THE SOCK CONSPIRACY
Sharon stood in front of her dresser drawer, digging through the piles of tights, nylons, and workout socks looking for something. "Andy have you seen any of my socks in the laundry?"
Andy walked back towards the bedroom, "Yeah, I washed them with mine the other day. Why?" He let out a little chuckle when he took in the disheveled sight before him.
"What's so funny?" She quickly threw back at him, her frustration growing.
Andy quickly schooled his expression and bit his tongue to keep a comment from spilling out of his lips. Since moving in together, he was finding that her morning routine wasn't as smooth and calm as he expected.
"I can't find any of my socks," she said throwing pairs onto the floor.
Before he could stop himself he responded, "Well, it seems like there's a lot of socks on the floor—"
Sharon turned and gave him an icy glare, "You know very well what I mean. There's not a single pair of matching trouser socks in this drawer. In fact there are only 3 single socks - none of which match. How is that even possible?!"
Andy moved over to the dresser and opened his sock drawer, "Well, uh, maybe they got put in my drawer by accident. You know how clingy static electricity can be," he gave a chuckle but noticed that she was clearly unamused, so he returned to assisting in the search.
With nearly all of her socks on the floor, Sharon walked out of the bedroom and shouted down the hall, "Rusty! I need you to check your sock drawer!"
Rusty, opened his bedroom door still a little out of it, "My what, for what?" He asked groggily.
"Your - sock - drawer. I need you to see if any of my socks got misplaced with your things," she shot a look over her shoulder to Andy who both knew did all the laundry last weekend.
"Uh okay. But how will I like know that they're your socks?" Rusty asked still confused and wondering if he was dreaming this conversation.
"Because they are smaller than mens' socks, Rusty," her words dripping with sarcasm.
Andy stepped out of the bedroom, "I didn't see any in my drawer. Are you sure that they made it into the wash?"
"Of course they made it into the wash. Where else would I have put them? I took them off my feet and put them into the hamper. You took said hamper and did the laundry on Saturday — so did they just jump out and escape between the bedroom and the laundry room?" Her voice was filled with annoyance. Despite knowing that she was overreacting to this entire sock situation she couldn't help herself. Since the moment she woke up she seemed to be gearing up for an argument, she just thought she might make it through the day before that happen — not 35 minutes.
"Well, uh, no, but, uh—" Andy stammered.
Rusty interrupted, "No small chick socks in my drawer. Sorry Sharon." With that the boy closed his door and intended to go back to sleep.
"Ughhh" Sharon let out a guttural groan.
"Why don't you just wear a different pair of shoes today? You know ones that don't need socks?" Andy asked still intent on trying to help his girlfriend out, and missing all the signs that he wasn't going to appease her today unless he resolved the sock issue immediately.
"I don't want to wear a different pair of shoes today, Andy. If I did don't you think I would have done that already?! I have court today and my feet always get cold sitting there for hours, so I like wearing socks. But since apparently there's a sock thief living in our house I guess I will have to go without." She moved passed him towards the closet to grab a pair of heels. "You know I find it very interesting that both you and Rusty have drawers FULL of socks, and yet I have none. And who did the laundry. I'm beginning to think there is some kind of sock conspiracy going on. Is there some reason why you don't want me to have any work socks Andy?" She asked inquisitively as she stepped out of the closet, leaning on the door jam as she slipped her heels on.
Again, Andy had trouble stopping himself before opening his mouth, "Well, I certainly do like it when you wear those kitten heels of yours—" He gave a sexy smile.
"Uh huh, and is that why you didn't wash any of my socks? So you could see me in my heels?" She crossed her arms and stood in front of him challenging him to respond.
"Well uh no, of course not Sharon, don't be silly—"
"So now you think I'm being silly?" She let out a huff and walked out of the bedroom heading towards the kitchen. She hoped that a cup of coffee might help her out of this combative mood she found herself in.
Andy waited a minute before following her to the kitchen. He knelt on the floor and picked up the discarded socks and placed them back in her drawer, and turned the closet light off. Grabbing his coat off the back of the chair he brought it into the living room and set it down next to his things.
"Sharon, sweetheart, I don't think you're being silly. I'm sorry we can't find your socks. I promise to look for them tonight and make sure you're fully stocked for tomorrow," he placed his hand on the small of her back hoping the action wouldn't garner further annoyance.
Sharon hummed in response, not yet trusting herself to respond. She took another sip of coffee before turning to face him.
"How about this, I can swing by the store on my way in and pick you up some socks and bring them to the courthouse. That way your feet don't turn into popsicles." He gave her a Flynn grin.
Suddenly feeling badly for her behavior she shook her head, "No, you don't need to go through all that trouble. I'll be fine."
"You won't be fine. It's really no trouble Sharon. We don't have a case, so I have a few extra minutes this morning—" Before he could finish his thought his cellphone rang. They both sighed knowing that it was likely work.
"What?" Flynn shouted into the phone. He listened for a minute, "Ok, I'll be there in 20. I'm leaving the house now." He paused, "No, she's got court today." He hung up the phone, "That was Provenza we caught a case."
"Figured. Why don't you get going I'll be fine in a few minutes once I've had some coffee and something to eat." She gave him a pat on the arm and moved back to the pantry to find some breakfast.
"I made you a yogurt parfait this morning, it's in the fridge. And I can still go get you those socks if you want?" He asked throwing his coat on and grabbing his gun and badge.
Sharon moved to the fridge and smiled when she saw the thoughtful and healthy breakfast he left for her. It was one of the many sweet things she found that he did for her once he moved in. "No, Andy. Honestly. I can make it one day." She took the yogurt out of the fridge and set it on the counter before walking him out, "Besides it just means that you'll have to find a way to warm them up later." She said with a wicked smile.
Andy let out a groan, "Woman you're going to be the death of me."
"Only if I go with you," she gave him a kiss, "Be safe. See you soon." Be safe had become one of their many code phrases for "I love you" at work.
Andy kissed her back, "You too."
Five minutes later as Andy backed out of the parking garage his cell phone dinged.
Sorry for being a grouch this morning. Thanks for yogurt.
He smiled and typed a quick reply, You're welcome. And as long as you're my grouch we're all good.
As Sharon washed her dishes and placed them in the dishwasher a devious idea of revenge popped into her head. Initially she shook her head, realizing it was a little mean and entirely unfair. The sock conspiracy was less conspiracy and more an omission. However, as she made her way back to the bedroom to get her blazer she decided that the wrath of hiding all his suspenders was worth it.
