Holiday Heart

by Kadi

Rated: M

Disclaimer: Not my sandbox, just my favorite place to play.

A/N: As always, special thank you to deenikn8 the awesome beta! Any mistakes found are all mine! For kate04us, lontanissima, and sorynliv, who wanted a little spice in the sugar. I did my best!

Note: Please heed the warning. There is no fade to black in Chapter 3.


Chapter 1

Her head was on her desk when he entered her office. "Sharon?" The groan made him smile, but it was unlike her enough that he moved to the desk. He leaned over its front and spoke again. This time in a much softer voice. "Sharon?"

Her head lifted. She sighed. There was a small but rueful smile curving her lips. "I love my daughter but she can be entirely too much like me at times."

His brow arched. He remained where he was, leaning over the desk. "What happened?"

"Jack." One word, just a name, and the sigh that accompanied it held so much meaning. It conveyed her frustration and her discomfort. "She asked him to dinner. She couldn't stand the thought of his being alone at Christmas." Sharon clasped her hands against the top of her desk. "Never mind that his being alone is no one's fault but his own."

Andy chuckled. He shook his head as he leaned back. He lowered himself into the chair in front of her desk. "The difference is, you had no intention of inviting him to dinner."

"No." She smiled. "I really didn't. The very nice judge that finalized our divorce did a very good job of ensuring that I would never have to do that again." She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "Is it horribly selfish that I don't want to do it now?"

"Have a dinner where your dirtbag ex-husband is going to do everything in his power to make himself look like the injured and abandoned party, while also making you feel guilty about the fact that you finally cut his sorry ass loose?" Andy's head inclined. His lips pursed. He seemed to ponder it for a moment. Then he shrugged. "No, I can't think of a reason why you'd want to do it. Frankly, if you did, I'd be a little worried. It would be taking the Catholic guilt a little too far, even for you."

"I can't exactly not be there." Sharon had her hands clasped in her lap. Her shoulders were still slumped. She was thinking through the problem, trying to find a solution that would be equitable for all of them. She was coming up short. "I mean, it is my house, and Rusty is going to be there." Her lips turned down into a small pout. "It's the first year we've all been together, and now he's really mine." She spoke a bit plaintively, her voice hitching upward a bit. "Jack knows that. Of course he knows that. He has to know that. Oh that man." Her head lowered again, back onto the desk. That was a nice place for it, the cool surface felt good against the headache that was building. "This is all my fault," she moaned. The sound was muffled against her desk.

Andy looked heavenward. He shook his head and tried to suppress the urge to grin. Cue the catholic guilt. He drummed his fingers against the arm rests of his chair while the other hand lifted. He rubbed a finger against his top lip. There was very little that could reduce Sharon to this level. Her children were at the top of that list. Right below that was her ex-husband. This was a side of her that few people ever saw. She was just a woman who could still be rattled by the man she was married to for more than thirty years, even when twenty of it was spent in separation. A man who was honing in on the holiday she had been looking forward to for weeks. The closer they got to Christmas, the giddier that Sharon became. It was more than amusing to watch. It was downright adorable.

He didn't know that he wanted to tell her that, however. They weren't completely back to the same level of comfort they shared before Nicole's visit. Only a couple of weeks had passed. After that little misunderstanding, and Rusty's assumptions, oh yeah, and Sharon raking him over the coals for his part in it… well, they were working on it. They were still friends. He counted himself as damned lucky that Sharon was the understanding sort… and that she believed in second chances. He was sorry. He never meant to let it get as far out of control as it had. He always meant to set the record straight. He didn't. That was on him.

Didn't change that they were both left with a lot to think about. That was something else that they were working on. As it turned out, somewhere along the way, they started spending more time together and less time with others. Andy never really thought about it before, it didn't seem odd to him that anytime someone told him to bring a friend that Sharon was the first person he thought about. It never struck him as odd that when he saw a movie advertised he considered whether or not Sharon would want to see it with him. He liked spending time with her, what was so wrong with that?

Nothing at all, at least according to his daughter and Rusty. Nicole wasn't mad at him, she should be, but she wasn't. Now she thought he was a bumbling idiot that couldn't manage to ask the girl he liked out on a real date. Although, to hear Rusty tell it, they were having several real dates a month. Or so Sharon told him. She was so endearingly embarrassed about that. They hadn't talked about it again, though. They were falling back into familiar routines, and he could deal with that. He liked her. He thought that maybe she liked him.

At their ages this shouldn't be so hard, and yet it was. They were both damaged. For different reasons and in different ways, but there was one thing that they agreed on.

No labels.

What they had worked for them. It was easy and comfortable, or at least it was before Sharon found out how big of an idiot he really was. It could be again. They only had to be patient. If things became more involved between them, then so be it. If not, well, they still enjoyed spending time together, and they were happy to do it.

He watched her now. Head still bent and resting against her desk. He leaned forward in his chair and let his elbows rest against his knees. Maybe he could help her recapture some of the magic of the holiday.

"You know," Andy began, "I hate to disagree with you." When she snorted at him, he grinned. "But I'm going to. The dirtbag, who shall remain nameless," she hummed and added another half-snort that had his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched her, "knew that all he had to do was drop a tiny hint and he'd get the invite he was looking for. The thing is, the kids aren't jumping up and down to invite him anywhere, mainly because they have no reason to believe that he would want to be there or would even show up." He spoke from personal experience, even if the last few years had been better. A lot better. "Now, those kids, they're not going to be openly rude, mainly because their mom… this nice lady I know, happened to raise responsible, respectful adults." Her head lifted and her eyes were sparkling at him. A small smile was tugging at her lips. Andy continued before she could interrupt him. "Enough so that when Jack does finally poke his head out, they're not going to ignore him. Not even if they want to, because they were raised right." His lips pursed. Andy shook his head at her. "Yeah, okay, you were right to begin with. This is all your fault. How dare you." He gestured at her. "What? You couldn't raise self-involved, stuck up delinquents like a lot of the other parents in LA?"

Her lips pursed. Sharon's eyes were lit with amusement. "Okay." A warm smile curved her lips. "Point taken, Andy. Thank you." She paused. "I think." Sharon straightened in her chair. "I just wish that he could have chosen another occasion to decide to assert his paternal existence."

"You mean, besides your favorite holiday, and the first one with all three of your children under the same roof, which just so happens to be the first post divorce holiday?" Andy smirked at her. "Yeah, that's not happening. He's punishing you. In his own crappy and idiotic way. The best thing that you can do is not let him get his way." He shrugged at her. "You've been looking forward to this for a long time. Don't let Jack ruin it for you."

Her gaze dropped to her desk. Sharon's smile softened. She studied the desk calendar for a moment before she looked up at him again. "I thought he was going to remain nameless?" She asked in a quiet voice. Sharon looked away again. "I think I could stand it if I thought he was doing this because he really wants to see the kids. How sad is it that I know otherwise? Sadder still that they do too."

"There's another option," Andy pointed out, although his smile was tinged with sadness. "We could be wrong. He may actually want to see the kids. Divorcing Jack may have actually opened his eyes."

"I would like to believe that." She exhaled quietly. "The truth is, I very much doubt it." Sharon shook her head and sat straighter. "That is neither here nor there. It is what it is. Christmas should prove very interesting this year."

She was tucking it aside, sucking it up. Andy leaned back in his chair. He shook his head at that. She shouldn't have to. She should be allowed to have the holiday that she dreamed about with her kids. All three of them. Instead, Andy had a feeling that Jack would spend that time putting her on the spot, and trying to make Rusty feel like an outsider. He would try again to create a chasm between Rusty and Sharon's older children. Andy frowned. His fingers stroked his jaw while he considered all of it.

"Could you use a buffer?" He shrugged a single shoulder as he asked it. "You know, maybe to keep things from getting out of hand."

"Hm." Sharon smiled. "Actually, that's a wonderful idea." She paused as he began to grin. "But I don't need one that will be throwing punches at my ex-husband two minutes after he arrives. That would defeat the purpose." Sharon gave him a knowing look. "It's not much of a secret that the two of you are not on the best of terms lately." She shook her head at him. "I appreciate the offer, Andy, but I think—"

"Wait." He leaned forward again and held up a hand. "I'm being serious. Think about it, Sharon. The kids are going to be on pins and needles, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Jack is going to be doing the best he can to make himself look good, put you in the negative, and wrap it all up in a little bow that is all Rusty's fault. That's one theory. The other is that he's going to do everything he can to try to give the appearance of a happy little family, and when you shatter that illusion, well, again, you will be the one to blame for that. The best thing that you can do is stop it before he even tries."

Her eyes narrowed. Sharon leaned forward against the desk. This had the potential to either be very good, or one of his insane schemes. Either way, he had her attention. She folded her hands together again. "Alright," she said carefully. "I'm listening. What do you have in mind?"

"Do it at my place." He rubbed his thumb against his forehead and shifted in his seat when her eyes widened. "Think about it for a second before you say no. The condo is familiar territory, and it puts you on your own turf, but it's also familiar turf for Jack. On top of that, you'll be limited on space. You're not going to have a lot of places to escape to. I've got the house, and it's not that big, but it's big enough. If nothing else, Rusty's got the den that he can hide in when Jack gets to be too much for him." He grinned crookedly at her then. "On the plus side, it's my place. I can be a buffer and not fight with the old reprobate. He has no reason to question why I'm there, and if he gets on my nerves, I can ask him to leave."

"Two minutes after he gets there." Sharon leaned back in her chair. He managed to render her mostly speechless. Yes, it was indeed one of his insane ideas. The problem was, with the picture that he painted, she was imagining her condo overrun with people, and Rusty hiding in his room most of the day. She tried to imagine finding a place to escape to, even for a moment, and could clearly see herself being trapped on the balcony… with Jack. It was one of those scenarios where she wasn't sure if she would end up pushing him over or jumping. Sharon chewed on the corner of her bottom lip. Finally she shook her head. "Andy, I can't do that," she said softly. "You should spend the day with your family, not babysitting me and my ex-husband."

"I could." Andy shrugged again. "If they were going to be here. They're going north to see her in-laws. So you see…" He spread his hands wide. "It's do a good deed for a friend, or end up playing buffer for Provenza and the ex… whichever one drew the short straw this year."

She laughed at the devious gleam in his eyes. "That was horrible. You should be ashamed." Sharon folded her arms over her chest. "You call yourself his friend."

"I am his friend." Andy grinned. "That's how I know they draw straws to see who gets him every year. I'm begging you, Sharon… please, don't make me do it again. If he asks, I'll have to say yes, and if I say yes, I'm going to spend all day keeping his ex-wife from strangling him. Don't do this to me." He placed his hand against his heart. "If you care about my wellbeing at all, you will let me host you guys for Christmas." He trailed off and then added, far more genuinely, "besides, consider it a thank you. You've done more than enough for me and my family, and… well, maybe even consider it an apology too. For, you know…" He shrugged awkwardly and looked away.

"Andy you don't have to thank me." She spoke quietly, gently. "As to the other…" Her cheeks colored and she looked down. "We've already discussed it. It's in the past as far as I am concerned. I don't know Andy…" She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth while she studied him. After a moment, her gaze dropped to her desk. "It would be nice to put things back on my terms, but at the same time, I don't want to give everyone the wrong idea."

"You mean the wrong idea that they've already got?" Andy didn't immediately look at her again. He hesitated before lifting his gaze. "Come on, Sharon. Rusty has already spoken to the other two, Ricky at the very least. Jack has been taking pot shots at us for a while now. It doesn't have to mean anything. They're going to think what they want to think. It doesn't matter what we say or do, or what is really going on. Hell, are we really going to have to second guess everything that we do from now on?"

She drew her hands back into her lap and studied the surface of her desk again. "Andy…" She sighed softly. It was a fair question, she couldn't fault him on that. It was exactly what she had done, and had been doing, since the night of the ballet. Even when she said that they should just avoid applying any labels to their relationship, she was doing exactly that. Her gaze dropped even further and Sharon looked at her hands, clasped now in her lap. She picked at her nails. "I would like to think that we could just… be who we are without considering what others think about it. I never realized that anyone would see us as anything more than friends. Or that…" She looked up at him again, suddenly uncertain, "that it would leave us questioning it too?"

He met her gaze. Andy thought about it for a moment. "No." He shook his head slowly. "No, I don't question us. I know who we are. I'm good with where we are. Mainly…" A corner of his mouth quirked upward toward a smile. "I'm just glad that you aren't running away from me anymore."

"Hm." She looked down again, smiling in spite of her uncertainty. "That might have been a little mean." Sharon shrugged. "You deserved it."

"I did." Andy pushed out of his chair. "Look, think about what I said. I'll be around, okay? I'm here if you need me."

Sharon was beginning to wonder if that was a line that he was using on her. It worked, every time, and surely he had to know it, right? Warmth filled her and she smiled affectionately at him. "I'll think about it," she promised. "I'll let you know."

"Okay." He nodded once, he opened his mouth to say more and thought better of it. Instead, Andy showed himself out of her office.

She watched him go. Once she was alone again, she leaned forward and let her forehead rest against the desk again. Sharon groaned. Why was it that, insane as his invitation was, it made her heart flutter and her stomach dance with excitement and anticipation. Just the idea of it brought back some of the holiday magic that Jack's invitation to dinner had chased away. Why did life have to be so complicated?

Why couldn't they go back to being Sharon and Andy, two people so blissfully unaware of the world around them and completely happy to remain that way? No, of course they couldn't go back to that. It was much too late. If she were honest about it, the clock had already been ticking toward this situation, even without Nicole's visit and the reveal of her year long assumptions.

Sharon was tempted to skip Christmas this year. Jump straight to the new year and leave it all behind her. Only there was one little problem with that. She wanted her holiday with her children, and now… now she wanted her holiday with Andy too. He planted the idea in her head and it was taking root in her heart.

It was official. The men in her life were making her crazy.

"I should have listened to my father," she moaned. "I could have been a nun…"

MCMCMCMCMCMC

It was mocking him. The thin, narrow box that sat on his bar. Andy stared at it. He stood in his kitchen, a glass of cranberry and soda in his hand. It was tastefully wrapped, in it's shining blue paper with pretty little silver snow flakes. Even the silver bow was perfectly adorned. He had the salesclerk wrap it for him when he bought it. That happened weeks ago, before Nicole's visit, and now it was just a reminder of how big a fool he was.

He was shopping for the kids when he saw it. The minute he laid eyes on it, Andy knew that Sharon had to have it. He bought it without thinking, and if that wasn't enough, he'd had it engraved. So now he couldn't exactly take it back, but he couldn't give it to her either. Not now. Not when there was so much up in the air between them. Not when it was no longer a simple gift between friends.

It held an entirely new meaning now, and when he thought back on it, it held the same meaning when he bought it. He just didn't realize it. Or if he did, he had it buried so deep that it took his daughter to wring it out of him. Now he didn't know what he would do with it. Toss it into the back of his closet, maybe. Try to forget it. Perhaps he would even save it for another time, another occasion. Whatever he did, Andy couldn't bring himself to touch it again.

So he stared at it instead, and it mocked him with its very existence.

The knock on his door was his only reprieve. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but it pulled him out of his kitchen, and out of sight, he could pretend that it no longer existed. At least until he was alone again, to be once again taunted by a gift that could never be given.

Andy set his glass on a counter as he strode through the house. It wasn't a large structure, as he'd told Sharon. It was a split-level ranch that he bought at auction years before, back when he still had hope that someday he might be that dad whose kids visited him on the weekends. He thought about selling it a number of times, as that never really worked out for him, but he couldn't part with it. The hope of it, rather than the house, that was what he had held on to. So here he was, in a not overly large three bedroom home, with two levels, an old man with nothing to show for himself but a couple of sparsely decorated spare rooms, a formal dining room that had never been used, and a den that he sometimes liked to call his office. At least, he did when he paid bills there. The rest of the time he hardly used more than the living room, kitchen, and his own bed and bath. Oh, and the laundry room. He used that. If he hadn't gotten it so damned cheap, Andy never would have bought it at all.

Truth was, it was seized in a drug raid. Best damned thing he ever got out of Narcotics. Or it would have been, if he wasn't so alone. Now, with his relationship with Nicole improving, the hope was back. He thought maybe the spare rooms would be good for her boys, and any other grandkids that came along. He was even thinking about tossing a swing set out in the back yard.

Andy was thinking about a lot of things, but only time would tell if any of them would ever happen or not. He was a bit of a pessimist when it came to his own life, or at least he used to be. There was a brief period of time, most recently, when he started to think it couldn't be half bad. Now he was back to taking everything with a grain of salt.

The blue and silver wrapped gift on his bar was enough to remind him to not get excited about anything.

He pulled the door open and started a bit. He was expecting Provenza. That was usually how his luck went. Andy didn't know what to think about finding Sharon on the other side of his door. He stared at her. She looked casual and comfortable in her jeans and cream colored sweater. This was not an official visit at least. He stepped back a bit and pulled the door wider. All without saying a word.

Andy shook his head as she stepped into his house. He studied her, fidgeting in front of him, toying with the cuffs of her camel colored leather jacket. Finally he shoved his hands into his pockets and tilted his head at her. "Sharon?"

She was beginning to think that coming there was a bad idea, but she refused to lose her resolve. Sharon saw the confusion written clearly across his face. The way that they had left things in her office the day before, she knew that he hadn't expected to see her again before the end of their holiday leave. When she said goodbye to him later that afternoon, she was barely able to look at him. It was no fault of his. It was her own mind playing with ideas that it shouldn't. Ideas that everyone else in their lives seemed to have already accepted. So why then was she running from them?

Jack. He was the reason behind a lot of things in her life. She knew exactly why she was hiding from Andy, why she was so reluctant to believe that they could be more than friends. Why she couldn't see what was right in front of her as it developed. She wasn't afraid of opening her heart, but she was reluctant. They were so very alike, these two men. They were also very different. It was those differences which drew her to Andy. The same differences which sent her running from Jack.

It wasn't fair. That was the thought that Sharon finally arrived at earlier that day. She wasn't being fair. She asked him not to put labels on them. She asked him to be patient. He never asked anything of her in return. Not in so many ways. Yes, he could be a complete and total idiot, specifically when it came to personal relationships, but when Sharon got down to the heart of it all, she didn't feel manipulated with him. That was a feeling that she knew all too well. Jack had manipulated her a number of times over the years, just as he was attempting to manipulate her and the children now.

However Andy might have used her recently, it wasn't out of malice. She still believed that. The man couldn't hide from her. He could try, but it was there in his eyes. In that damned sheepish, almost boyish grin of his. She had already forgiven him for it. Underneath it all, she still believed that he was a good man, a good father. He only needed the opportunity to see it for himself. He was trying. That was more than she could say for Jack.

Her ex-husband asked her to speak to their daughter on his behalf. Andy used her, however unintentionally, so that he could speak to his daughter on his own behalf. That was a huge difference as far as she was concerned.

At some point during her very long separation from Jack she closed that part of her heart. It seemed the safest option. Now it was time to open it again, but she had to tread carefully. Sharon didn't want to lose the friendship that they'd built during the past year. She didn't want to jeopardize their careers, and she certainly didn't want this effecting the rest of the team.

Then Rusty pointed out something she hadn't thought about. They had been seeing each other for a year and it hadn't effected anyone yet. Well, no one but the constantly cantankerous Lieutenant Provenza. He objected on principle. Sharon was wondering if they could work around that. That was… if she wasn't completely off-base and out of her mind for thinking about it at all.

She took a breath and let it out slowly. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah." Andy jerked his head back toward the living room. "Come on in." He led the way, reminded that she had never been there before. "Um… can I get you something? Coffee? There's soda I think." She seemed pensive. Andy didn't want to think about what that meant.

"Coffee would be wonderful," she told him. Sharon rubbed her hands together as she followed him. She shrugged out of her jacket as they reached his living room and draped it over the back of the sofa. Then she followed him into the kitchen. She didn't want to linger. She was worried she would change her mind if she did. "I'm sorry for dropping by unannounced. I told you that I would think about your offer."

"Oh, yeah…" He played it off as nonchalant. As if he hadn't even thought about it again. He had. Andy had been kicking himself ever since. He was no better than Jack, really, putting her on the spot like that. Andy glanced at her as he moved to the coffee maker. He took a package of a rich, dark roast out of the fridge and started setting the thing up to brew. "So what did you decide to do?"

"I think it depends." Sharon leaned against the bar. "That's why I wanted to talk to you." She looked at her hands. "Andy, I think I made a mistake." Her nail traced the pattern of the dark granite surface. "I should never have asked you to just… well, basically forget about the things that Nicole and Rusty brought up a few weeks ago. Now I'm realizing that it wasn't very kind either."

He stopped where he was for a moment. His finger was poised over the coffee maker's start button. Andy's jaw clenched. He shook his head and pressed it. When he turned, he found her looking down. There was a sadness in her face that made him sigh. He walked over and leaned against the bar opposite her. "You know, Sharon, you're taking a lot on yourself these days. Did it ever occur to you that maybe I was happy to not think about it again?" He shrugged. "I don't understand why it has to be a thing. We like hanging out. It doesn't have to be more than that."

"What if it already is?" Sharon shifted where she stood and looked up at him. "Andy, whatever we're doing, I think it stopped being a simple case of hanging out a while ago. If not, then why are we both feeling so awkward about it? I have other male friends, and I've never felt odd about the amount of time that I spend with them, and yes, I'm talking about others besides Gavin." She looked down again, this time she sighed. "My children all have a very high opinion of me, or they're very happy living in the dark, but I can tell you that I didn't spend twenty years worth of legal separation living a completely lonely life." Her cheeks colored as she spoke, but it was worth putting out there. "I've never felt awkward about that either. Suddenly, instead of being able to laugh about all of the assumptions that are being tossed our way, with the person who is, lately, quite probably my best friend, all that I want to do is hide from it and there has to be a reason for that." Sharon closed her eyes, because if she didn't get it all out, she wouldn't. "I don't think that has anything at all to do with you or I, but everything to do with us. While you are so beautifully, wonderfully capable of playing dumb, you aren't an idiot, Andy. I think you know all of this too."

He stared at the top of her head. When she looked up at him, finally, he saw the emotions at play in her eyes. There was sadness and confusion, but he thought he saw a little bit of hope too. There was something else there, too. Something he couldn't quite define. Something that he felt echo through him, causing his heart to beat a little faster. Andy gripped the edge of the granite counter. What could he tell her? What could he say that could make this situation better for both of them. Why did it have to be hard? Or maybe the fact that it was hard was the point. Was that what she was saying to him? The difficulty they were both having with this situation had to have some other basis than their embarrassment and a need to get back to the way that things were before.

Before.

Andy's gaze was drawn to the blue and silver wrapped package. If they went back to the way things used to be between them, then the only thing they were really wiping away was their inability to see it. "Yeah," he said roughly. "I think maybe I do." His hand snaked out and he slid the package over. He pushed it toward her. "I got this a while ago. Before the whole, damned, ballet thing. I've been trying to figure out why. I couldn't take it back, and I wasn't going to give it to you. Not now. I don't know, you could be right. There's a possibility we both know what is going on, and why we can't just say it and be done with it…" Andy shrugged. "I don't know. Hell, that's a lie." Andy ran a hand through his hair. "I've thought about it. Of course I have. Dammit, no man in his right mind could look at you and not think about it, Sharon. I'm not blind, but you're you, and I'm me, and it was never going to happen. I know that. If that's what you're worried about—"

"It's not." She lifted the box and turned it over in her hand. It was small and narrow, and the shape, well it was a bit telling. That he came to some realization that maybe she shouldn't have it… well, that confirmed her suspicions. He bought it, though, even having already realized that he would like to be with her and couldn't, he still got it for her. Then he put all of that aside and became the friend that she needed him to be. That both of them needed, if they were honest. "I've never had cause to question your motives. I'm not questioning them now," she told him. "I think I'd like to hear why you thought it would never happen," She asked gently. Sharon looked up at him through her lashes and offered a small smile. "Am I so unattainable?"

"No." He barked a short laugh. Andy looked down at her, then at the surface of the bar. "Sharon, I'm not going to kid either one of us here. I'm just a broken down old drunk. I'm really no better than—"

"Don't." She reached out and covered his hand with hers. "Don't say that." Sharon shook her head at him. "Andy, I've never thought that. I have certainly never compared you to Jack, at least not in the way that you're comparing yourself. Andy." His name left her lips on a sigh. "When I see you, I see what could have been. He never tried. You try every day. Even when you don't succeed, and even when you make mistakes, or are at your most charmingly idiotic, I know that you're trying to be better than you were. Your past is… well, it's past. It's who you are now that matters to me."

His eyes lowered to their hands. He turned his over beneath hers and let his fingers curl around the thin, delicate digits. It blew his mind, the way that she viewed him. More than that, it blew his mind that he had once thought her cold. He couldn't recall, in recent memory, having met a warmer woman. Or one so capable of caring for those around her. It was just a matter of getting past her armor to the heart beneath. "Before I go out on an even bigger limb," Andy said quietly, voice rumbling in the silent kitchen, "I think maybe that you should open that." He heard the click of the coffee maker, and as much as he hated the idea, he pulled away from her. Andy turned and walked back to it. He couldn't watch her open it, not with what he thought might be on the table in front of them right now. There was a world of possibility there, but it could also be a door that could be slammed firmly closed. He busied himself with taking down two mugs and filling both of them with the dark, fragrant liquid.

Sharon watched his back for a moment. She held the gentle weight of the gift in her hands. Her eyes lowered and she drew a thin breath. She let it out slowly and hesitated, only for a moment, before she slipped her thumb nail along the seam of the paper. She folded the paper carefully back and found a narrow, velvet box within. Sharon drew the corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. She turned it around in her hands a few times and even glanced at Andy before finally she opened it.

"Oh."

All of the air left her lungs in a rush. Nestled inside a bed of soft material was a gleaming chain of platinum. Sharon lifted it out of the box. A heart-shaped, sideways pendant dangled from it. At the center, was a single, sparkling amethyst. The pendant gleamed in smooth platinum to one side of the heart, the other was lined with glittering diamonds. She fingered it carefully, and as she turned it over in her hand, she realized why he couldn't take it back. He'd had it engraved. Moisture filled her eyes as she read it. It took both sides of the heart to make the inscription whole.

With you I found peace

The amethyst, a beautiful purple jewel, but once believed by healers to bring peace and positive healing to all that wore it.

Sharon clasped the necklace in her hand and closed her eyes. There was a wealth of emotion in those words. She let it sweep over her. It startled her, the warmth that accompanied it. She forced her eyes open again and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear as she rounded the bar. She stepped into the kitchen and studied him. He stood with his back to her, and by now he'd had plenty of time to pour their coffee. He was leaning against the counter, hands braced against its edge. "Andy." Her voice hitched, thick and low with emotion. When he didn't turn, she walked slowly toward him.

He could feel the tremble in her fingers when she lay them against his back. His eyes were closed. Andy took a deep breath. He straightened and slowly turned. "I saw it and thought of you," he explained. "I didn't really think beyond the moment. What's new, right?" He shook his head, looked away. "It wasn't until after the ballet that I realized how it might look. What it might mean. It's true, but it doesn't have to mean anything. It can just…"

The tips of her fingers settled against his jaw. She drew his gaze to hers. "Or it could mean everything." Her brows lifted in askance as she studied him. Sharon drew her bottom lip between her teeth again and shook her head. "Did everyone see it but us? Or did we simply deny the obvious because we're both reluctant to lose what we have now in favor of something that…" She shrugged, unable to really find the words for it. "You mean a lot to me," Sharon said quietly. "More, I think, than I imagined or intended." Her gaze lowered to the necklace still clasped in her hand. Her fingers opened and she studied it. "So did I," she whispered, "and I don't want to lose that."

Andy reached for the necklace. He lifted it out of her hand. It dangled in front of them for a moment, gleaming in the overhead lights. The jewels sparkled in the light. He was careful as he opened the clasp. Andy took a step closer to her. His hands slipped beneath her hair. His eyes never left hers as he fastened it around her neck. He watched them darken, felt the tremor that ran through her. After the necklace fell into place around her neck, his hands moved into her hair. He cupped her head, tipped it back. His thumbs stroked the line of her jaw, the curves of her cheeks. Finally, one of them swept her reddened, full bottom lip. When she drew a breath, thin and shuddering and her gaze dropped, just for a moment, Andy felt an answering tremor move through him.

"I've screwed up every relationship I've ever had," he said quietly. "I almost screwed up this one. I don't want to lose you."

Her hands lifted. They circled his wrists. Her thumbs stroked gently, the smooth skin beneath the gold chain that he wore on his right. Her heart pounded out a hard, fast rhythm within her chest. She moved closer to him, and realized as she did, that it was excitement dancing in her stomach, rather than anxiety. If her breath came in quick, nervous puffs, but it was anticipation driving the currents running through her at present. She wanted him to kiss her. It was something she thought about before. Of course she had, she wasn't a fool. He was an attractive man. He was funny and kind. He was good to her, and more than anything else, it wasn't only friendship that she felt for him. She didn't know when that shift came, but it had. Now they could walk away from it, or they could embrace it.

Sharon lifted toward him, slowly, and without allowing her gaze to waver. "You aren't going to lose me." That wasn't necessarily true, life was finite. But in that moment, in the way that he meant, she wasn't going anywhere. "I was wrong," she murmured, "we can't go back. Andy, I don't want to."

His head bent. They hovered there for a moment. This close to her, he could see the gold flecks that lit her eyes, that always seems to make the green shine a little brighter. When he thought of this moment, he couldn't imagine what it would really feel like to have her this close to him. He swallowed hard, past a suddenly dry throat. His eyes closed as he inhaled. He could smell the faint gardenia scent of her shampoo, and the way it mingled with the softly scented perfume that she wore. His nose nuzzled her cheek. Andy felt her lips curve as his brushed against them. It lingered there, barely a caress at all. When she hummed, and moved against him, increasing the pressure of the kiss, Andy let his hands drop. His arms wrapped around her and he gathered her close.

His mouth angled over hers, even as her arms slid around his waist. Her hands slid up his back to grip the backs of his shoulders. Sharon melted against him. A soft, low sound rumbled in her throat at the first brush of his tongue against her bottom lip. Heat moved through her. As the kiss slowly deepened, unhurried and lingering, her hands wandered the length of his back. When at last they broke apart, she turned her face into his neck, while he continued to hold her. This was what she worried would come between them. Instead, it was heat and emotion, hope, and possibility. When she felt his hands slide into her hair again, Sharon tipped her head back. She looked up at him, lips swollen and eyes lidded. She saw the question in his dark eyes. Her lips curved slowly upward into a soft smile. She tipped her face toward him and let her lips brush his again, gently, softly. "Hi," she whispered. They had spent countless hours together, evenings and afternoons, and oddly, she felt as if she had finally found him.

"Hi." His thumb stroked the curve of her lips again. He smiled down at her. His dark eyes sparkled. His head lowered again, this time so that their foreheads touched. "How about that coffee?"

She laughed, the sound low and lilting. "That might be a good idea." Sharon didn't immediately move away from him, though. She stepped closer, tucked herself against his chest and turned her face into his neck again. She inhaled deeply, let it move through her. A sense of peace settled over her again, as though this was exactly where they had always meant to end up, and all they had needed was time. She smiled as that thought occurred to her. They were not oblivious. They were not hiding. They were simply finding their own way. It felt good. It felt right.

"Yeah." His hands moved slowly up and down her back. "So we should do that." Andy turned his lips into her hair. "Sharon, I'm serious."

She lifted her head and looked at him. The intensity in his gaze sent a spark of excitement coursing through her. "Really?" Her brows lifted. Her lips curved into a small, teasing smile.

His jaw clenched. "If I don't get my hands off you for a while, I'm not going to be able to. That's not what you want right now." He wanted her, had for a while, but didn't want to push her too far, too fast.

"Hm." She hummed quietly. She told him that she had not lived the life of a nun, and she meant it. "And what if I don't want your hands off me?" There was a challenge in her gaze. Sharon took a step back and let her gaze sweep over him. Sharon took his hand and gave it a tug as she turned. When he didn't immediately budge, she cast a look at him over her shoulder. "Andy, I'm sure."

It was all that he needed, to know that this wasn't a knee-jerk reaction to weeks of questions and uncertainty. He pulled her back to him. His other arm slid around her waist, while their hands remained joined. His mouth caught hers again, the kiss far more insistent, with none of the sweet and lingering heat of earlier. He walked her backwards, while their mouths were still joined, out of his kitchen and toward the stairs that led to the second level of the house. Only there did they part, breaths mingled, eyes alight with need and desire. With her hand still clasped tightly in his, they started up the stairs.

She leaned into his side as they went. They were making a conscious choice, one not entirely buried in need and want. That was there, certainly, thrumming between both of them. There was an air of anticipation on the air, heated and electric. Her shoulder bumped against his as they topped the stairs. He looked down at her, eyes dark, and found the answering spark in her gaze. His thumb brushed the top of her hand as he drew her with him. His hands itched to touch her.

A smile. It curved her lips when they reached his room. They hesitated there, just for a moment. They were crossing a line. She stepped over it first, backed into his room and gave his hand a gentle tug. Andy stepped inside and pushed the door closed behind him. He was closing out the world. Now it was just them, the two of them, just as it had been since the start. They had been left to question who and what they were. The answer was simple. It was just Sharon and Andy, and a relationship that was only theirs to understand or define.

Some time later, only a single lamp lit the room. In the soft light, the smooth paleness of her skin seemed to glow. She lay on her stomach beside him, arms folded beneath her and a sheet bunched around her hips. The rest of the bedding had been lost to the floor. The hour had grown late. Or early, as the case may be. They had talked, and they had laughed, and now they lay watching one another. She smiled when his hand moved slowly upward, tracing the curve of her spine. The leg that was curled around his slid higher. When her knee brushed against him, drawing a hiss, she smirked.

His hand moved higher, beneath the curtain of her hair. His fingers traced the chain of the necklace. He hated to break the silence that settled over them. It was comfortable, serene. They had talked about a number of things already. How this relationship began, where it was going. They decided that they had not missed the obvious. They were simply content in one another. When provoked to thoughts of their current state, and left to analyze previous encounters and feelings, they thought that they might have arrived here on their own. They had already known that they held the other as important, there was simply no rush to catalogue those feelings. Not until they were pointed out by others.

That was the source of their discomfiture. They were not ready to acknowledge what lay before them. Now that they had, it seemed only natural to continue moving forward. Laying with Sharon in his bed might have been awkward, only their relationship seemed to make that leap before their minds, and while he lay holding her in those first moments, he was struck with how natural it felt.

That was a few hours ago.

Now he lay, head propped in his hand, quietly watching.

"When do the kids arrive?" In the quiet of the room, his voice was thick and deep.

Sharon hummed. She turned her face further into the pillow and let her eyes close. "Emily's flight will get here at noon. Ricky is arriving at two. She will have time to get a rental and pick up her bags before his flight arrives. With traffic, they should reach the condo between four and five. We'll have dinner, and then we'll discuss the subject of Christmas." Sharon sighed at the thought. "We have a couple of days to figure something out. It won't be an issue. Jack will be Jack and I will ignore him."

"Hm." Andy leaned over and pushed her hair aside. His lips brushed her shoulder. "So then, what time can I expect you here?" His lips curved against her skin.

She laughed. "It would serve you right if I agreed." Sharon opened her eyes and looked at him. "No, I can't. I won't run from Jack."

"You wouldn't be." He pushed her onto her back and settled over her. "Think of it as… renting another venue." His eyes sparkled. He grinned crookedly down at her. "I fully intend to exact payment." Her laugh, low and throaty, had him brushing his lips against her upturned mouth. "Seriously, Sharon, I mean it. There's room enough here for your lot. It's dinner. That's all. Maybe not in a neutral location, but in a modestly spacious one at least."

"Jack will do his very best to start a fight," Sharon warned. "He's going to pick up on this. I don't think that I can hide it, nor do I want to." They could be discreet, even respectful, but she wouldn't pretend that he wasn't important to her. "The kids will have their own to say about the situation. Christmas could very well turn into the Raydor Inquisition."

"Let it." Andy settled in beside her. "It's just a dinner. That's all we really need to know about it."

"Okay." Sharon shook her head. She laughed again. "I may regret this, but we'll do Christmas here." She shifted and settled beneath him. His head lowered, lips soft against her neck. Her hands moved into his hair. "It's going to be awkward."

"Yes." His lips brushed the soft skin beneath her ear. His hand moved lower, to slide along her thigh as her leg lifted to curl around him. He stroked the smooth skin, from her hip to her knee and back again. He was delighting in the feel of her, much as he had been since they crossed this threshold earlier. Free now to touch her, he found that he couldn't stop.

Sharon hummed quietly as his tongue traced the line of her collar bone. Her neck arched. Her eyes closed while her fingers combed through his hair. Her nails raked gently against his scalp. Another soft sigh left her lips when his other hand settled against her waist and moved slowly upward. The physical intimacy came so easily now, it seemed to have been all that they were missing previously.

They were already intimate. That was a point that they discussed earlier. There was so much more to being intimate with another person than sex. They already crossed those boundaries. Emotion and thought. It seemed inevitable now that they would take that final step, it had been hovering there, just out of their grasp. Now they had, and their relationship didn't feel as though it had changed much at all. She already cared deeply for him, now she was simply more aware of it.

When his hand settled against her ribcage, thumb teasing the underside of her breast, she exhaled quietly. There was a soft moan on her lips to encourage him. Her foot stroked the back of his thigh.

"You're probably going to lose your temper," she said, voice hitching when his tongue swept the hollow of her throat.

"Oh yeah." He lifted his head and looked up at her. His eyes gleamed. "He's going to drive me batshit crazy and at some point, I'm going to definitely want to put my fist in his face. Nothing new about that." Andy lifted his hands and brushed her hair away from her face. His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "I promise, absolutely, to beat the holy hell out of him if he upsets either one of you." Jack would be on his best behavior with their kids. It would be Sharon and Rusty that would be the target of his attitude, the manipulations. He was going to pick at the kid, and he would poke at Sharon. He would try to make her feel like less than a woman, less of a mother. With Rusty he would make him feel like a stranger, an outsider. Andy had his number.

Sharon laughed at his earnest expression. He would do it, too, if only she would let him. "No, you will not." Her hands moved to his shoulders. She stroked them and down his arms. "We will be on our best behavior. If Jack ends up feeling uncomfortable, well… he should have considered spending the holiday elsewhere. Or hosting the kids at his place for part of the day."

There was a devious gleam in her eyes. Andy knew that look. It was playful, but filled with promise, even determination. It was a glimmer of the woman inside the Darth. She was going to find a way to enjoy herself, this holiday, despite the discomfort of having her ex-husband present. She was going to enjoy her children, and attempt to forget his existence. Andy laughed, a low rumbling sound. "So then," his mouth quirked toward a crooked grin, "What time can I expect you for dinner?"

Her lips pursed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and they rolled across the bed. Sharon settled atop him, the length of her body stretched along his. "Maybe," She began, even as he swept her hair back, out of their way, "I should come over a little early. You're providing the location. I'm not going to let you do everything."

Of course she wasn't. Sharon was taking control of her holiday. The sparkle was back in her eyes as she thought about it. He drew her down, caught her upturned mouth in a light kiss that slowly deepened. Whatever she had planned, he thought, it was going to be a hell of a day. Andy decided, as she settled over him, they could talk about it later.