This turned out way longer than I expected. If you can't tell already, I have a fascination with Sharon as a parent, particularly as a parent of teenagers and twenty-somethings. Those can be really interesting relationships. I had a lot of really great ideas for this one, and came up with a way to do them all, including Sharon/Rusty, Sharon/daughter, and not one, but two scenes from 1x07. Basically, this is How to (or maybe not) Parent, Sharon Raydor Style. Enjoy!
As usual, not mine. Beth is mostly mine, but everyone else I'm just messing with.
"Mom? Mom? Hello… Are you there?"
Beth's voice in her ear snapped Sharon back into the present moment. She'd returned to the apartment that night without much in mind but the comfort that a nice glass of wine and maybe a bath might bring her. Unfortunately, she hadn't gotten to either just yet. Rusty was still in a mood after the day's events, and Beth had called nearly the moment they'd walked through the door. Normally a call from Beth was not something that put her out at all. Quite the contrary. Even though she lived on the other side of the country, Beth rarely called of her own volition; weeks often went by without a word, so when she did call it was a bit of a treat. Tonight, however, was not one of those hey-Mom-how's-it-going-just-checking-in-you-catch-any-mildly-interesting-bad-guys sort of calls. She could tell from the moment she picked up the phone and seated herself on the couch to talk. No, this was one of those yes-I-know-I'm-twenty-three-and-supposedly-an-adult-but-I-just-really-need-my-Mommy-right-now sort of call. And yes, sometimes it was nice to know that even though Beth and Ricky were all grown up and independent now, they still needed her sometimes…It was just that she had gone from a relatively solitary lifestyle to being needed by someone every minute of the day, all in the space of a few days. The strain was catching up to her. Oh well. She had signed up for this, after all.
Sharon straightened now, removing her glasses and sweeping back her hair in a single motion, rubbing her forehead a bit at the same time. "Yes, honey," she said, sighing softly. "I'm here. Sorry. What were you saying?" She leaned back as she spoke so she could see down the hall towards Rusty's room. His light was still on. Hopefully she'd have time to check on him once she'd handled this Beth situation before bed. She was still worried about how the day's events had effected him.
"Oh." Beth's voice came back to her over the cell phone Sharon was holding to her ear. "Well I was just—Are you okay, Mom?" Her voice sounded mildly concerned now.
Sharon smiled a little sadly. There were so many ways to answer that question, many of which might help her through her present turmoil, but only one that was what Beth needed to hear right now. "I'm fine, Beth." She brought her hand back up to rub her throbbing head. "Now what's going on?"
She heard Beth take a deep breath over the phone before she launched into her latest catastrophe. "Well, we got our assignments for the season's production of Sleeping Beauty this morning, and I got the Lilac Fairy. But—"
"Oh, that's wonderful, Beth!" Sharon interrupted, real enthusiasm in her voice. "You get to cast the spell and everything! You must be so excited." She could tell there was more to the story, but she was genuinely thrilled for her daughter.
"Yeah." Beth sounded far from excited, however. Sharon waited, knowing she didn't really need to coax it out. This was the reason Beth had called. Just let her tell the story, she told herself. "Well Celine is being a total bitch about it, because she got Candide and the Bluebird. She's being so obnoxious and keeps saying that the only reason I got the part is because I'm more 'solidly built' and there are fewer lifts for the Lilac Fairy. I was learning choreography all morning, and every time I did a jump or something, Celine would pretend to fall over because like, the floor was shaking from my weight or something. And it's just so stupid!" She fell silent now.
Sharon sighed again. As much as she had loved to dance as a girl, and as much as she loved the ballet now, especially watching her beautiful daughter on the stage, this was the part of the business she really hated. The superficiality and the grown women still acting like high school girls drove her crazy. She opened her mouth to finally speak, but Beth was already talking again.
"Now Mom, before you start your big 'I told you so' and 'ballerinas are high school girls with a credit line and better tutus' speech, I know. Don't go there. I just need my Mom right now, not a lecture." Beth stopped, and finally seemed to be finished now.
Sharon leaned forward now, and switched her cell phone over to her other ear, pushing her hair back again. "Okay," she said softly. "For the record, I was just going to say three things." She got up and started towards the kitchen. She needed that glass of wine. It didn't look like a nice long bath was in the cards for her tonight, but she could at least have a glass of Chardonnay while she was handling the present crisis. "First, ballerinas are high school girls with better comebacks and a lot more alcohol. They're bitches, present company excluded of course." She pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge, smiling as she heard Beth giggle a little bit on the other end. "A credit line and better tutus? Seriously, Beth? I am way better than that." She pulled a wine glass down from the adjacent cupboard. "Second," she held the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she poured a glass of wine. "You are the perfect size. There is literally no world in which 4'11 and eighty-five pounds is 'solidly built'. Being small and having breasts isn't a crime. And honestly, would it kill you to have a couple fries or a piece of pizza every now and then?" She put the bottle back in the fridge and headed back to the couch with her glass. "I mean, I'm a health nut and even I think you could do with a little junk every once in a while." She sat back down on the couch, pulling her feet up beside her and setting the wine glass on the table to her left. She heard Beth laughing outright on the phone now. It sounded like she was about to say something. "Uh-uh. I am not done!" Sharon was giggling a bit now herself. "Thirdly, you may have grown up knowing that all that really matters is being safe and being kind, but not everyone has the wonderful mother you do." She smirked. "And honey, you're going to have to deal with those poor deprived souls all your life—"
"—and complaining won't make it better," Beth finished. "I know, Mom." She sounded exasperated, but in an amused way. "Why did I call you again? Seriously, I could have had this conversation with myself. I knew exactly what you were going to say!" But she was giggling as she said it.
Sharon took a sip of wine, still smiling. "Well, I do me so much better, dahling," she said, drawing out the last word playfully. "You have that terribly high-pitched voice. You could never be me, you don't have the voice for it." She chuckled, now lowering her voice further, to its most dangerous pitch. "Cheap imitation will get you in serious trouble, young lady."
Beth laughed again. "Oh Mom, stop it! You're killing me." Sharon grinned. Somehow she had managed to cheer them both up without really trying too hard. Being a mother was so much easier when they lived on the other side of the country, she thought ruefully. She heard the bathroom door close. Rusty had taken over the bathroom. There was no way she was getting that relaxing bath now. She sighed.
"Anyway," Beth was saying now, "how are things, Mom? You still have that kid staying in the guest room?"
"Yes," Sharon said slowly, listening for the shower before she said any more. After his outburst this afternoon, she needed to be very careful about what she said in his earshot. She heard the shower turn on, and felt safe to elaborate. "He's still here, yes. I don't really call it the guest room anymore, though. It's important that he feels a sense of permanence here with me. So if Rusty is still here when you come to visit in a couple of months, just try not to call it that, okay?" She hoped her word choice might go unnoticed by Beth, she really didn't want to have this conversation tonight. No such luck.
"If? If he's still there? What does that mean?"
Sharon knew she shouldn't have phrased it that way. "Well, his biological father sort of surfaced recently. Rusty doesn't know him, and I don't really think he wants to change things, but there's the possibility that he could get placed with his father's family." She let out another sigh, rubbing her head again. The headache was coming back with the recent change in conversation.
"Oh. Wow." Beth sounded a little unsure. "But that's a good thing, right? I mean, this situation with you was only supposed to be temporary. And he sounds like a really troubled kid. Wouldn't it be better for both of you if he was with someone he was actually related to?" Beth stopped for a moment. "It's just—Mom. You sound a little disappointed. I'd have thought this was a good thing."
Sharon frowned. This was exactly why she didn't want to have this conversation tonight. She'd been having it with herself all day, and had really had enough. But Beth deserved to know what was going on. "It's complicated. Because of Rusty's issues, his placement has to be dealt with very delicately." She took another sip of wine. "I don't want to go too in-depth on it with you right now because he doesn't know you and he needs to feel that I respect his privacy and secure in opening up to me. But I will say that because of his experiences on the streets, his risk factors are significantly reduced when he can control his exposure to men. He trusts women more easily and is more willing to open up to us. Throwing him into a situation with a man he doesn't know as the parental figure could be really harmful to him. Besides that," she continued, "he has a lot of other issues and I would just like to be absolutely sure that wherever he might be placed, the adults are prepared and able to handle those issues." She stopped there, choosing not to mention the gnawing feeling she had felt in her stomach that morning when she had met Mr. Dunn. She couldn't say if it was anything yet, and Beth really didn't need to know about it.
"Okay," Beth said slowly. "I guess I just don't really see why all this has to be your problem. I mean, it wasn't even really your case. Do you really—"
"Yes, honey, I do." Sharon cut her off a little sharply. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you." She let out a breath and ran her fingers through her hair. "It's just that he doesn't have anyone to care about him right now. He's sixteen, and no one has ever fought for him. He needs someone on his side." She took a deep breath. "Like I said, not everyone has the wonderful mother you do." She made a lame attempt at her earlier playful tone. It fell rather flat. "He needs me right now," Sharon said softly. "I hope you can understand that."
"I do, Mom."
Sharon heard the shower turn off in the bathroom down the hall. "Okay, Beth, I have to go. It's been a pretty long day." She looked at the clock. "It's after midnight your time, honey. You should be in bed!"
"Oh come on, Mom. It's a Friday night. Don't worry about me. But okay, I'll let you go."
Sharon smiled. "Get some sleep. And congratulations on your new part. I'm really excited for you. Love you."
"Love you too, Mom. Bye."
The line disconnected. Sharon got up and downed the last of her wine. She headed into the kitchen and started loading the dishwasher. She could hear Rusty finishing up in the bathroom and going into his room. She methodically made her way around the kitchen and living room, tidying up and wiping things down before bed, thinking about the earlier Rusty-related catastrophe.
The day had started out so ordinary. Well, if you could call getting kicked a Hollywood Division case and being tailed by a murderous political strategist all day ordinary. Such was Sharon's life these days. So yes, it had started out perfectly ordinary. But then Cynthia had turned up with this man, Mr. Dunn. It had all gone downhill from there, culminating in that confrontation in Rusty's cubicle.
Sharon walked out of the electronics room and headed quietly to the break room to get Rusty his soda. She was thinking very carefully how to go about this "notification" as Lieutenant Provenza had called it. She had told Rusty in no uncertain terms that she would be honest with him. Ignoring the situation and hoping he didn't notice the man sitting in the break room all day was no longer an option. Rusty deserved to know what was going on, and that wasn't Sharon's style, anyway. No, her best option seemed to be to just tell Rusty the truth straight out and take it from there. She didn't see a way out of it.
She walked into the break room. Daniel Dunn was still sitting where she'd left him, doing something on his phone. Sharon smiled tightly. "You know," she started, making her way over to the soda machine, "I really don't know how long it will be or even if Rusty will want to see you at all today." She tried to keep her tone light and conversational as she got a soda from the machine. "Are you sure you want to stay? I'd be happy to give you a call if Rusty changes his mind." She turned back towards the door, soda in hand.
"Thank you," Daniel said with equal levity. "But if it's all the same, I'll stay."
Sharon internally groaned, but didn't let her exasperation show on her face. "Of course. It's no problem." She turned on her heel and walked out the door, closing it softly behind her. There was something that rubbed her the wrong way about him, but she couldn't put her finger on it just yet. And it was time to talk to Rusty.
She walked slowly through the murder room towards Rusty's cubicle. When she got there, Sharon stuck her head around the corner first, just to make sure he was there. He was still sitting up on the desk, reading something for school; he hadn't moved while she had gone to the break room. She smiled at him when he looked up at her. She walked the rest of the way into the cubicle, holding the soda out to him wordlessly. He took it and started to get down from the desk.
"We need to talk, Rusty." Sharon internally grimaced. Had there ever been a more foreboding phrase in the English language? Nothing good ever came from a conversation that started with those words, and Rusty knew it. She could see the anxiety clearly etched on his face now.
"What is it, Sharon?" He sounded truly worried now as he walked slowly over to the chair on the other side of the cubicle and sat down with his soda.
Sharon watched him quietly for a moment. Better to just do it, she thought. Just rip off the bandaid and remain calm. She walked over to the desk where he was now sitting and leaned over him. "Rusty," she started softly, "your father wants to meet you."
The reaction was immediate and completely predictable.
Rusty slammed the still unopened soda onto the desk, hard. "What?!" He looked up at her, a heartbreaking look of hurt and betrayal in his eyes now. "You said it was up to me! That meeting my father was up to me!" His voice was rising in volume and decibels now, a sure danger sign.
Sharon swallowed hard, attempting to remain calm and bring the conversation back under control. Of course he felt betrayed, she reminded herself. He needed to understand how this had happened, and above all, that she was not trying to get rid of him. They had just gotten to a good place with mutual trust and emotional openness. This could destroy all that progress if she didn't get it back under control.
"Hold on, hold on, hold on," she said calmly as he started to get up and pace around the small area. He was losing it, taking it worse than she had anticipated. "Let me tell you what happened here—"
"He's in the building right now?!" Rusty spun on his heel, looking around frantically, his voice rising and cracking a little in his distress. Sharon could see his face was now distorted with anger and betrayal, on the verge of tears.
Sharon straightened up and attempted to keep eye contact as she nodded before attempting to continue. "Just listen for a sec—"
"Do you not see how screwed up this is, Sharon?!" Rusty was shouting now.
Sharon had never seen him so worked up before. She reminded herself that this was a family notification. She had done it hundreds of times before. It was one of the worst parts of the job, but she had always been good at it. The important thing was to keep calm and not betray any emotion. Talk them through their reaction to the news, but do not get emotionally involved. Sympathetic apathy, a seeming oxymoron, is your friend. Let them know you care without actually allowing yourself to care.
"Let me explain this to you." She raised her voice, speaking over Rusty's repeated 'oh my God' in the hope of finally getting through to him. His shouts grew louder, culminating in the loudest shout yet, punctuated by a loud bang as he slammed his arms against the file cabinet beside him. Sharon stopped speaking for a moment, thinking maybe if she waited he would calm himself down. Rusty quieted for a moment, his arms and head still against the cabinet in anguish.
"Let me explain," Sharon started yet again, her voice still slightly raised, leaning against the desk now. Rusty finally turned and looked at her. "When DCFS found out about Daniel Dunn," she continued, speaking quickly now. She needed him to hear as much of the story as possible before his anger took hold of him again. She was quite sure he was not finished being angry just yet. "They became legally obligated to tell him about you!" She motioned with her hands emphatically to make sure he got the point.
Rusty's face was still a mask of hurt and betrayal. He began pacing again. "Wait, wait. That's why Cynthia was here, did she bring this guy with her?"
Sharon opened her mouth in an attempt to explain Cynthia's presence, but in the end just watched helplessly as realization of the full situation dawned.
"Is he in the break room?"
Sharon just looked back at him wordlessly, the answer written clearly on her face.
"He is, isn't he? He is in the break room, and that is why you guys wouldn't let me in there to get my soda. Because I am the 'sensitive family problem' you have!"
Sharon continued to look at him, at a loss for what exactly to say. Rusty felt hurt and betrayed, and angry. And he had every right to be. They had gotten so close over the last few weeks and months. To see him falling apart so completely in front of her because of something she had indirectly done—albeit in an attempt to help him—was breaking her heart. She could not be trusted to maintain the emotional distance she needed for this conversation. It was impossible.
She made one last attempt to appeal to Rusty's rationality. "Cynthia thought she was doing a favor by bringing Mr. Dunn here."
Rusty exploded. "NO!" He looked at her fiercely, pointing an accusatory finger at her now, clearly beyond all reason. "YOU STOP IT, SHARON!" He was now so close to tears that his voice had adopted a high, scratchy quality. "SHE WAS DOING A FAVOR FOR YOU, SHE WAS NOT DOING A FAVOR FOR ME!" He motioned wildly, his whole body shaking with emotion. Still shouting, but no longer shrieking at her, he continued. "Great, the rules win! Now you can get rid of me, and it's not—"
At that, Sharon nearly threw any remaining vestiges of emotional distance and calm control out the window. "I am not trying to get rid of you!" She shouted back at him, keeping her hold on calmness distance at the last moment.
"Alright, enough, that's enough!"
A new voice had entered the fray. To Sharon's surprise, Lieutenant Provenza came to stand between Sharon and Rusty, cutting them both off. She knew the Lieutenant cared more than he liked to admit, but she had not expected him to interfere in this conversation. Especially after he had pushed her to make the notification herself.
"Now you know that I am not friends with this woman," Provenza began, pointing at Sharon without looking at her while he spoke to Rusty. Sharon moved around the desk, coming closer to the Lieutenant, never taking her eyes from Rusty. She found herself unable to look away from him in his emotional state. "But if she wanted to get rid of you, she could have dumped you in a group home months ago!" Provenza continued speaking directly to Rusty, looking at him intently.
Sharon was touched and completely surprised to find the Lieutenant defending her to Rusty. She reached out towards him. "Lieutenant, it's alright—"
Provenza pulled his arm out of her reach. "No, it's not alright. It is not alright!" He said sharply, looking at her for the first time. He turned back to Rusty. "So, this guy shows up. Says he's your father, wants to see you. Well, none of us like it!" He motioned broadly. "But instead of whining about the situation, let's look at our options."
Rusty finally looked back over at Sharon. "You talked to him?" He asked. His voice had finally lost that emotional quality that Sharon found so heartbreaking. She nodded silently. "And what did you think?"
Sharon looked over at Provenza, searching for the right words. Emotional distance was gone, she knew. She hated to admit it, but she had really been hurt by some of the words Rusty had just flung at her. She had raised two teenagers, she was used to shouting matches, but this one had gone beyond anything she's had to handle before. It was more emotionally charged than any fight she'd had with her children. The look of utter betrayal on Rusty's face had been enough, but the way he had shouted at her, his voice nearly broken, stubborn in his belief that she would toss him away so casually and betray her promise to him, that was what truly hurt her. But he needed an answer. And she needed to make sure her answer wouldn't betray either of them. She had to choose her words carefully.
Her voice shook slightly as she began. "Rusty. I'm gonna tell you the truth; I can't say that I liked him." He was listening now, so what she said would most likely influence Rusty's impression of this man. She fought to keep the emotion out of her voice. "I don't know him. And uh—" she stopped. She was losing the battle with her emotions. Her mask was slipping. "I can't be object—" she choked out, the tears starting to fall. She shook her head, trying to clear the emotion. It wasn't working, and she could not cry in front of Rusty and Provenza. She, like Rusty, did not cry in front of people. She refused to be reduced to a tearful idiot in front of her subordinates. She had spent decades building a reputation for emotional distance and icy indifference; she would not let that reputation be spoiled now. She looked for a way to make a graceful and quick exit. "I—He made an effort to come and see you, and I think, just think about that." She looked away from him and started rushing out of the cubicle.
"Sharon, I'm sorry." Rusty spoke behind her.
"I know." Her voice still betrayed her unshed tears.
"Sharon, I'm sorry." He said again, louder this time.
"I know," Sharon said again. "I know." Her voice cracked slightly as she tried to reassure him with a wave of her hand. And then she was out, walking rapidly across the murder room towards her office, praying he would take the hint and not follow her. She made it to her office without being stopped and quickly closed the blinds and the door. She leaned against the door now, one hand still touching the doorknob, and let the tears fall.
Sharon closed the dishwasher now, turning the knob to begin the cycle. She found comfort in the every day tidying of the kitchen and living room. Especially after a day like today. If only it had stopped there. But Mr. Dunn had refused to leave, complicating their day further. The second time she broached the subject with Rusty had gone much better, but it had still made for a very rough day.
Sharon left Rusty alone the rest of that afternoon, partly because she was wrapping up her murder case, and partly to give him time to think on his own. He needed some time to process all of this. But that evening, after the deal was done, she sought Rusty out again near his cubicle. He was staring out the window into the dark. She approached him quietly, trying not to spook him.
"Rusty."
He looked at her standing behind him in the window's reflection. They were both silent.
"Have you given any more thought to our situation?" Sharon asked quietly, moving to his right, leaning against the wall to face his profile as he continued to stare out the window. "I think it says something good about Daniel, that he waited around for twelve hours," she coaxed, trying to get him to engage.
"I waited for sixteen years," he said, finally turning to look at her for a moment, leaning against the wall on the opposite side.
Sharon nodded. "And that's tough." She was glad to see that while he was still very obviously angry, it was no longer directed at her. "But maybe not his fault," she pointed out quietly. She could see that Rusty saw the logic in that, but wasn't necessarily happy about it. She took another stab at it, coming from a different angle. "Look. What you do today is still your decision. When the DNA comes back—"
"I know." Rusty was still looking out the window, not fully engaged in the conversation. Finally he looked at her and started to speak. "I've been looking it up all day long on the internet." He swayed a little as he talked. "The whole, parental rights thing. If he takes us to court, we're screwed. The law is on his side. So don't say we have choices. We don't have choices. Either of us."
Sharon smiled slightly when she heard him speak of 'us' and 'we'. It seemed he finally did understand and trust that they were in this together. That was something, at least. "We can choose how we react," she said softly.
"Yeah," Rusty replied, stomping his foot in frustration. "But he won't like me, Sharon."
Sharon watched him, surprised. That's what this was about? People finding out about his past? It still shocked her at how unaccustomed Rusty was to being loved, or liked, even. She fought the urge to just pull her into her arms. He wouldn't take to that kindly. And that's not what he needed at the moment. Right now, he just needed someone to listen to him and help him work through this admittedly tough situation.
"He'll find out everything about me, and I just…I can't." Rusty was looking out the window again. "It makes me feel like I have to run away, to be somewhere else."
Sharon looked at him urgently. "You can't get to somewhere else, because the thing that you wanna run away from, you take it with you." She desperately needed him to understand this. Not just because of Daniel Dunn. This was bigger than that. She didn't know what she'd do if he ran away again. He had to know that running wouldn't help. It wasn't an answer, it was more of a question. Breaking him of this flawed logic would help him immensely. "Where you go, it goes. So before you run away, why don't you give him a really good look in the eye?" Rusty looked at her, finally nodding. She smiled in relief.
"I know that I already said that I was sorry for…for saying that you wanted to get rid of me. That was, that was terrible." She smiled reassuringly at him. She would not have been too harsh on him for that anyway, but it seemed that her nearly public emotional breakdown had guilted him sufficiently. Clearly, he felt terrible, which was sweet. "And I don't really think that. I just, I feel…like I don't belong here sometimes. Which is weird, because you have been nothing but good to me, Sharon. And I know that. I always know that." Sharon nodded and smiled a little sadly at him. They looked at each other for a long moment, then Rusty began to walk away, towards the break room and his father. She watched him walk away, pride filling her chest as she realized how far they'd come.
Content now that everything was as it should be in the apartment, Sharon headed back to her bedroom. What Beth had said about Sharon not really needing to take care of Rusty was still echoing in her mind. Rusty did need her. After today, he probably needed her more than ever. She stopped in the middle of the hallway and turned to Rusty's room. The door was closed, but she could still see a light shining behind it. She knocked softly.
"Rusty?" She called quietly through the door. "Are you awake?"
She heard movement, and the door opened. Rusty was in his pajamas, hair still damp from his shower.
"Can we talk for a minute?" She motioned for him to open the door a little wider.
Rusty looked surprised. "Oh. Yeah, sure." He opened the door and stepped aside to let her in. She walked in and settled herself on the end of his bed while he stood awkwardly at the door.
"Come on, Rusty, sit down. I just want to talk to you for a minute." She patted the comforter beside her, and he finally came and sat next to her.
"Rough day, huh?" Sharon said quietly, looking at him.
"Yeah." He looked down at his feet. "Listen, Sharon. I really am sorry—"
"Oh Rusty, stop." Sharon waved her hand to cut him off. "That's not what I'm here to talk about. We all say things we don't mean when we've had an emotional shock. Don't worry about it."
Rusty looked unconvinced, but she looked at him pointedly and he shrugged.
"Listen. Tonight, when you said we didn't have any choices, you were right." Rusty opened his mouth to say something, but Sharon waved him off again. "No, I mean you were right—we don't have any choices. Us. You and me. We are both in this." She was watching him carefully as she spoke. He looked more comfortable and was listening intently, she could tell. "But I'm afraid I haven't really been fair to you. A long time ago, I put the Berlin Wall up between my personal and professional life. There were a lot of reasons back then, but the point is that those reasons don't matter any more. When you came to stay with me," she continued, "you started to chip away at that wall. This afternoon, it came tumbling down." Rusty looked worried now, afraid that maybe she was upset with him about something.
"Oh man, Sharon. I didn't mean—" Rusty started tentatively.
"Hush, Rusty. I'm saying it's not a bad thing," she said, smiling. "I'm saying—the reasons for that wall aren't reasons anymore. And you need and deserve more. You deserve better than the detached professionalism I give you most of the time. For the time being, at least, I am your parent. And this will always be your home. The least I can do is give you some emotional openness." She looked at him intently. "So if you want to know something, ask. If you have a problem, tell me about it. All I ask is that I receive the same from you. I promised you honesty before; this is more than that. This means that if there's something going on with you, I want to know about it. If there's something bothering me, I'll tell you about it. Because we are in this together. You know what I'm saying?" Rusty nodded. "Okay then. We have a deal?" She held her hand out, and he shook it.
Sharon smirked. "Suddenly you have very little to say. Is your mouth still working?" She nudged him gently in the ribs with her elbow, and he jumped back a little.
"Oh shut up, Sharon. I'm fine. Just thinking. Does this mean that we're like, equals now or something?" He looked at her slyly. She could see the cogs working in that teenage brain of his. Better nip that idea in the bud.
She pretended to think for a moment. "Ummm. No." She grinned. "I am still the parent. I have final say, and you retain the right to complain about it." She thought for a second while she rose from the bed. "Like right now, for example. Tomorrow is Saturday, and I say we're going to that new art exhibit Brenda got me tickets to." Rusty groaned. "And you get to moan and groan about how boring it is, but come along anyway. See how that works?" She winked at him as she headed out of his room.
"Remind me how this is any different?" Rusty called after her through his open doorway.
Sharon laughed. "Oh it is," she said more to herself than Rusty. "Very different."
Okay, that's it. Wow. This one really got away from me. I hope there wasn't too much going on in there for you guys. A couple of PSAs: I'm posting these as I write them, in whatever order that may be. But at some point in the near future, I will arrange them in some semblance of order in a multi-chapter story form, though they will stand alone. Probably not for a while yet, though. I love reviews! I'm still pretty new at this, so any input is always appreciated! Let me know if there's a scene you want me to do. Until next time, lovelies!