A/N:This story is dedicated to my dear dear friend, dontmesswiththeraydor.


She loved his scent, and the way his skin rubbed against hers in the darkness of her bedroom. It was surprising to her, that he entered her life in a way she dreamt of for a long time, that soon after realizing what his wife has done to him.

She didn't dare to hope for a future with him, until that moment, but now that he was next to her, she couldn't have enough. It has been a long time since she felt her heart beating so fast when a man said her name, and the fine hair at the back of her arm rising excitedly as he kissed her, his tongue gliding against hers, his lips so warm, so comforting.

She never realized just how hollow she felt before him; how deep the hole Jack has left in her was. She has been so alone for so long, that the loneliness became a routine, a way to live by, even an escape from disappointment. And after spending so much of her career in IA, she has known her fair share of disappointment – with people she thought were friends, with cops who couldn't see that she mostly was on their side. So many years of being mistrusted, cursed, even assaulted once or twice carved a scar so deep in her soul that was way beyond salvation. The pain has gone away, but not the memories, not the loss of faith in her peers.

And here he was, in her bed, making her learn how to feel once again; unfolding her layers, one by one, with his gaze and his lips and his touch that were all so gentle, yet so arousing. She felt renewed, almost like a phoenix that burned and re-emerged from its own ashes.

They were lying awake, side by side. His breath was unsteady as he gazed at the ceiling, their shoulders touching and their fingers laced between their bodies. With her eyes following a thin strip of light that invaded from the window and played across the wall, she recalled the impossible situation that brought them to this specific place in time.

She invited him to dinner over at her condo, with every intention to discuss the way the FBI and the Major Crimes division could co-operate and improve their work relationship. From the moment he walked in, she could see that he was a bit distracted and during dinner, he played with the food in his plate, barely eating any. His tie did not match his shirt, which was unusual when it came to Fritz; he always dressed so impeccably. His eyes were running across the room, trying to avoid her gaze and his breath hitched every few minutes, as if he was trying to hold himself together too hard.

"Fritz," she uttered his name in the softest manner she could muster, feeling the vibration of air in her vocal chords as she spoke. "Are you alright?" She knew, of course, that he had caught Brenda with another man only a couple days earlier. The rumors made it from the DA's office to the LAPD faster than the speed of light. He looked at her, his eyes wide and his chin trembling. Tears welled in his eyes, and she could tell he was trying to hold them back. He set his fork down and attempted to take a deep breath, but instead a long wail came out of his mouth. Sharon looked in awe at the grown man that was falling apart in front of her; it was heartbreaking and yet she felt a distinctive warmth spreading in the pit of her stomach. It was the kind of feeling that she knew from her experience as a mother; the feeling that she was urgently needed.

Getting up from her chair, she stood next to him and ran her fingers through his hair, gently caressing the side of his face with the back of her hand. Fritz pressed his face into her stomach, sobbing into her forest green shirt. She wrapped her arms around his head, loose enough to allow him to move away from her if her wanted. The experience of being cheated was not strange to her; Jack made sure of that, several times throughout their marriage.

"God, oh, God, why did she do this to me?" the words escaped his mouth in the midst of a sob.

"I know it hurts, and I'm here with you; for you," her voice was thick with emotion. She felt his arms tightening around her waist, his fingers digging into the small of her back as he stretched his neck and placed his head on her bosom, listening to her heartbeat and letting it calm him down. Her fingers played with his hair absentmindedly, her motions soothing and undoing him slowly.

She did not expect things to escalate so quickly, but before she realized it, she felt his breath against her neck and his lips traced her jaw line with soft kisses. She turned her face to meet his mouth, almost too excited when his lips latched onto hers; sucking with such fervor that she felt the air leaving her lungs at once.

She had no idea how they got to the bedroom and no recollection of her clothes being removed by his firm hands. She did recall touching him, undoing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt, letting her hands slide up and down his chest, appreciating his toned muscles with her fingers and mouth.

"Sharon?" his voice was pensive and drew her away from her own thoughts. She hummed softly in reply. "This night, here with you, means a lot to me." Sharon felt her body tensing, knowing it was not the end of what he wanted to say. She turned on her side and looked at him.

"But you're thinking of Brenda, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry," she could tell he was sincere, but it did hurt.

"I understand, I really do," she did, but only to a certain extent. He pushed the blanked aside and got up. "Look, I'm not angry or something. You can stay the night if you want." Fritz lay back down, he pulled the covers over his body.

"Thank you, Sharon, for being here for me," he said softly as he allowed his head to sink into the pillow.

"There's nothing to it, Fritz," Sharon replied and adjusted her pillow before closing her eyes.

"Maybe we could be friends," Fritz sighed.

"Yeah, maybe," Sharon replied sleepily. Maybe one day they could be more than friends, she thought as slumber washed over her like a wave and carried her with it to the sea of dreams.

THE END