I own nothing of Major Crimes. I only borrow the characters from time to time.
Everyday Angels
Sharon adjusted the last strand of lights on the Christmas tree. The angels usually adorning its branches were left in an unopened box next to the front door. She took a deep breath as she looked around the room. This was the new normal this year.
Sadly, her two older children wouldn't be coming home for the holiday. She was looking forward to spending the time with Rusty and this year Andy would be joining them in a capacity other than a Lieutenant or friend.
The silence in the room grew deafening. Whatever was going on between the two most present males in her life, it was creating an uneasy peace. Sharon dreamt of a Christmas of family and fun. Holidays bring a closeness and joy that is not as attainable on a regular day, or so she hoped.
"I'll be right back," she said, putting on her jacket. "I need to find an angel."
Rusty's head immediately shot up from behind his computer screen. "So what do you call the box I lugged up here?"
Sharon smiled. "Oh, you can never have too many angels."
Andy looked up from the book he was reading. "Do you want me to go with you?"
She picked up her keys, "I won't be long, besides you look comfortable there." She paused at the door, "does anyone need anything while I'm out?"
Without looking up, both shook their heads no. "Be careful" Andy added as she shut the door behind her.
She leaned against the door. "I need an angel. I don't know how to fix this." She whispered.
Inside the condo, Andy put down his book and ran his fingers through his hair. "Should we help decorate?"
He scooted the box of angels closer to the tree and looked for a reaction from Rusty. A shrug was all he got.
"So, kid, you've been around longer than me," Andy began but was interrupted by "exactly," from behind the computer screen.
"That's why I'm asking you," Andy continued, hiding his irritation, "does she have any particular way she puts these on the tree?"
"She's pretty picky, but I'm sure anything YOU do will be fine," Rusty replied.
Andy laughed as he remembered the early days of his encounters with Captain Raydor, "Trust me, hardly anything I do will be fine, but I'm willing to risk it."
Andy sorted through the box of angels, admiring some of the more exquisite pieces and wondering why she kept some of the others.
"Hey, careful with that," Rusty exclaimed as he flew around the table. "Sharon's grandmother brought that from Ireland."
Andy froze, "so you know the story behind all of these?"
Rusty carefully removed the angel from Andy's hand and placed it gently on the floor next to the tree. "I know some of them," he shrugged.
He held up some handmade angels, not of the elegant masterpiece kind, but of the child in kindergarten kind. "Ricky & Emily's handiwork," Rusty explained, "and she'd have your ass if anything happened to them too."
"This one was from her mom, this one from her sister, Claire." Rusty said.
"Hmm, Claire, is that the one that drives Sharon crazy?" Andy asked.
"One in the same." Rusty answered, "I've met her once and have no idea how they swam in the same gene pool."
Andy laughed and shook his head.
Rusty pointed to the angel on the shelf by the television. "That one, she never puts away. I have no idea why."
Andy remembered gently wrapping the angel in tissue paper, placing it in a green box, and securing it with a ribbon and bow. His stomach was in knots when he secretly placed it among the houses of her Christmas village at the office party last year.
"I take it you know why." Rusty said, curiosity getting the best of him.
"I knew she liked angels, and well…" Andy said.
"And you got it for her. "Rusty finished the thought, "hmm, that was a year ago."
Andy raised his brows, "so… what does that mean?"
Rusty shuffled through the box without looking up, "so you've had this thing for her for a while."
Andy wasn't sure how to answer, so he answered the only way he knew how, "yes… for quite a long while."
Sharon decided to forgo a car ride in exchange for some fresh air. The night had a decided bite to the wind, but she didn't mind. As the wind whipped her hair, she gave up trying to smooth it into place. Surprisingly, there was something freeing in letting the wind take it where it may. Silent Night wafted onto the street from the coffee shop on the corner. The store windows were decorated in holiday splendor. The twinkling of the lights reflected onto the sidewalk in front of her. Remembering holidays spent in Park City, she missed the snow glittering under a full moon. She always missed the warmth of family that went with it.
The chill got the best of her as she hurried into the coffee shop. She took a seat near the window. She wanted to take in the beauty of the season and watch the people as they hurried about with their Christmas lists in hand.
She was sipping her tea and witnessing a total melt down of a toddler, unaware she had a guest at her table.
"That's a fun age," he said with a glimmer of a smile.
Sharon jumped at the gruff voice across from her. "I guess it could be," she laughed uneasily.
"Hope you don't mind, there's no seats and my weary legs need a rest," he leaned in and whispered, "I'm not as young as I used to be."
Sharon sighed, "none of us are."
"Harold," he said extending his hand across the table.
She took his hand, "Sharon."
"That was my second ex -wife's name." he mused, "but you're much prettier."
"Uh, the ex-wife thing, I think I've heard that before," she said with a slight grimace.
"Just joking," he laughed, "about the ex-wife part, not the pretty part."
She noticed the mischievous glimmer in his blue eyes. His white hair was pulled back into a short pony tail. His Dodger's baseball cap was sitting on the chair next to him. Something about him felt familiar.
"I'm guessing you're not from around here," she said.
"Am I that obvious, or are you that good?" He replied.
Sharon nearly snort laughed her tea. "Oh, I'm that good."
He rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward. "If you're so good, then tell me my story."
Sharon sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. "You are here visiting family for the holidays. Your sister, Edna from Arizona brought another fruit cake that you mistakenly gave to the dog as a chew bone. The dog is at the vet's office and is expected to recover. They have sent you off the deep end and you must escape to save your sanity. You fled to the coffee shop, thinking they will never find you here since you don't drink coffee."
"You're good. You should do this for a living." He let out a hearty laugh. "My turn."
She nodded, "go for it."
"Under a hard exterior lives a gentle soul and a kind heart that just wants two people she loves to get along" He raised a brow, "how am I doing?"
The din of the coffee shop faded away under the increasing sound of her heartbeat.
"I take it I'm that good too." He winked. Motioning the waitress over, he ordered refills on their drinks, "and bring this lovely lady some pie. She looks like she needs pie."
"I… I don't need pie," she stammered, "how did you.."
"Don't argue with the pie, or I'll have them put ice cream on it too, just to spite you."
Sharon wanted to cry. She wanted to let every pent up emotion spill across the table, and deep down, she knew she wanted pie.
Back at the condo, Andy and Rusty stood back and admired their handiwork. "Do you think it'll pass inspection?" Andy asked.
"I think we did an excellent job." Rusty replied, "and if she doesn't think so, it's all on you."
"Thanks, kid." Andy shrugged, "so much for partners in crime."
"You know I'm just looking out for her," Rusty said as he gathered up the boxes. "I don't want to see anyone hurt her again."
Andy nodded, "and I'm looking out for the both of you."
"Decorating sure works up an appetite," Rusty said as he headed for the kitchen. "I think Sharon got you some of that tofurkey, sawdust cakes, or whatever."
"How about some popcorn and chocolate fudge?" Andy suggested. "My favorites growing up."
Rusty gave him a warning glance.
"Hey, if I'm getting in trouble, it may as well be go big or go home." Andy laughed. "Though, I hope not on the last part."
Harold watched Sharon scrape the last bit of cherry pie from the blue china plate in front of her. "Feeling better?" he asked.
"Yes, I think so," she smiled. "But how did you know…?"
"Sharon, not every battle is yours to fight, not every broken thing is yours to fix." Harold patted her hand, "sometimes, all you need is a coffee shop with Christmas music, a weary stranger, and pie. Always pie."
He looked at his watch, "good heavens, I'd better be going. Those crazy relatives will be calling the LAPD out to search for me."
Sharon laughed at the thought. Harold gave her a sly smile as he picked up the bill, "there, you've got your sparkle back." He put on his Dodger's cap and gave her a hug. "Merry Christmas." He said as he turned away.
She noticed a small package on the seat where his cap had been. She looked around the shop, but he was gone. Quickly, she grabbed her coat and ran outside with the gift bag. It was late and the street was nearly deserted. She left her card with the cashier in case the man came back looking for it.
The smell of popcorn and chocolate drifted into the hallway of her condo. She reached for the door knob, but stopped to listen at the door. Voices, she heard voices…and laughing. She was greeted by a fully decorated tree and the sight of Andy and Rusty in the kitchen making what seemed like a delicious mess. "All I Want for Christmas is You" was playing on the radio.
"You found your angel?" Andy asked, noticing the gift bag in her hand.
"Oh," she hesitated, "I think I did."
She opened the bag. Inside was a small figurine. It looked like a gruff old man with angel wings. Andy laughed, "Interesting choice." He took it out of her hand and set it on the counter. He twirled her around as they danced to the music. "The only angel I need is you," he whispered.
Rusty set the popcorn and fudge on the dining room table and turned to inspect the newest angel. "I've never seen an angel holding a pie," he shrugged.
As they slowly spun around again, Andy pulled her in close. Sharon looked over Andy's shoulder at the small porcelain figure. A smile, with a meaning known only to her, drifted across her lips as she settled snugly into Andy's arms.
