Problematic
AN: Thank you so much, DaughterOfAres , for the prompt! This takes place sometime in S1.
"Shit," he thought to himself. "Shiiit." He shoved the paper into his bookbag, grimacing at the sight of the giant 'F' as it slipped behind a binder.
He stormed angrily out of the classroom. Maybe he should be angry with himself for doing so poorly on his quiz, but he couldn't. It was Mr. Kearns' fault anyway for making the stupid quiz so hard. He grabbed the books he needed to complete his homework from his locker and then slammed it shut, ignoring the looks he got from the other kids in the hallway.
He'd never really gotten, like, perfect grades or anything. They'd always been pretty average, or at least that's what he assumed. His mother never really seemed too impressed with his work. Occasionally a picture or random test was hung on the fridge, but that was about it. But since he'd been with Sharon, he'd been getting good grades. He was sure that was because he was living in a police state with nothing better to do than study. He got A's all the time. Some B's sometimes. But his grades were good.
He knew that because whenever he got a good grade and Sharon saw it or called the school (he knew that she did that from time to time) she smiled at him and gave him the look.
Sharon Raydor had many different looks, he'd come to learn. She had her angry look, the one that made murders shake in interrogation rooms or made lawyers leave the interview room with their heads down. He'd seen that look in the beginning, when she threatened him with staying in a Juvenal detention center- he'd learned that day that he didn't want that look directed at him again.
She had her sad look. That look happened after work, sometimes during it- whenever they had really bad cases, especially ones that involved kids, she had that look. Sometimes he noticed tears in her eyes and other times he didn't. He never asked her about it; something told him that Sharon didn't want to talk about her sad looks.
She had a relaxed look too. That one he definitely didn't see until after work. He was pretty sure that look was built right into the sweater she slipped into after work following the shedding of her blazer. The look usually accompanied a glass of wine and sock-clad feet.
Then there was the look she gave him sometimes, the one he got when he did really well in school. Or when he made her breakfast or helped her do the dishes. She had the same look when she was talking to her kids on the phone. He didn't know what to call it…but it was something. It made his chest tighten a little. She didn't hug him or make a big fuss or anything like that, but the look she gave him always made him want to do better. He wanted her to see that it wasn't, like, some fluke that he'd done well.
But now, she was going to see that it probably was one. As he climbed into the patrol car that was picking him up from school, he couldn't help but wonder the look she'd give him for this. She was going to see how much he sucked. She wasn't going to be proud of a stupid 'F'. He didn't know what she was going to think. She'd probably be mad at him or she might think that he's not trying.
He watched out the window as he thought about it. He was probably right. The only thing Sharon has wanted from him was for him to try. She wanted him to try her fancy Catholic school, she wanted him to try to have more civility or whatever; she just wanted him to try.
And now she was going to see this huge 'F' and think that he wasn't trying anymore.
But he was!
And that's why he was so mad at his stupid algebra teacher! He was trying as hard as he could and he still failed. The quiz was too hard!
He pushed the car door open and stalked into the building. He headed for the Major Crimes, floor, ignoring the break-room where he'd normally grab a snack. He wasn't hungry. How could he eat when he knew that he had to pull out that freaking quiz to have Sharon sign it.
He ignored the greetings of Tao and Sykes, stormed past Julio waving at him. He went to his little cubicle and slammed his bag down. He kicked it too for good measure. He flopped down into the chair, with his head buried in his hands he didn't see Buzz enter the room.
"Rusty? Everything okay?"
Rusty looked up at him angrily. "No, everything is not okay!"
When Buzz only looked at him in confusion, Rusty sighed and grabbed his bookbag. He fished around until he found his quiz, slamming it down onto the table for Buzz to see.
"Oh…Rusty, I thought we went over this material." He said, looking at him.
"Yeah, well, apparently not enough." He said. "And I have to have Sharon sign it."
"Don't worry, Rusty she won't be mad. This happens to everyone." Buzz told him, gesturing to the quiz. "We'll just study harder next time."
"But I did study hard, Buzz! I tried!"
"I know, but-"
They were interrupted by Tao, who popped his head in, telling Buzz they needed him in the electronics room. Buzz told him he'd be back in a little bit to talk about it some more. But Rusty didn't care. They could talk about it as much as Buzz wanted but that wasn't going to change the fact that he still had to have Sharon sign it.
Sharon sighed, leaning back in her chair a little and closing her eyes. It had only been minutes since they finally solved their case. Now, the whole team had paperwork to look forward to. She hoped they could all wrap it up rather quickly; she wanted nothing more than to go home, eat dinner, and then curl up on the couch.
She'd seen Rusty storm into the murder room earlier, looking like he was ready to punch something. She wasn't sure what was wrong. He'd been fine when she dropped him off at school and in a great mood the previous night. She supposed it was another problem at school, but she hadn't gotten a phone call.
She saw Buzz follow after him and hadn't mentioned anything to her, so he must've been well enough. She figured he was fine until she finished up her work, maybe they could talk over burgers after they left.
A little while later, as she scribbled her signature across another paper, there was a knock on her door. She looked up from the paper, adjusting her glasses that had managed to slide down her nose. Rusty was standing there, bookbag in hand, looking incredibly nervous. He had a guilty look about him too.
She knew that look very well. As a mother of two full grown children, she was more than familiar with that look. She'd gotten it from Ricky when he was about eleven; he had been playing ball in the house even though she had sternly warned him against it. Big surprise he didn't listen and when she walked downstairs, she was met with a guilty boy and a shattered lamp.
She'd gotten the look from Emily too; however it was much less than she got it from Ricky. Where Ricky would give in, admit his wrongdoings, Emily stood up for herself. How she loved that about her daughter most of the time, but it had made for some rough teen years. Her mother had told Sharon that Emily was just like her. She'd argue even when she was wrong, even when she knew she was wrong. But, a couple weeks after her sixteenth birthday, things had been a little different. Emily had gotten her license on her birthday, so Sharon let her borrow her car to go to the movies with a few of her friends. A few hours later, Emily had slipped into the house with her head down, almost in tears because of a scratch that Sharon could barely see on the side of the car.
And now Rusty was at her office door with the same look over his face, looking down at his shoes to avoid looking up and making eye contact with her.
"Come in." She said, keeping her voice even.
Rusty stepped inside, still avoiding her eyes. He didn't sit, just sat his bookbag down in one of the chairs across from her desk.
"Hey, how was school?"
He looked at her, meeting her eyes for the first time before angrily digging through his bag. He pulled a paper down and slammed it onto her desk on top of her other papers. "You tell me." He said, leaning back against the wall of her office, his arms folded across his chest.
She looked down at the paper, picking up the algebra quiz when the large 'F' screamed back at her. She looked over the questions, even thinking to herself that they looked rather tough. Under each question were lines of work that he'd written; there were eraser marks and things scribbled out. The effort was there. She could see that. He'd answered each question. He'd obviously spent a decent amount of time trying to figure the answers out because of the amount of work he'd done for each.
She looked over her glasses at him and before she had a chance to speak, he began.
"Listen, Sharon, I know you're probably mad at me and you think I'm not, like, trying or something. But I am! I really tried but stupid Mr. Kearns had to make the quiz impossible!"
Sharon nodded a little, keeping her voice and face expressionless. "I see. So, it's your teacher's fault?"
"Yes! Well…it's someone's! Because I tried really hard."
"You'll have to try harder next time."
He went quiet, looking at her. She could see that he was trying to read her expression, but she offered him nothing.
"So…you're not mad at me?" His voice seemed so small all of a sudden. He was always so afraid she'd be mad at him. And he wouldn't admit it but she was sure deep down he thought she was going to ship him off to foster care for something as silly as a bad quiz.
She shook her head. "No, Rusty. This has happened to everyone."
She watched a small amount of the tension leave his body. He sunk down in one of the chairs across from her desk. "But I failed."
Sharon sighed. She picked up her pen and signed the top of Rusty's paper. She knew the drill, had gotten a few of these from Ricky and Emily. She handed it back to him and pulled her glasses off. "Failure is a very…problematic word."
When he looked at her, confused and still looking guilty, she went on.
"The world makes failure out to be something bad. And that's just not always true." She told him. "You worked hard. You studied and practiced with Buzz. I know that you tried."
Rusty nodded in agreement, listening to her.
"So, next time, you know that you just have to try harder. Failure is only bad when it stops you from trying again."
"Maybe next time Buzz and I could start going over things a few days before the quiz…instead of the day before."
Sharon smiled at him, slipping her glasses back on. "I think that would be a good idea." She signed the last of her papers and stood. She grabbed her jacket from the back of her chair.
Rusty stood too, shoving his paper into his bookbag and slinging it over his shoulder.
She grabbed her purse, pulling it over her shoulder and heading for the door with Rusty behind her. They walked through the murder room, Sharon wished everyone goodnight and they left.
They were both quiet as they walked to her car. He was still surprised by the way she had taken the news of his quiz. A little part of him thought she might be just waiting until they got home to go off on him.
When the doors were shut and Sharon had pulled the car out into traffic, she glanced at him.
"Burgers?" She asked.
He was a little surprised. She really didn't think he deserved burgers, did she?
"Or…we could go to that soup and sandwich place that you like."
"Rusty, you don't like that place." He could see a little smile on her face as she kept her eyes on the road.
"Yeah, but you do." He shrugged.
When they stopped at a red light, she looked at him. She had that look, the one that he didn't really understand but got whenever he got a good grade. Why was she looking at him like that? He didn't get an A.
She smiled and drove them past her favorite place and straight to his. They went inside and had probably the best burgers he'd had in his life. He even convinced Sharon to eat some cheese fries. They talked and he made her laugh. For some reason, he really loved it when he was able to do that.
He forgot all about the stupid quiz.
He stopped thinking that Sharon might be lying to him. Because he knew she wasn't. Not when she gave him that weird look again.
What'd you guys think?
I want to thank you all so much for the reviews on the last one! They were great!
