If Tomorrow Never Comes
by Kadi
Rated: T
Disclaimer: It's not my sandbox, and they're not my toys... I just really love playing there!
A/N: This is the sequel to Simplicity and Tomorrow. I think we're all wondering where Stroh went and what will happen if or when he returns. There was a warning in Special Master Part 2 when Burning Man stated that Stroh doesn't leave witnesses behind. This makes me believe that he will be back eventually.
Warning: There is some violence in later chapters, nothing more intense than we've seen on screen, but do be advised.
As always, special thank you to my beta deenikn8 who always goes above and beyond! Any errors remaining are all mine. Also, special thank you to my twin partner in crime kate04us who listened to this idea and helped me search google maps of Los Angeles for landmarks for more realistic & logical story flow! You rock!
Chapter 1
The heat and humidity from the shower still lingered in the air, making the bathroom warm, but not uncomfortably. The door leading into the bedroom was open, allowing cooler air in. It wafted over his skin, an enticing contrast to the flush left behind from the shower's heat. He'd heard the blow dryer stop, and a small smile curved his lips as a few moments later, he felt a hand sliding across his back. Sharon eased passed him, and the dryer was placed back on the rack beside the vanity. His eyes found her in the mirror, lingered over her form.
He had seen her in any number of outfits, suits and dresses, formal attire and the casual jeans she liked to trot out on weekends. They had been through several selections from her lingerie drawer, and there was even a powder blue nighty that was his favorite. He wondered, however briefly, if it was a sign that he was getting old or even a bit stayed in this, the back end of middle age, that the sexiest thing he'd ever seen her wear was one of his own plain, white, v-neck t-shirts. It was clinging to every curve in a way that made his heart beat a little faster. The hem barely reached her thighs, and he knew, without having to look or even guess, that there wasn't a thing on underneath it.
Their eyes met in the mirror. He watched the smile that tugged her lips upward, enjoyed the way it reached her eyes, until the green sparkled and they crinkled at the corners. Her hand dipped lower across his bare back, and her fingers brushed at the edge of the towel that was draped around his waist. They had shared the shower, and while she dried her hair, he had taken his turn in front of the vanity. Even now, he stood, still in only the towel, a can of shaving cream in one hand while he had contemplated shaving or waiting until morning.
While their gazes held, Sharon leaned into his side. The soft press of her breasts against his arm made his skin tingle. Her fingers danced across his wrist, until they wrapped around the cool aluminum of the can of shaving cream. She tugged it out of his hand, and then she pressed him backward as she turned and slid in between him and the smooth edge of the vanity. Andy's hands dropped, and settled against her waist, only to slide lower, over her hips to her thighs. He lifted, even as she leaned back, and eased her onto the cool, marble surface.
His hands slid along her thighs as he moved between them, fingers gentle against the smooth, bare skin. Her intake of breath as his head bent, to let his lips brush the familiar curve of her cheek, had warmth settling inside his chest. Between them, and only slightly muffled by the close proximity of their bodies, he heard the sound of the cream being squeezed into her hand. Andy straightened, and leaned back just a bit. Her eyes were on his again, and glittering with emotion as, in silence, she coated the fingers of one hand in the thick, white substance.
She smoothed it over his cheeks and neck, a quiet hum filling the otherwise silent room as she went about her task. It was simple, familiar, this intimacy. His hands continued to caress the outsides of her thighs, even when she lifted his razor and leaned toward him. The scent of her shampoo mingled with the moisturizer that he knew she applied to her skin every night and every morning, as though she didn't know just how beautiful she was, even without her little rituals.
Andy smiled as his eyes moved over her. He watched the play of the light in her hair, and the way it caught the colors. It shimmered in hues of brown and gold, red in some lights. He knew that she saw her hair dresser, every five weeks and without fail, and he had come to mark the signs of when she would be seeing him again. It had only been a couple of weeks since the last visit. Andy looked forward to those few days leading up to an appointment. She didn't believe him when he told her that he thought the tiny bit of gray that showed at her temples during those few days was sexy as hell. She would laugh, push him away from her. Still, her cheeks would color with delight, and her eyes would light with joy.
By now there was not a part of her body that he did not know. He knew that as his hands moved toward her knees, and his fingers slid behind them, that her breath would catch again. He watched her draw her bottom lip between her teeth, and knew that it was as much in reaction to him as it was in concentration, even as the razor touched his skin. He held still for her, only his eyes and his hands moving. His gaze caressed her face, from the lines at the corners of her eyes, to those around her mouth. Beneath the lights overhead, their was a glow to her skin. Her make up was a memory now, after the shower, and the lines were far more prominent. So too were the freckles that dotted her nose.
She was a woman of fifty-six, but even without the cosmetics that usually painted her face, he thought she could pass for younger. Here, in these walls, in these rooms, there was no concealer, no artificial color, or age defying cream. She was still the loveliest creature he had ever seen. His eyes tracked lower, while the razor moved across his skin. He grinned a bit, when she reached to the side to flick it beneath the faucet. The t-shirt stretched, and gave him an enticing view. When she straightened again, he watched the v-neck dip, and offer him a glimpse at her cleavage. Unbound and unrestrained, and after two children, he knew that she wasn't a super model, but thoughts of what he would like to be doing to her had heat coursing through his body.
Repetitive movements, the feel of the cool metal of the razor against his skin, the sound it made as it moved against him, it was all background noise. He was filled with her, the sight, scents, the sounds of her soft sighs and low hums. There was nothing but her for him. She was always with him. There in the back of his mind, when he drove to work, when he was sitting at his desk, when he looked for sense in the horror of their crime scenes. He learned, well before their relationship made the turn from platonic to something far more personal and romantic how to separate thoughts of Sharon from the thoughts he should be entertaining throughout the course of his day. There were times when he allowed them to warm him through, to provide light in the dark, to give calm to the fury. Then there were the moments when they were alone, when he could let her fill him completely, until the heat seared and the emotion made his heart swell near to bursting.
She was seated on the vanity in front of him, wearing a plain cotton t-shirt, not a scrap of makeup covering her face, while she quietly shaved him. His hands had not strayed beyond gently caressing her thighs. There was not a part of her body he'd not had his hands or mouth on over the course of the last several months, and yet there was nothing more intimate, more enticing to him, than the quiet moments like these, when he wanted her simply because she was there, and simply because she was Sharon, and especially because he loved her.
He had seen her wear any number of masks over the years, and specifically over the last several months. He had come to know them well, and thought that, by now, he could recognize each one. It was always her eyes that gave her away, though. It didn't matter which face he was looking into, or where they were, she couldn't hide completely, not from him. He had been witness to the Captain and the officer. Those were masks that he knew well. She wore them like a shield, a blanket to protect the woman beneath. He had seen the friend, and the lover, but it was the woman beneath all of them that he knew best. Andy felt her grow still in front of him a second before he recognized the sound of the front door opening and closing. Her hand was poised beside his face, and beneath his hands, settled as they were now against her hips, he felt the stirrings of a faint tremor. The shift in the colors of her eyes, from pale jade to deep moss, and the slight parting of her lips as she drew a breath and held it. This was the mother. She was fierce, and she was protective, and she was worried. She was always underneath the surface of every moment, always waiting.
There was a dark cloud hanging over their heads. They could try to approach life as though each day was normal and new. They could live and they could love; they could go to work while Rusty went to school, but it was always there, the darkness. It lurked in the shadows, always a breath away, teasing them, laughing at their pitiful attempts at a life that was, for the moment, a little less pleasant than they would like to believe.
He held her gaze. His hands slid up to her waist in a simple caress. It was not until a familiar voice rang through the apartment that he felt her relax again. The simple, "I'm home." Was enough to have her breathing again. Andy watched the worry recede, although it would not fade. It would only be hidden away, but it was never gone, and it was never forgotten. He watched the colors in her eyes shift again, lighter, happier. Her leg lifted, curled around his hips and drew him closer. Her gaze shifted, back to her task, and he felt the cool metal of the blade settle against his skin again.
The exchange had taken only a moment, the space of a single breath, but it was enough to remind them that try as they did, their lives were not exactly normal these days.
That dark cloud had come in the form of a madman. They all lived now with a sense of fear. Phillip Stroh was walking free, somewhere in this world, and they were left to wonder if or when they would ever face him again. Sharon spent her days worried about her son. She fretted over his safety every moment that he was not in her presence. But it was not only his safety that she prayed for at night. It was his forgiveness.
Rusty had not wanted a security detail. He did not want to live in a prison. He wanted the freedom to live his life. They were giving him that, in so much as they could. What Rusty didn't know was that the matter was not entirely in Sharon's hands, and even if it had been, Andy could not imagine that she would have laid down and rolled over on those demands. She would have arranged security for him anyway, whether he liked it or not. In the end, Sharon wasn't given a choice. It came from over her head, and she embraced it, gladly, even as it impeded on the privacy of her own life.
It was the County that had lost Stroh, but all agreed that it didn't exactly look great for the LAPD either. Chief Taylor was aware that it didn't exactly reflect well on him, and especially with the lives of his officers threatened. Then there was Deputy Chief Howard, who they all could agree had a bit of a personal stake in capturing Stroh. After all, the man had threatened his wife. He had come into their home and tried to kill her. So when Howard requested the breathing room in the budget to provide security for Rusty, Taylor caved. After all, he wasn't a complete fool, and they knew, all of them knew, Sharon would put herself between Rusty and Stroh at any cost, and ultimately it was two lives in danger. That was Andy's own personal fear. It was his own personal hell. While everyone was most worried for Rusty, and with good reason, he knew that Stroh was smart. He might be a psychopath, but he was an intelligent one. He would come for Sharon first. He would remove her, and his path to Rusty would be much simpler.
It was why he hadn't blinked, and he hadn't complained, when Sharon told him what they had planned for Rusty's security. SOB was taking over, and with Rusty's security, they were also taking over the hunt for Stroh. The security in her building had been upgraded. The building owners hadn't blinked, not when the City offered to pay for half of it. There were better cameras now in the parking garage and lobby. Surveillance had been added to the elevators and stair wells, and on the eleventh floor, there was a camera that watched the hall. It caught all the comings and goings from Sharon's Condo. Even with the added budget, they didn't have the man hours or the money to pay someone to sit and watch every minute of camera footage. So it was all fed through a database, scanned with facial recognition software. If Stroh entered the building, an alert would go up.
In the meantime, there were officers on Rusty. He just didn't know it. All agreed that it was better for him this way. They didn't have to worry that he would give them the slip, and his movements would be more normal, more casual, if he wasn't aware of the presence of his SIS tail. He was never without someone watching him, and the rotation was constant. McGinnis had chosen the best that she could spare. Even Lieutenant Cooper had worked his way into the rotation. He watched Rusty a couple of days a week, and it didn't take a genius to know he was doing that as a favor for Sykes, as much as he was doing it for Sharon. He still felt a little guilty about missing Weller the previous year.
It helped. All of the surveillance and the security rotation. It made life a little more manageable. Sharon could sleep, just not well. She could breathe, but Andy knew that she never fully relaxed, not until she laid eyes on him again. Those moments only came when Rusty stopped by the Murder Room, or when he was home for the evening. She would never fully rest easy, not until Stroh was behind bars again, but this gave them room to breathe. It gave them room to live.
Life did go on. Rusty was right about that much. They still had cases to work. He had classes to study for. He was finished with his first semester of college now. He had gone back to work, not at Badge of Justice, but a friend he'd met while working on that show was working on a movie. He got Rusty hired for the summer. The movie was scheduled to wrap a week after fall classes began. Rusty was planning to shuffle the two. He could do it for a few days, he said. He was happy, and he was excited. For once Sharon didn't argue that school was more important. He was living. That was something that she was holding onto with both hands.
Rusty's was not the only life that kept moving. Even the dark pall of Stroh could not completely spoil the depth of his feelings for her. January was hard for them. Sharon was preoccupied, and rightly so. He held on. Andy continued to be there for her. He continued to hold her, and when she tried to retreat into herself, he held her even tighter. February was kinder. By then the security and the upgrades to the cameras in Sharon's building were in place. She could sleep again, and she began to look a little less drawn. She began to allow herself to venture back into her own life, no longer as frightened that by taking her eyes off Rusty, she was letting him go. She let herself feel again. Sleeping with Andy had become second nature. He spent more nights with her than he did alone. But sleep was all that they had done. In the dark, when she couldn't hide from her fears anymore, when the tears could no longer be ignored, she had pulled his arms around her and settled in his embrace. She wore him like a blanket, like a shield, and let him chase away the cold.
The ebb and flow of their relationship could not be planned. It could not be harnessed nor could it be explained. They were not prone to grand gestures or moments of fancy. The first time that they made love was in the early morning hours of a normal, ordinary Tuesday. The need had been there. So had the want. But there had been other things on their minds. They'd had other concerns and worries. All he had wanted was for her to be safe.
They weren't kids anymore. They realized that they had more life behind them than in front of them. It was why they were no longer trying to deny the inevitable. Chances like this did not come around often in a single lifetime, and certainly not at this stage in their lives. There were those that might argue that they were too old to begin anew, to start a new relationship, to begin sharing what remained of their lives with another. Those were thoughts they had both had, it was a discussion they had engaged in some months ago. What they learned, what they knew, was that some forces were beyond their control. Whether they were together or apart, they would love anyway. It was an emotion that was beyond their control. They had, through the long months of their friendship, touched one another's hearts. They were drawn together beyond all sense and thought, and there was a deeper need that could not be denied. They were happier together. They were stronger together.
In March she told him that she loved him. She gave voice to words, to thoughts that were already well known. They were on a date that night, and it was a mild, comfortably temperate evening. They had gone to a movie, and then rather than driving home, because they both knew that Rusty was well watched and secure, they had driven out to the Santa Monica boardwalk. He held her, danced with her beneath the moonlight, with the sound of the waves and some distant song playing in the background. The words were spoken quietly, whispered against his ear as they swayed together. It was an acknowledgement that they were moving in the same direction.
They were, neither of them, overly demonstrative people. There were few people, outside of their families, who knew that they were together. It wasn't shame, and it wasn't a secret. It was simply a matter of privacy. Much of Sharon's life was now on display, with the added security that now surrounded her due to Stroh's escape. She reported the nature of their relationship to Taylor and Human Resources, as was required of them, and Andy had sat in front of an HR rep and answered questions that he was neither coerced nor did he feel in anyway harassed by his relationship with his superior.
It hadn't gone any farther than that. Andy no longer spoke to Provenza about his relationship with Sharon. He didn't want to hear the other man's complaints or opinions on it. They had been partners for a long time, and if that was going to continue, Andy recognized that there were some things they simply should not discuss. Sharon was at the top of that list. So Andy did not tell him that they were together. He did not tell him that he was spending more nights with Sharon than he was at home. When Sharon gave him a key in April, he didn't mention that either. If Provenza or any of the others knew about them, they never said. They kept their relationship out of the workplace.
It surprised him that it hadn't come up. Andy found it amusing that all the time they spent, the two of them, worrying how their relationship would be viewed by those around them had amounted to nothing. If their colleagues knew about them, they simply didn't care. Neither did HR, and Taylor found it more comical than worrisome.
"Finally, someone who can keep him in line."
Andy could admit that he didn't exactly like the man, but he had a point. Not because Sharon was doing anything overt about his behavior, either on or off the job, but there was something about her that made those who worked for her want to be better. She made him want to be better. Hell, even Provenza was on his best behavior most days, and Julio, recently back from suspension, was walking a fine line.
Of course, Provenza had reasons of his own to be on his best behavior. He was spending more and more time with Patrice outside of the office. Andy had a feeling that could be why he hadn't, yet, clued in to what was going on with Sharon… or if anything, why he hadn't commented on it. When they did spend time together, he and his partner, they either left from the office, or they met up wherever they were going. In hindsight, it was damned funny, the way things worked out. In May, when he moved in with Sharon, no one had seemed to notice.
They blended their homes as easily as they blended their lives. It was simple, and it was seamless. Andy didn't need much beyond his clothes, a couple of bookshelves, a dresser, and his recliner. They went through both residences. They decided what they were keeping, and the rest was donated, sold, or thrown away. Much of his furniture was in storage. He sold the bungalow, and it had gone faster than he imagined it would. Now, Sharon's condo was on the market, and they were looking for a place that would be theirs. Something with enough room for the kids and the grandkids, but not so large that it would feel empty after Rusty moved away. It wasn't a thought she liked to entertain often, but someday, preferably after Stroh was behind bars again, or dead, Rusty would leave the nest that she created for him. He would find his place in the world, just as her other children had done. This time, however, she wouldn't be left alone. They would need room for Rusty to visit. For Ricky, and Emily, and any of the grandchildren that might someday enter this world. They needed room for Nicole and Dean, and their children, for his son Daniel, and whomever he may bring into their lives.
Andy's thoughts were brought back to the present when Sharon lifted a towel and wiped away the remaining traces of shaving cream from his face. He lifted her, and allowed his mouth to settle over hers as they turned to enter the bedroom. Her arms wound around his neck, and her legs around his waist, as they moved toward the bed. His towel was dropped, forgotten, as they settled on the bed. It was neither his, nor hers, but theirs.
There was a dark cloud hanging over their heads, but they had learned to find the light. They were living in it. They were loving in it.
MCMCMCMCMCMC
Lazy and casual Saturdays were few and far between. They didn't come around very often, and when they did, they were to be indulged in. More often then they would like to admit, their weekends were spent working. Other times, it was spent with the family. As spring settled upon them, the weekend was spent with Nicole, Dean and the boys. There had been a couple of Saturdays spent at baseball games, one that he had gone to with Daniel, and others that involved larger groups. The whole family had gone to see the Giants and the Dodgers face off. Sharon and Dean were both Giants fans, and by extension, so were their children. Andy was trying very hard to not hold that against either of them. It made for an interesting afternoon. Ricky had been in town for that game, and although Rusty knew very little about baseball, he had tagged along. He had fun just watching the antics. Sharon and Andy had argued all the way to the game, throughout most of the game, and all the way home. Not really arguing, but in that way that was all fun and games, especially with their kids egging them on, in that way that Nicole and Ricky liked to do.
For Mother's Day, Ricky and Emily had both flown in for the weekend so that they, along with Rusty, could to take their mother to dinner and a show. Sharon had even received a card from Nicole, exclaiming Best Step Mom ever! Hint-hint dad! It kept finding its way to being displayed with a magnet on the front of the refrigerator. Andy knew that it was Rusty who kept digging it out, and after the first few times that he or Sharon took it down, they just left it up. It wasn't that they didn't want to marry, but they weren't going to be rushed into anything, and certainly not by their children. They were living together, and they were looking for a home together. Whatever was left of the rest of their lives, they had every intention of spending it together. It was enough for them.
For a rainy Saturday in early June, paying bills seemed an appropriate use of time. The morning had been spent on errands, picking up the dry cleaning and making a quick trip to the grocery store. While Sharon put away the groceries, Andy sat down with his computer. His feet were propped up on the coffee table as he flipped through a stack of household bills, made the payments online, and updated their joint, household account. It was a chore they usually shared, completed by whoever got to it first. Since Sharon was in a mood to putter around in the kitchen, and Andy could pay bills while listening to the game on TV, he decided to get it out of the way.
A deposit into the account drew his immediate attention, however. He studied it for a moment, and then he craned his head around to look into the kitchen. "Sharon."
There was something in his tone. Questioning, but slightly cautious too. He was trying to approach something very carefully, but there was an edge, something in it that made her brows lift as she turned away from contemplating whether or not she felt like spending the afternoon cooking. Her lips pursed, they'd done a lot of ordering out lately, and what was the point of doing the week's grocery shopping if they were just going to have takeout again. Besides, it was raining, and she didn't feel particularly like going out again. Also, Rusty was working today. He would be on set until later in the evening. It was just the two of them. It was a rare opportunity to spend the day curled up together on the sofa. Provided that neither of their phones rang. When she considered the overtime that she had submitted recently, she had a feeling they wouldn't. Taylor had Robbery Homicide covering the weekend. Sharon was going to take advantage of it.
She pulled a cookbook from the corner she kept them in and carried it to the bar. She leaned against it and glanced into the living room. She met his gaze, and realized that his was being kept carefully curious. Her head tilted in askance. Andy could be such a moody creature. She loved that about him. That with his passionate nature, she never had to question what he was feeling. It was there for her, she only had to reach out and engage it. She did so now, but with caution, until she knew what had him riled. "Yes?"
His dark eyes were focused entirely upon her. He watched her gaze lower as she flipped through a cookbook. She was listening to him and contemplating cooking too. That could bode well. It depended entirely on how she answered his next question. "Want to tell me how seventy-five thousand ended up floating around in the household account?"
"Hm." She hummed as she leaned forward on the bar, settled her chin in her hand. "I moved some things around. Since we decided to keep looking at properties and not wait until we sell the condo, I moved some money out of savings and into the escrow account. While I was at it, I dropped some money into the joint account."
They all had access to that account. It was used for bill paying, groceries, and the like. Rusty didn't like using it, but after living with Sharon for a few years, he'd gotten over complaining about it. They each had their personal accounts, checking and savings, but the joint account was for the family. It was a habit of Sharon's going back to when her older children had been younger and still living at home. It was responsible, and it made sense. Andy understood it, it made combining their lives, and their homes, a lot simpler. As Sharon spoke, he took a look at the escrow account. They'd set it up with the sale of his bungalow, it was for the purchase of their new place. Andy stared at the dollar amount, and checked the deposit she had made.
"Sharon."
There was a definite warning in his tone. She sighed. This time she straightened and looked at him. "Yes?"
"How the hell did you just manage to have two hundred thousand just laying around in savings?" They hadn't really discussed finances before, except in the most responsible sense of how they would combine them now that they were living together. They didn't talk about personal savings, or how much they got paid, and he supposed that he had taken it for granted that she was living on a Captain's salary. Now, as he stared at her, some things were beginning to click into place. Her shopping habits, and the way that she owned the condo outright, rather than leasing it.
"It's gratifying to know that you're not with me because of my money," she drawled. There was a smile playing at her lips. Sharon turned her attention back to the cookbook in front of her. His frustrated growl made her want to giggle. She wisely swallowed it. He could be such a chauvinist. The saying you can't teach an old dog new tricks came to mind, and she hummed rather than laughing. Sharon shook her head, tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Well, since you're asking," She said, stating it in a way that made it clear she was being patient with him, and he should really tread carefully. His grunt made her bottom lip tremble with amusement. "My parents started trust funds for each of us when we were born. When I married Jack, and refused to make him sign a prenup, they froze mine. They wanted to make sure that it was me that he wanted. We married young, and when I realized just how hard marriage could be, I understood their reasoning. After we were legally separated, they released it again. It wasn't much," she waved a hand through the air. "They expected each of us to go to good colleges, and the trust funds were to help us get established afterward. My sister, Victoria, used hers to pay for medical school. Michael," she said of her brother, "opened his law firm. I paid off all of the debts that Jack created with his gambling, paid off the house, sent the kids to private school, and invested the rest."
As she spoke, she continued to flip through the cookbook, occasionally wrinkling her nose, or marking a page if she thought she might come back to it. "When the kids left for college, I was able to pay for their tuition with my returns and a couple of liquidations, but the house was just too big for one person alone. Even with them coming home on holidays it felt too big, and it didn't help that Jack's name was still on the title, so I sold it. He got his part, for signing off on the sale, and what I didn't use for the purchase of the condo, I invested. When Rusty and I were talking about colleges, I liquidated a couple of them for tuition. The money has been sitting in savings." She looked up, and rolled her eyes. "Since he insists on using financial aid and going to Community College, the money was just sitting there. I was going put it back, but then you and I started talking about buying a place together, and…" She shrugged, waved her hand again. "There you have it."
He made a face at her. How she could be so casual and just a little bit airy about something like that, he didn't know. It was just so Sharon, though, that Andy rolled his eyes at her. He fought the urge to grin. "You couldn't mention it before?"
She laughed at his grumbling this time. Sharon tossed her hair back and looked at him, eyes sparkling. "Honestly, I never think about it, Andy. I'm not loaded, I'm smart. I had to be, with Jack around. I never knew when he was going to throw us into debt again. I had to make sure that my kids were taken care of. Honestly, seventy-five thousand is a bit much for the household account, but Rusty's car is about to die, and since he needs a way to get back and forth to work, and school when his classes start again in the fall, he's actually going to allow me to replace it." Technically, the car was hers, but they all thought of it as Rusty's now, since he was the one who drove it. Sharon hadn't lied to Rios the previous year. Historically, she did keep a second car for when her kids visited, but as they got older, their visits became less frequent, and now that there were three of them, renting a car was more convenient than sharing the one. Sharon shrugged at him. "I made the funds available so that he can pick something out, and whichever one of us happens to be with him at the time, can make the purchase."
He sniffed at her. Because he could, and because she was laughing at him. He scowled at her again when she told him what the money was for. "You're giving a nineteen year old seventy-five thousand to buy a car?" Now he wasn't really sure that she was making a lot of sense. Not anymore. "Sharon, really?" Just when she had him convinced that she was just financially responsible, he changed his mind again. He was beginning to think that she was insane.
Her eyes narrowed. Sharon picked up a dishtowel and threw it at his head. "You're a stubborn ass, you know that?" She made a face at him. "Originally, I was going to give him the downpayment. Now is the time for him to establish credit and whatever, but with everything else…" She trailed off, not wanting to bring Stroh into their conversation, but he was, as always, hanging over their heads. "I need him driving something reliable, and I don't want him worried about working while he should be studying. So yes, Andrew, I am giving the nineteen year old seventy-five thousand to buy a car, not that I expect he will use all of it. Whatever is leftover can be moved into the escrow account."
He closed the laptop and placed it aside. Andy stood up and retrieved the dishtowel from where it landed, on the sofa beside him. He walked into the kitchen and stood over her, a brow lifted. He dropped the towel onto the bar in front of her. He braced his hand against the bar and leaned against it. "So, maybe, I don't know… you couldn't just say, Hey Andy, don't flip out, I'm liquidating some investments and putting money in the joint accounts for Rusty's new car and the move?"
She turned to face him. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned her hip against the bar, much as he was doing. Sharon arched a brow at him. Her eyes sparkled, while her lips pressed together as she considered his statement. "Okay," she said at length. "Andy, don't flip out I'm liquidating—" She trailed off with a squeak when he lifted her.
Andy sat her on the bar and moved to stand between her legs. "We should really work on your communication skills," he said.
"Hm." She hummed thoughtfully. Her hands settled against his shoulders. "Says the brooding, moody man who almost started a fight with his chauvinism."
He pouted at her. "I am not moody."
This time, she did giggle. It didn't go unnoticed by Sharon that he didn't deny his brooding or his occasional bouts of chauvinistic behavior. "Of course not, honey." She shook with silent laughter as her arms moved around his neck. She leaned in to kiss the pout away. "So are we done, or do you actually want to fight. I can give it some volume," she teased.
His fingers danced along her sides until she squirmed. "I'm thinking about it. We can actually go for the fight, and then there's the making up, but I doubt you'll feel like cooking after… or we can skip the fight, makeup anyway, and maybe you'll feel like cooking, or…" He moved his hands into her hair and dropped a kiss to her laughing mouth. The sound of it, the truly, carefree lilt of Sharon's laughter, it was rarer these days than before Stroh's escape. It was something to be enjoyed, just a little bit more. They did argue, occasionally, as much as any couple did and about the usual things. Wet towels on the floor beside the hamper, whose turn it was to pick up the dry cleaning, and whether or not his television was going in the bedroom or into storage. They were still learning how to live together, it had only been a few weeks since he moved in. He decided to mark this one in the learning column and give them both a pass.
He kissed her again before moving away from her. Sharon hummed as she slid down off the counter. She turned and let her attention move back to the cookbook. His arms moved around her from behind, she settled against him with a smile. Her hand lay over his where it rested against her middle. She flipped a page in the book with the other. It was still new, this life of theirs, but it was comfortable, and she was happy in it. She chuckled quietly as she thought about the card that was posted to the front of the refrigerator. "According to the kids, you should be thinking less about what I'm spending money on, and more about what you're supposed to be buying."
Andy groaned. He turned his face into her neck. "Damned kids and their damned diamonds," he grumbled, but he was smiling against her neck, and he felt her shake with quiet laughter. Nicole had started it. She had gotten Ricky involved. Now every time she called, Emily asked if there was anything that she needed to know. Daniel had decided to completely forego being subtle. He just called her Mom. Andy decided Rusty was his favorite. He was the only one not involved, at least not openly. The way the teenager saw it, they would do it or they wouldn't, and he didn't really care one way or the other. As long as everyone was happy and he didn't have to see anything, he was good with it. Yep, Andy thought, definitely his favorite. Maybe seventy-five thousand wasn't so much for a car after all.
Not that they hadn't thought about it. Or talked about it. He wanted her. For the rest of his life, he wanted Sharon in his arms and by his side, but she hadn't even been divorced for a year, and it didn't matter how long she was separated before that. Divorce was a big step, especially for her. He understood that, and he respected it. Hell, he had been divorced for twenty years, and was only now thinking about getting married again for the first time since the papers were signed. It was a big decision. Andy didn't need a piece of paper with their names on it to know that he loved her, or that she felt the same way.
It was one of those advantages that came with age, he thought. Just like they hadn't needed sex at the beginning to know how they felt about each other, they didn't need marriage now to know how they wanted the rest of their lives to play out. Although, at the same time, neither of them was foolish. They were aging, and they didn't exactly have desk jobs. Their work could be dangerous, and there were things that they could do, legally, to give the other advantages in a situation where one of them was hurt… or worse… but they also both had families that were independent of each other. Their children might like each other, and may like them, but they were still getting to know one another too, and in the event of an emergency or tragedy, they couldn't know how any one of them might respond. Just as Sharon had wanted to give Rusty the stability of a family, they both knew that at some point, legally, they would want to bind their lives together.
For now, it had given way to a family joke. A first, among what they hoped would be many as they pulled all the parts of their lives together.
His lips moved against her ear. His nose nuzzled her hair. "What were you thinking of making?"
She hummed again. Her head tilted, giving him access. When his hand slipped beneath her t-shirt to splay against her stomach, she drew a breath and gave it a pat. "I'm not sure. The vegetarian thing is a challenge," she drawled, "but I'll keep you anyway."
He snorted quietly at her teasing. "Good to know." He kissed the side of her head as he pulled away. They had all day to play. He would shelve his current thoughts for what he'd like to do to her until later. Andy moved to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. "Make what you want. If there's meat, I can work around it."
"I know." He never complained, but she always tried to take his preferences into consideration. They managed quite well, she thought. "The thing is, we like a lot of the same things, and I'm not entirely sure what I'm in the mood for yet."
He watched her lips curve into a saucy smile, while her eyes sparkled. Andy smirked at her. "I thought I was the moody one?" He walked back over and leaned against her back. His hands settled against the counter, on either side of her. Then he reached for the book and flipped a couple of pages. A loud clap of thunder that seemed directly over head made them both jump a bit. The lights in the apartment flickered. Andy arched a brow. "Sandwiches could be good."
"You could be on to something." Sharon closed the cookbook and slid it aside. Thunder rumbled over head again. "I'll get some candles out, just in case. You should probably finish what you were doing." She turned in his arms, leaned up to kiss him before sliding around him. She stopped, half way across the kitchen and turned back. "Andy, if the electricity goes out…"
If he got the opportunity to shoot the bastard, Andy thought, he would put a bullet right between Stroh's eyes. They couldn't even enjoy the simplicity of a rare, summer storm. She was busy worrying about what would happen if the cameras throughout the building and parking garage went down. If Stroh would use this as his moment. If he was even still in town. It wasn't likely, but they weren't risking it. "He's fine." Andy walked over to gather up his computer and the bills. "Cooper is on today. Rusty is covered. It'll take more than a storm, Sharon."
She nodded quietly and turned again. She believed him, she truly did. At the back of her mind, she knew that he was correct, but still she worried. She was his mother, it was her place to worry for Rusty. Sharon drew a breath as she pulled open a drawer and took candles from it. Still, it made her stomach twist into knots to think that all of the extra precautions they had taken could all be for nothing, simply because nature was unpredictable. She exhaled quietly and set the candles out on the bar and the table.
"I have an idea," she decided, and tried to push her worry aside. Sharon lit the candles, then she walked around the condo and began dimming the lights, until the only illumination that remained was from the storm gray skies beyond the balcony door and the flickering candle light
"I like how your mind works." Andy turned off the game. Instead, he turned on the stereo. He kept the volume low, so that soft strains of classic rock filled the rooms. He snaked out an arm when she joined him, tugged her against him and stretched out on the sofa with her in his arms.
They settled so that they could watch lightening flicker across the sky. It was a lazy and casual Saturday. He held her while the storm raged overhead. While his hands and lips soothed the raging storm inside, they talked about the property listings they'd looked at recently, and the things that they had liked or disliked about them. They talked about cars for Rusty, and what he should or should not be driving. They touched and they laughed. They made love, and they dozed, and when the lights did go out, she snuggled closer to him, and decided to think of only him, and the rare silence of a lazy, rainy day.
