been the offer of his room to Andy. It was a sweet gesture, which she had never expected. And yet, Rusty had surprised her. Furthermore he had spent some time asking about Andy's heath, wanting to be reassured that he would be fine. She also knew Rusty had called Provenza to gather more information about the whole accident. Even if the boy had shown some signs of mistrust towards Andy and their relationship, he wasn't made of stone. He was affected by this like everyone else and with his offer he wanted to show that he cared for Andy. She was proud of him and hadn't had it in her to say no to his offer. She had arranged for Buzz to take Andy into his room. Rusty had been waiting there already and had prepared everything. He had taken all the stuff he needed for the next day out, and they had settled Andy to rest there.

His hands were wandering on her back, and Sharon started to suspected that her presence in this bed, as calming as it was, provided too much of a distraction when they were both in need of some rest.

"I should go to bed," she said quietly, but not making any effort to get out of his very light embrace.

"You are in bed."

"I mean, to my bed."

"Well... this is your house, so that makes this your room, and that makes this your bed, too."

She hummed gently, considering his words with amusement. She moved to get up, but he wouldn't let her, again, his fingers held hers firmly.

"Five more minutes," he said sleepily, already drifting off from all the exhaustion.

She could give him that. Five more minutes, or five more hours, days, months, and at this rate she allowed herself to wish for more years with him by her side. Just there, in his arms, after a scary day like this one, she felt safe, she felt warm, she felt hope. Sharon shifted a little and got under the covers with him. His warmth brought her peace. His scent brought her serenity.

"Okay," she answered to let him know she was there, before she, too, let sleep claim her, leaving the silence to linger between them for the rest of the night.

Between every word, there was a silence. Between every kiss, there was a silence. Between every breath, there was a silence. Between every heartbeat, there was a silence. On this new path that life had thrown at them Sharon and Andy would try to navigate as best as they could, blending the silence in between.

Thank You.

I will leave this story marked as in-progress. My muse come up with the idea for the next epi as well. We will see how that will go ;)

hugs and Thank You again.