Straw Man

A/N: Picks up where "The Fury of Roslyn" left off. "The Fury of Roslyn" follows "My Achy-Breaky Heart."

Sharon stretched herself out on a big white wooden Adirondack chair. Her feet were propped up as she luxuriated in the spring sunshine of midday. She watched her husband Andy cast his line into the lake repeatedly from the dock in back of the cabin they were enjoying on their honeymoon. She took a sip of the tea that stood in a glass on the table next to her. She knew that in a few hours, Andy would have caught fish for supper tonight and breakfast tomorrow. He had already caught two modest ones that swam around in the tank at the end of the dock.

She picked up her book and flipped to the page where she'd left off yesterday. Late April in northern New York was still chilly if the wind caught you. However, the sun was delightfully warm, inviting cat naps in the lee of a barn or farmhouse. The cobblestone cottage by the lake was perfectly situated to provide both a windbreak and sunbeams. Sharon found the climate a little cooler than her normal Los Angeles, but it was a welcome break. Big cumulus clouds passed randomly in the spring sky every so often. However, the best part of it all was having Andy all to herself. His heart issues were under medical control. His blood pressure had been more than fine since they had arrived and unpacked. Nothing in the world was causing them the slightest distress. This was a honeymoon that was a dream.

Andy cast his line off the dock again. He had reeled in another fish and dumped it into the tank with the others. He teased the rod and sat down on the chair he'd dragged to the dock. He glanced over at his wife and waved. Her loving smile was his instant reward. This was a simply perfect week - away from the Los Angeles traffic, away from criminals, away from stress, away from idiots and dirtbags, and even away from his best pal, Provenza. Here he was alone at last with his Sharon. Jack had died from a massive coronary slightly more than six months ago, so now, at long last Sharon was all his and his alone. He again turned his attention to catching supper for them.

A few hours later and after sorting through the fish he'd caught, releasing the smaller ones, Andy took the pan-sized ones to the cottage. He found Sharon catnapping in the sun, her book lying across her chest, the brim of her hat slouched over her face. He could not help himself but smile. Andy cleaned the fish and tucked them into the fridge.

He popped his head back out to see if Sharon had awakened. No, she was still sleeping peacefully. He set the table and rummaged through the fridge for something to go with the fish he would soon prepare. Sharon had gotten a sack of wild and long grain rice, some carrots, fresh green beans, and cauliflower at the market before they had arrived. She also picked up a Tupper Lake Outfitters calendar for the fridge door while he got his fishing license taken care of.

He began the rice then looked about for utensils he'd need. The knife in the rack was as dull as a butter knife. It took a few more drawers opened, inspected, and shut before Andy found the knife sharpener. Once he got his paring knife the way he liked it, his hands made fast work of the vegetables. He found and cleaned the skillet and a wok under the sink. Andy figured they were the first guests of the season up here. Before he began to cook anything, he made another pass outside.

"Sweetheart," he moved the brim back and gave her a gentle kiss, "I'm getting ready to fix supper."

Bleary green eyes looked back up at him, "What time is it, Andy?"

"It's about half past five," Andy said softly. "You wanted to enjoy the sunset this evening around 7:30. I thought we'd eat first."

Sharon stretched herself before climbing back out of the chair. She took the book back inside as she made for the lavatory behind the kitchen. Andy started the rest of food. He sautéed the veggies in the wok while carefully watching the fish gently fry in the skillet. He had chosen several spices to add flavor to the mild white fish and vegetable medley. Sharon strolled back in and gave a sniff.

She hummed low and soft, "Smells good! I'm so glad I married a man who can cook," she teased him as she swiftly rubbed her palm across his back.

He stretched his neck around to give her a peck on the cheek, "I cook; you clean."

"Deal!" she exclaimed.

When the fish was done, Andy zipped the bones out and placed the halves on plates decorated with crunchy color on a bed of rice. He poured Sharon a glass of wine and emptied the mineral water into his glass.

"Your table awaits, my Dear," he beaconed her.

Just as she was about to sit, Andy drew her close to himself, "Life's uncertain, eat dessert first," he kissed her tenderly.

Oh how she adored this man.

True to her word, after supper, she busied herself in the kitchen cleaning the dishes and two pans. She was pleased that Andy had not dirtied everything in the kitchen as Rusty had his first time making supper for them years ago. Once the dishes were in the drainer and pans wiped dry and placed back in their places, the couple was ready to enjoy the anticipated sunset on the lake.

Andy wrapped Sharon in a large sweater. Together they walked to the end of the dock and enjoyed the sunset and snuggling in each other's arms. Their legs dangled over the edge of the dock just a few inches above the water. It was far too cold to swim.

Swimming in Tupper Lake was generally not something anyone wanted to do until some time in July and August. The water in spring was 40-something. It seldom reached into the mid-70s at any time in the year. So as much as they might have wanted to swim, it was the wrong season for that activity. They would though take the canoe out a few times. Mostly, they confined themselves to the cabin and yard.

Since the cabin was a seasonal one rather than year round, fireplaces were the sole source of heat on chilly nights. This night was no different. Sharon had discovered long ago that a paper grocery sack pulled inside out made an excellent fire starter. Andy brought in some smaller logs as she prepared the fire's bed. One match, one fire, several quilts.

Andy held his wife close to his heart. He knew all too well that if allowed to sleep on her back, snoring would commence around four in the morning. It was better for all if he held Sharon on her side, close to his own. It also served to keep his snoring to a minimum. Furthermore, the position curtailed Sharon's becoming the blanket spool, leaving Andy out in the cold night air.

Commander Sharon Raydor decided to keep the "Raydor" name to tamp down any uncertainty over which person was the intended recipient of a request. Besides, she had been an LAPD officer named "Raydor" for decades, so why mess with what worked?

Andy was just fine with that, so when the name "Flynn!" was called out at a crime scene or in the Murder Room, he knew to respond while "Raydor" left it alone. Socially, Sharon was more than happy to be addressed as Mrs. Andy Flynn. All the children were equally pleased by her adoption of "Flynn" for off-duty and the retention of "Raydor" for on-duty. Moreover, this served to keep their two worlds from colliding.

For Louie Provenza's part, he was overjoyed to be promoted to Captain but had a hard time transitioning to the title for himself. Amy amused herself by calling out "Captain" only to see Provenza's head pop up from his crossword puzzle looking for Sharon Raydor. He would scowl and grumble something unpleasant at her then get back to what he'd been doing. Julio also quietly enjoyed the running joke. The new nameplates had come in while the Flynns were on their honeymoon.

The team had assembled on time, sweet rolls and caffeine all in hand, to discuss a cold case since there was no fresh case at the moment.

Provenza selected one in which a child had been kidnapped but never found. Her mother had reported her missing after school nearly ten years ago. Alive, Cynthia Miller would be a sweet sixteen now.