To usher in the holiday season and belatedly celebrate glittermaid18's birthday, enjoy some shamelessly fluffy Christmas Shandy. :)
This story was written in the summer, so it goes goes a bit against my headcanon, but I hope you like it anyway. Title derived from a Della Reese quote: "I could not have made it this far had there not been angels along the way." Special thanks to lolcat202 for muting my insecurities. All mistakes are mine.
For the first time in years, Sharon's exhaustion on Christmas night did not come from tidings of great joy. Sharon and Andy had planned to spend their first Christmas together even before Ricky and Emily broke the news every budding adult fears—work would keep them away from home during the holidays this year. On the phone, Sharon hid her disappointment behind assurances of Rusty's undoubted appreciation for the extra attention. Curled up in bed with a few tissues later that night, Sharon hoped that a quiet Christmas morning with two of her favorite boys would distract her from the fact that for the first time since her parents died, she would not see her children on Christmas morning.
While it offered a welcome diversion, Nicole's invitation to Christmas dinner surprised Sharon. Andy considered Sharon's presence at Flynn family events normal, but Sharon was still adjusting to his family's reaction to their relationship, the ripples that reverberated through her bond with his family. Nicole's trust faded drastically after the confusion the previous Christmas, and Andy was too busy blaming himself to notice that Nicole's mistrust extended to Sharon as well. Regardless, the invitation was a good sign, and by the time Christmas Eve rolled around, Rusty even offered to buy a dessert for the event.
Unfortunately, Sandra's unrelenting and unprovoked animosity toward Andy froze over the Christmas cheer. Her attendance had not been disclosed upon their invitation, but, as Nicole's mother, Sandra was perfectly welcome to attend a dinner in her daughter's home. Tonight, for whatever reason, Sandra did not treat Andy with the distant cordiality their twenty-year divorce cultivated. As the former wife of an alcoholic, Sharon could understand Sandra's bitterness on Christmas—the holidays used to be rough for Sharon and her kids too—but no amount of empathy could placate Sharon's frustration toward this abuse. Nicole appeared to be torn between keeping her parents from arguing and defending her mother's bitterness. Despite Andy's growth, Nicole's allegiance would likely always lie with her mother.
Every time Andy bit back a retort or tightened his grip on his steak knife, Sharon skimmed her thumb over his knuckles, simultaneously rewarding and imploring him. Serenity hadn't failed him, but no amount of acceptance could protect him from the pain of constant rejection. By the time Gus sliced the tension by fabricating an early morning shift, Andy had long since transferred his efforts to his grandsons, who proved more receptive to his affection.
Save Rusty and Gus' backseat chatter, the ride to Gus' apartment was unusually quiet. Silence had never been one of Andy's virtues, so the absence of a conversation anything or nothing worried Sharon. When Rusty walked Gus to his door, Sharon pounced on the opportunity to prod him.
"It's late," Sharon murmured, studying her son's hesitant gait. "Stay the night." She knew Andy wouldn't want to talk about this evening no matter what, but surely she could make him comfortable by invading his solitude, reminding him of her implicit trust, and hoping that was enough.
"Are you sure?" Andy asked. His voice cracked from what Sharon hoped was misuse and not a remnant of his emotional distress. "I've stayed the last few nights, and I don't want to push you."
Sharon reached across the console for his hand. "If anybody's accused of pushing, it should be me," she teased. She frowned when he didn't immediately brighten the night with a smile. Sparing one more glance at Gus' front door, she smoothed her palm over Andy's cheek. "I know tonight was hard for you. I know you're exhausted. Curling up in bed together sounds like the perfect end to our first Christmas, doesn't it?"
Andy's longstanding despair finally dissipated, and he gazed at Sharon like the only necessity in his life was to be loved by her. "Perfect."
Sharon hummed and kissed him, basking in the freedom of open relief their relationship progression allowed. Even though Andy's vehicular fiasco hastened the pace of their emotional relationship, she was slowly learning to enjoy the advantages of the physical intimacy born out of the pleasantly unexpected.
Unfortunately, the unexpected did not liberate Sharon from the knee-jerk reaction of being caught making out by her teenage son.
As usual, however, Rusty's preoccupation with his own problems saved both him and Sharon from embarrassment.
"Everything okay?" Sharon asked, tucking away several strands of hair Andy had teased out of her clip.
Rusty sighed and stared out the window, in the opposite direction of Gus' apartment. "I'm not sure," he muttered.
When Rusty didn't elaborate, Sharon knew how to change his tune. Toting two unhappy boys on Christmas was too much to bear. "Aren't we a merry bunch?" With an exaggerated sigh, she added, "I suppose I've mucked this Christmas up, haven't I?" She tried not to laugh when Andy almost hit a curb gaping at her.
"No, no, no, Mom, you didn't mess up anything!" Rusty fumbled over his mother's supposed insecurity. "I had a great day, and I'm so grateful for the new laptop you bought me and for surprising me with that trip to visit Em next week—really, Sharon, this was an awesome Christmas."
As Sharon gazed out the window, the twinkle lights strung along the utility poles of Los Angeles sparkled on every surface, every reflection. "Hmm, 'an awesome Christmas'… that sounds better."
"I guess I didn't pack enough pajamas for a four-night stay."
From her position in front of the bathroom mirror, Sharon gave Andy's reflection a once over that matched her wicked grin.
Andy stood behind her in her bedroom doorway, clad only in his red boxers and that come-hither smile, his legs crossed at the ankles and interlocked arms obscuring his bare chest.
"What an awful predicament." Sharon somehow sauntered the three steps it took to invade Andy's personal space. Her holiday enthusiasm extended to her lingerie drawer, and this evening, when she selected the red babydoll, she hoped it would help her give Andy a gift he'd been medically denied for weeks. As much as the emotional intimacy delighted Sharon, she'd been itching to initiate the more carnal affection Andy had been cleared for the previous day. "I've got something for you." Sharon toyed with one end of the sash on her fastened robe.
Perhaps because of the lengthy health-regulated celibacy period, Andy did not catch the hint hurled at him. "Oh, yeah?" His voice went up in pitch, which did not indicate that Sharon's plan was going accordingly. "Me too. Hold—hold on just one second." Without another word, he bolted to the bedroom and rummaged through his nightstand.
Knowing he wasn't digging for anything fun, Sharon swallowed her momentary disappointment and moseyed into the bedroom just as Andy found what he sought. "What is it?"
Driven by some bizarre attempt at secrecy, Andy whirled around and stubbed his toe on his nightstand. He hissed a string of curses and dismissed Sharon's concerns in the same breath. "I'm fine, I'm fine. I didn't need that toe anyway." He took her offered hand and tugged her down with him when he sat on his side of the bed to breathe through the pain.
For the first time, Sharon saw what Andy was trying to hide, a Tiffany box, fortunately too big for a ring. Still, jewelry usually indicated a desire for another level of commitment, and, despite their relationship growth, Sharon's immediate reaction to that possibility more closely resembled anxiety that anticipation.
Andy cupped Sharon's cheek, his sweaty palm only accelerating Sharon's pulse. "I didn't mean to scare you." The urgency in his tone had faded, replaced by the soft voice Sharon only recently learned that he reserved for when they were safely tucked in bed, hidden from the world of responsibilities that awaited them as soon as they left the room. "I, uh, wanted to wait to give you this until later because I didn't want to gross the kid out if you love it or let him embarrass me if you hate it."
Sharon's laughter provided an outlet for the tension accumulating in her chest. But that was their life. She worried, Andy made her laugh.
"The gifts I gave you today were things I knew you'd like," Andy said, encouraged by Sharon's nod. "But, uh, we've had a hell of a few months, and tonight wasn't exactly how I wanted our first Christmas to end, after all we've been through."
Sharon hummed and she fondled the hair at the nape of his neck. "The night is young."
The hint that had flown over Andy's head earlier landed with a vengeance. "Give me a minute, and we'll get to that." He kissed her neck, and Sharon resisted the urge to show him his present so that he would forget about hers. However, after a solitary nibble on her ear, Andy reestablished the safe distance they previously enjoyed. "You were right. Tonight was hard for me, but I've dealt with nights like these, you know, on my own. You… make everything easier. You make me feel… like I deserve to be happy even though I put people I love through hell."
Sharon swiped at stray tear before taking Andy's face in her hands. "That's because you do deserve to be happy," she whispered. Once again, she longed for Andy to see all the good in him, the loyalty, the commitment, the love.
Andy shook his head even when Sharon tightened her hold on his cheeks. "All I know is, whether I deserve it or not, you make me happy. I want to make sure that you know how much you mean to me."
Since Sharon read those three words on a yellow legal pad merely a month prior, they had exchanged the sentiment only a handful of times. At this point in their relationship, hearing those words still made her feel like an idealistic adolescent. The idea that her wild affection for Andy could blind her to a horrible mistake was both exhilarating and terrifying. But right now, three eggnogs into Christmas night, caressing the cheeks of the love of her life, she couldn't think of any mistake worth fixing alone.
Still, she had to ask. "And you feel like you need to buy expensive jewelry to show me you love me?"
Andy leaned forward and nosed her hair aside. "No, but I want to," he murmured in her ear. "You deserve everything." Only when he backed away did Sharon notice the flush of his cheeks.
"I didn't mean to embarrass you," Sharon cooed, rubbing his thigh. "I just can't—" What? Can't rid her heart of all the damage from her first marriage? Can't shake the memories of extravagant gifts or dinners or money thrown at her to smooth over a costly mistake? Can't escape the truth that she fell for it over and over again?
"I know," Andy murmured.
Sharon peered up at him through the tendrils of hair framing her face. Andy had been her partner for so long that she hardly remembered not trusting him. Because of that faith, his promise of devotion was almost more precious to her than his love. "Do I get to open it?" She giggled and rubbed her nose against his when she felt the box slide into her palm. Underneath the silk and robin's egg blue lay a diamond studded pendant made of two infinity symbols, one thinner than the other, both joined by an emerald at the cradle of their curves.
"Andy," Sharon whispered, her eyes flickering between the necklace and her boyfriend's expectant face.
Relieved to hear her speak, Andy jumped at the opportunity to add, "It's engraved. On the back."
Sharon wistfully shook her head and turned the pendant over in her palm. Though the resemblance the Andy that Sandra remembered—livid, drunk, and spiteful— would always linger, that Andy was hard for Sharon to imagine in the face of the timid, selfless, and generous man next to her.
Sharon squinted at the tiny lettering for a few seconds before Andy offered her the glasses she'd mistakenly left on his nightstand. "M'aingeal?"
Andy cleared his throat, and Sharon marveled that he could still have any doubt of his success. "It's Gaelic."
Sharon rubbed her sternum, as if the necklace was missing before she'd ever worn it. "My angel." When Andy nodded sheepishly and offered her a shy quirk of his lips, Sharon handed him the box, turned around, and pulled her hair up. "Put it on for me?"
Andy fought the tiny clasp but fastened wrapped the silver chain around her neck, where his lingering fingertips spawned goosebumps on her skin. "There."
Sharon snaked her arms around Andy's neck and pecked his lips. "I love it," she whispered against his lips, moist with her tears. "I love you." She wanted to reiterate her earlier point—that she knew he loved and cherished her before the expensive purchase—but when his hand skimmed the side of her breast through her robe, she remembered her own expensive purchase.
Andy chuckled when Sharon straddled him and tugged at the sash on her robe. Sharon had missed the anticipation and the laughter almost as much as the sex.
Almost.
"Do I get to open my gift now?" Andy teased, leaning back on his hands to watch her struggle.
Sharon nipped the smirk off of Andy's lips and shrugged out of her robe. When Andy's jaw nearly bounced off her thighs, she knew she'd won. "It's not engraved, but I think I did okay, don't you?" she purred.
Andy skimmed his fingertips up the crimson silk only partially covering her back. "I don't know," he teased, eyes irresistibly drawn to her breasts. "I got you something sparkly."
Sharon retaliated with a roll of her hips. "If you work hard enough, I'll glisten." Only half a squeal escaped before Andy cupped a hand over her mouth during their tumble onto the bed.
"Not a total loss for our first Christmas, huh?" Andy stretched the whole length of his body along Sharon's.
Sharon raked her nails through Andy's hair when he buried his face in her cleavage. "No, no. I'd say we're approaching a perfect ending."