She stood at the sliding door staring out into the blackened sky. She didn't need to look at her watch to know it wasn't nearly as late as it felt. As much as she loved the holidays, lived for them in fact, she despised the timing of them. Some days she didn't get a chance to feel the sun warm her face, between the early trips to the gym and the late nights at work she wouldn't have known there was even a sun if it weren't for the window in her office.
Her neck felt stiff as she tilted her head back to swallow the last bit of her glass of Malbec. It wasn't really her taste, but Gavin left it here the last time he'd come over and she decided to finish it off. The tenth floor was giving her a migraine with all their back and forth. Some days she swore that retirement would have been the easier route to take, but she felt the pull of unfinished business. That and the rational sense of her financial planner reminding her of where her retirement goals were set. Jack had done far too much damage for her to take any kind of early retirement, not that she wanted to cease working altogether. The stigma of IA followed her every where she went, she knew it would be the same if she took a job somewhere else. Once a rat, always a rat. She knew that when she signed up for the squad, it was worth it though for the time she got back with her kids.
Sharon twirled the stem of the empty wine glass in her hands and looked towards her laptop on the kitchen table, she had flights to book for Christmas. For some reason she was dragging her feet. She wanted to see her kids, her parents, but Salt Lake City didn't have the pull it once did. She wouldn't see both of her kids for Thanksgiving this year. Emily was auditioning for a spot with the American Ballet Company and couldn't come home and Ricky was busy piloting some cyber thing with some friends from university. He said she could come up and visit, but Thanksgiving at a restaurant didn't have much appeal. She supposed that she was feeling the holiday blues that people often described, but she'd not experienced. Peering back out into the skyline of downtown Los Angeles she let out a sigh, life was changing and she needed to change with it.
The door clicked behind her and she smiled knowing who it was before she turned around to see Andy walking in, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder. She smirked when she saw it, raising an eyebrow. He followed her eye, "Got it back last week."
She crossed the room meeting him halfway, setting her glass down on the coffee table and reaching her hand up to take the jacket for inspection, "You didn't think you were taking a chance in wearing it again tonight?"
"I can't help it if people having a thing about this coat," he smiled knowing that she meant something entirely different from how he responded. When she merely put her hand out again gesturing for the jacket, he reluctantly handed it to her, not missing the quick almost imperceptible sniff she did. She loved the smell of leather to begin with, but when it was mixed with Andy's own unique brand of man scent it was a blend that she found to be intoxicating. And her body responded in kind as a slight jolt went through her. As she turned the sleeves over she found the tiniest repair job. Her fingers ran over the the stitching, unable to keep her mind from replaying that night.
Andy watched her, "I'm fine," he whispered.
Sharon nodded back unable to withdraw her fingertips from the darkened brown leather. His fingers came down to meet hers and finally she looked up, "I'm fine," he repeated. She nodded once more as he took the jacket from her, setting it on the sofa before pulling her into his warm embrace. She continued to nod against his chest, her fingers searching for the hem of his shirt. He chuckled. She'd seen it a hundred times already, but she needed to see it once more. Pulling back slightly she yanked the black shirt from his jeans and lifted it up above his rib cage. There she quickly found what she was looking for, a less angry red scar staring back at her. It was healing nicely, no doubt from her regular cocoa butter treatments. One day it would just be a thin fine line, much like the stitching on his coat — barely perceptible and only just to someone looking for it.
Her fingers ran across the scar, trying to paint it away with each pass. It never disappeared, tonight would be no different but it didn't stop her efforts. Andy bent his head down and placed a kiss to the top of her head, he'd become familiar with this ritual of hers. It didn't matter how many times he reminded her that he was okay or joked that he was still in one piece. She needed to see it for herself, to feel it. He was fine with it, whatever she needed to heal herself over the trauma of what they both went through. He was the one that was stabbed but she was the one that had to see him like that, had to work despite it all. The worst of it all was pretending that it wasn't traumatic for them as a couple, because to anyone inside the LAPD they were still enemies. Sure many would admit that they'd seen the ice thawing between them over the past year, but none would guess it had reached this level of amicability.
Their children knew. Their parents knew and that's who counted. The rest well they didn't need to know, until a day like that day. They'd been together long enough that the conversation of next of kin and emergency contact should have come up, but it hadn't. That night had thrown a spotlight onto the very reason why the rest did need to know. And they would, just not tonight. Tonight she wanted to lean against him and feel him beneath her, alive and well and hers.
She didn't want people to know why her report had documented Andy as saying "It's your lucky day" when he called her - the real reason that is.
Andy lifted her chin pulling her focus back to the here and now, "I'm fine and it's not your fault." He kissed her lips softly waiting for her to lean into him as she would, deepening it. It hadn't taken him long to discover that she loved him to initiate things but she wanted to be the one to escalate them. It was a game of cat and mouse, one that they'd long since perfected at work but had come to improve upon at home.
Home. This wasn't his home. But it didn't feel like hers without him in it. She let out a deep sigh as they paused their light kisses. She opened her eyes and noticed the room felt darker, the timer would be going off soon illuminating the condo. Normally, she'd welcome the light but tonight she wanted to stay just like this. Her and Andy together bathed in darkness. She left his jacket where it was and gave him a tug before walking down the hallway with him close in tow.
"Have you eaten?" She asked realizing that he probably came straight over from his meeting.
"No, but it can wait," he replied pulling her back into him as he guided them through her bedroom door together. She was about to argue with him, remind him that he was still healing and really should eat, but his lips engulfed her own silencing any argument that might spill from them. Her teeth tugged at his bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth as she felt him slip his hands beneath her blouse.
His hands were always warm against her skin but tonight it felt like they were spreading fire as they moved along the small of her back.
Her fingers began searching out his belt, making quick work of undoing the clasp and unbuttoning his jeans. He smiled against her lips loving how she could go from zero to a hundred, she was a force to be reckoned with and his only hope was to keep up. He felt his body responding to her enthusiasm, pleased that age was doing no major damage to his libido.
His hands ran a familiar path up her back, taking her green and blue blouse up with them. She let out an annoyed grunt as she pulled her lips from his so he could remove her top. Before it cleared her hair she went back to kissing him. Tugging on his lower lip as his hands palmed her breasts through her black lace bra before returning to her hips. His thumbs dug into the sides of her chinos as she tugged down the zipper of his pants.
"What do you need?" He asked between breathless kissing.
"I need to feel you Andy, on my skin, around me," she replied with out pause.
Andy loved how forthcoming she was as both a human and a lover. Never was he in doubt about whether she was enjoying herself or not. All he ever needed to do was ask. He felt her hands slid up under his shirt and he raised his arms in anticipation of her want. Tossing the garment aside her hands stilled, her eyes closing as she inhaled him. Sharon lowered her mouth placing nipping kisses across his chest, hands moving slowly down his sides and around to his back. With his jeans loose she easily slipped her hands below the waistband of his boxer briefs and gripped his firm ass with both hands, pulling him closer to her as she did. Andy smiled at her action as always did when she was like this. Who would have thought that Sharon Raydor would be into men's asses, but there you had it. He certainly wasn't disappointed that she was attracted, or more aptly but enamored with his. His jeans began slipping down his waist as her hands moved up and down his butt.
Andy unclasped Sharon's bra to distract her momentarily so he could toe off his shoes as she pulled her arms through her bra straps and flung it across the room. Her hands yanked at his pants pulling them into a puddle around his ankles, forcing him to balance against her and kick them off.
"I think you're a tad overdressed Red," he mumbled into her hair as his fingers stumbled with the annoyingly too small women's buttons on her chinos.
"Are you going to do something about that?" She challenged.
"Trying," he panted as he squinted through the dark to get a hang on the button.
"Try harder," she palmed him for extra incentive.
His hips bucked hard against her hand, "I think you ought to provide an assist."
"Very well," she quickly thumbed the button through the hole and unzipped her pants, "I think you can manage from here."
"If you keep up this smart ass routine Red," his hands pushed her pants off her hips taking what he assumed was the matching pair of black lace panties down with it.
"You'll what," she dared with fire in her eyes as she pulled down the last barrier between.
She let out an almost satiated sigh at the overwhelming feeling of finally having naked flesh on naked flesh as Andy pulled her against him and guided them back towards the bed. She'd be on top tonight, he didn't need to ask he already knew exactly what she needed.
Sharon would run her hands on the scar again as she fell asleep with Andy laying beside her, and tomorrow she would need him to remind her that he was fine all over again. Soon it would be barely perceptible, but tonight she would feel for herself, that he was alive and that he was hers.