Changing What Rain Means

Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine; James Duff, et al, has that lovely distinction.

A/N: I found the muse sitting out in the rain; she thought of Shandy while enjoying getting soaked. Leave reviews if y'all feel so inclined, and Enjoy!

~~~~~PT~~~~~

When Captain Sharon Raydor left for work that morning it was a bright sunny Los Angeles day. The weather channel had given the all clear for the week ahead. An hour later a storm came out of nowhere drenching the city. An hour after that they were responding to a call; another suspected murder in the City of Angels. She didn't go to every crime scene; there was usually no reason for her to be there. Her second-in-command was more than competent enough to handle it and keep her updated. When Asst Chief Taylor got involved, for whatever reason, she was called to appear. Now she was trudging through mud to see their latest victim.

An umbrella wasn't enough to save her shoes from the heavy downpour and the mud. As she neared the tent, she heard Lt Provenza grumble, "Our vic would have to get dumped in a muddy field just before it poured like hell all day." Smiling, she announced her arrival, "Lt, what've we got?" Looking around, "Why am I here?" She was given the answer to both questions and moved along to placate Taylor and the media. The field belonged to a prominent family so time was of the essence. In the end, the 'murder' turned out to be a suicide, hence the location the stranger to the family had chosen, and she had time to just sit and think as she looked out her office window at the drops that continued to fall.

Rainy days made Sharon melancholy. When the day was done, reports were handed in and signed, evidence boxed up, the Captain wished everyone a good evening and headed to her office to gather her things. Lt Andy Flynn didn't ask her what was wrong. He knew his place better now and it wasn't to look after her. She could do that herself. He'd check on her later when they weren't at work. Then he'd be her boyfriend who was worried about her.

Once home, she showered the muddy field off her then poured a glass of wine to sip as she watched the rain from her place on the couch. It was a hard storm and the city needed it but it took her back to sadder times. The first time Jack left, it was in the middle of a downpour just like this one. She had come home from work, drenched and tired, only to find a note he'd left for her. The envelope was damp as if he'd stood in the rain after writing the letter but before he sealed it up in the envelope and hadn't dried his hands properly. That told her he was nervous, unsure of what he was planning. He'd taken the time to rethink his actions. He'd left anyway. She didn't read it until the children were asleep. Afterwards she'd stood on her balcony and let the rain soak her to the bone. No one would be able to see her tears if she was wet from the rain.

Most days he left after that were bright and sunny. She couldn't exactly remember the details of all those times but she could recall the rainy days he left. Those were somehow the ones that had hurt her the most. Maybe the rain affected his mood and he wasn't able to handle her nagging as well as he did on other days. Maybe the rain affected his ability to drive and the childless women he lusted after who offered him rides looked better to him than she did after two pregnancies. Maybe the rain wet his money so he needed to take more of hers out of her account. So many maybes in their life together happened when the skies opened up and the gods cried. On those days, Sharon stood on the balcony after she was sure her children were fast asleep. She let herself cry with the gods. She embraced the pain. She wondered what she did wrong to make him leave even though she had asked him to stay. She tried to figure out why love hurt so much.

It was on that balcony in the pouring rain that she learned to let go. She always had a soft spot for her husband but he was gone too much to be in love with him anymore. As the drops hit her hard, the wind whipped her hair around, her tears fell unnoticed, she learned to let go of the dreams they'd had and face the reality that she wasn't the wife he wanted; she was just he one he needed.

On this day, she finished her glass of wine, tugged her favorite cardigan tighter around her, and walked onto the balcony. Although they were divorced and she was newly trying with Andy, she stood out there wondering why her Lt waited for, and cared about, someone with whom Jack couldn't spend long periods of time. She worried her bossing him around at work would make her seem like a nag at home. She obviously still did that; Rusty had called her on it when he first got there. She wondered why he would prefer her to the young women he was known to date in the past. She worried they'd end up the same way, in love and apart, hurting each other. This time she'd have to see him at work. At least that was never an issue with Jack.

The wind whipped her wet strands around as the tears began to fall. The rain drenched her as she held onto the railing, face to the sky, afraid of the step she'd taken agreeing to date Andy yet more afraid of what might've happened if she didn't open her heart again. The rain drops slid down her cheeks taking her tears with them. As she stood out there, memories of old flashed through her mind as well as dreams of the new possibilities Andy offered. She had such strong feelings for that man. She could admit that to herself. Admitting them to him would be another battle altogether.

The beginnings of relationships were supposed to be fun and carefree. She thought of the excitement they felt seeing each other outside of work but there were the rules she'd put in place. They offset the carefreeness of their new way of interacting with each other. She thought of the small touches, lingering caresses and the kisses. How she enjoyed kissing him despite not being ready for anything more. She wondered how long Andy's patience would last; how long he'd wait for her to move beyond the painful lessons Jack taught her.

The doorbell ringing brought Sharon back to her senses and she hurried, wet to the bone, to answer. Opening the door, she smiled at Andy and tried to wave away his look of concern as he took in her appearance. He dropped his belongings on her entry table and she took his hand, leading him to the balcony with her. He didn't know what was going on so while he debated asking, he held her letting her tighten her grip on him within seconds. Her face nuzzled into his neck, her hands tight around his middle, she finished crying silently hoping he didn't realize what she was doing. He did; he just didn't let on, instead choosing to pull her tighter into him and whispering, "Whatever it is, you'll be all right, Sharon, we'll be all right."

"Rainy days sometimes make me sad, Andy," she explained as she looked up at him.

"We could do something about that," he offered with a small smile. "We can't change whatever's bothering you but we can make new memories in the rain."

Her breath caught in her throat as she worried he meant something she wasn't ready to do yet; something he wanted though. "Andy, I –," she began but stopped.

"I'm talking about just making out with each other, right here, right now in this damn rain that's had you in a weird mood all day."

"Oh," she breathed out on a sigh of relief.

He leaned down towards her, covering her lips with his own. She poured her pain and uncertainty into that kiss; her passion and desire went into it also, matching his. His hands were in her wet hair, hers moved over his back. As the kisses became deeper, more passionate, their moans sailed on the wind, soaring to the heavens that brought the rain. From the moment he arrived, her thoughts were in the present, thinking only of them and the future ahead. It was as if continuing to weep in Andy's arms had washed her connection between the rain and Jack away for good.

Andy was giving her a reason to enjoy standing on her balcony, getting soaked, as they lost themselves in each other. This was new to her. Rainy days on her balcony meant release of her inner thoughts, her fears, and her sadness. This was a different release. This was still her inner thoughts, but fear was replaced by courage, sadness by hope. Her heart swelled with the feelings she had for him; those emotions she held in, protecting herself from pain. She was tempted, as he was, to admit the truth as they kissed, touched and held each other in that pouring rain that brought with it vulnerability.

"You have no idea how much you mean to me, Sharon," he allowed himself to admit between passionate kisses, "how much I care about you."

She moved her head back a little to get a better look at him. There was no cocky lopsided grin, no sure-of-himself smirk; she saw a raw openness in his expression that told her so much more than he was willing to say to her just yet. It melted her heart to see how honest he allowed himself to be with her; how open this man who ran from emotional attachment was being; how much he altered what standing on her balcony in the rain meant to her.

The tears were for them now. She tried to hide them and the rain gods did their best to remove them from sight even as he was wiping them away with his thumbs. He stood there, afraid he had pushed her too much, too soon. When her hands moved up to cup his face, he wasn't sure he wanted to hear what she might say. His thoughts were swirling, his fear of rejection beginning to spiral, as she whispered, "Andy, you are so very important to me, entrenched in my heart, more than I can say right now. Just know that I truly care about you."

His lips were on hers in an instant, his hands wanting to feel as much of her as she allowed. To his surprise, she allowed more than ever before while still keeping it within her modest comfort zone. The rain had freed something in her that night, or maybe he did, he wasn't sure. When she slowed down their kisses to whisper, "I care so much about you, Andy," he felt his pressure increase. As they stood there, drenched to the skin, their movements slowed yet the passion didn't.

When they stopped to look at each other, she smiled and whispered, "I'm beginning to feel better about the rain, Andy, thank you."

"Anytime, Sharon, whatever you need from me," he promised as he pulled her into another kiss.

The wind was blowing her hair, swirling it around them, tying them together in a web of passion neither expected to find at this stage of their lives.

As Rusty quietly passed, having just come home, he noticed them out there, lost in each other as the rain poured down on them. This was the first time he realized there was passion left in them, passion at their age. He felt guilty for watching their private moment, yet at the same time he was intrigued and frightened at what he saw. Passion at their age, the look of love he saw as her hair moved away briefly only to be blown back around creating their own cocoon. He continued on to his room, unsettled at how conflicted he felt.

Sharon and Andy stood on that balcony unaware their private moments had been observed. They were too lost in each other, in changing what the rain meant to her, in showing rather than saying what was hiding in their hearts to notice anything but one another and how each made the other feel.

It was during their slowest kiss, their passion ebbing with the acknowledgement that lovemaking would not happen that night, that the rain gods finally grew tired and withdrew their drops. Sharon's smile said it all, though she did put voice to her thoughts. "You helped me make it through, Andy," she rasped out.

"I will always help you, Sharon, aways be here for you, waiting for you," he assured her in a voice hoarse with desire.

She looked away then, her fear he'd get tired of waiting filling her thoughts and wrapping around her heart like a vice. He could hear the sadness and the worry in her voice when she spoke. "You'll get tired of waiting, Andy, and I'm not ready. I'm sorry." She didn't turn around, didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes she could no longer hide in the rain.

Wrapping his arms around her, he whispered, "I'm not leaving you just because we aren't making love yet." At her sigh, he continued, "It will be lovemaking, Sharon, and it'll be worth the wait." When she nuzzled her face into his neck, he had one request. "Don't run because you think I will. We're here, we're in this together and we ain't quitting, you hear me."

"Yes," she sniffled into his neck. "Oh, I could love you, Andy," she whispered.

"I could love you too, Sharon," he whispered back as his hands tried to soothe her, comfort her, and help her lose her fears despite feeling some of the same anxiety. "I could love you too," he repeated because it was the closest they were going to get that night to admitting what they really felt for one another.

When they finally stood apart, she placed a soft kiss on his lips, took his and led him back inside. "I'll make coffee for us and we can have a more normal conversation."

He looked down at his clothes, sticking to his skin, causing her to smile. The man looked good. "Ricky left a pair of sweatpants and a while t-shirt he sleeps in when he's here. You can change into them while I'm drying our clothes."

"Oh okay, cuz I was thinking I'd be standing until I leave," he smirked at her.

Rolling her eyes, "I'm a better host than that, Andy."

Pulling her to him, "You're a better girlfriend than that too, Sharon." Groaning at the term girlfriend at their ages, she leaned up to kiss him softly. "I'll be right back with those dry clothes. I don't want you getting sick and blaming me."

After they had both changed, they drank their coffee in silence until he finally worked up the courage to ask what happened to upset her.

Hesitating, she sighed before answering, "Jack happened," then upon seeing his look, she quickly added, "in the past."

"Figured that much, I just didn't want to assume. What happened in the past, Sharon, won't be the same with us. Do you believe that?"

"Yes," she answered quietly, "I do, Andy, it doesn't mean I don't get frightened. It has nothing to do with you personally."

"Then talk to me about things when they come up. If I had just called, you would've said you were fine and talked to me like this," he waved toward the balcony, "didn't happen."

"I'll get better," she promised and she meant it. Andy wasn't Jack; he'd never put her through the same things her ex-husband had. Here was a chance for a new start and she planned on fully embracing it.

[The End]