Her hands shook as she flipped through the overtime approvals, signing her name on the line at the end of each page. When she went to the break room to refill her coffee mug, her hands proved untrustworthy again and she created a small, brown lake on the countertop.

The ring glittered in the evening sunlight as she wiped the mess up, and she froze, transfixed by the small flashes dancing around her finger.

It was all wrong. She had been thinking about it for weeks now. The timing was all wrong, she was wrong and just as wretched as Phillip Stroh for taking advantage of Andy as she had. He deserved someone better, a nice, kind woman who didn't come with an entire condo of baggage and a serial killer.

She could picture the woman, maybe blonde like so many of the other women he'd dated, tall and mature, good for his health. She couldn't let him be with someone who wouldn't help him take care of himself. He worked so hard as it was, and so much of that was her fault, and he really didn't need additional stressors. He should marry someone with a nice, normal job, someone who was good at cooking low-sodium dinners, someone who didn't clear her apartment with gun in hand every time she walked in the door.

She didn't realize she was crying until she sniffed and salty water cooled the edge of her nare. She sighed tiredly and tilted her head back, blotting the tears away with the dishtowel she held. Her makeup was probably ruined, but it was almost six already, and they'd had a long day. No one would notice.

She finished cleaning the counter and returned to her office, dispirited. She needed to call it off tonight. It seemed cruel, to call the wedding off in the midst of everything. It had been a long week, a long month of horrible cases, overtime, and Stroh. She had gotten a letter from him at work, a Dear Commander, I hear congratulations are in order, doubly so. The letter had been processed for any clue of his whereabouts, but ultimately left her with nothing but a lingering sense of disquiet and a peculiar skittishness that even weekly sessions with the department psychiatrist had been unable to ease.

The psychiatrist had told her not to be hasty, not to cancel the wedding while she was under such duress, but the doctor didn't understand. It was the obvious choice, the smart choice. Call off the wedding, break the engagement, and Andy wouldn't be such a target. Get him away from her and Rusty and Stroh and his stress levels would go down.

It wasn't as though he had to move out immediately. He could stay until he found a place, or perhaps Patrice and Provenza would open up their guest room. She was sure they would. It would be okay. Andy would have to deal with the hideous duck lamp that Patrice had moved to the spare bedroom, but it would be okay.

Sharon laughed slightly and was surprised to hear it come out slightly hysterical.

She sniffled again, then pulled a legal pad out of her desk. Her hand was steadier as she wrote 1) on the paper.

1) Too much going on- cases, Stroh

2) Stroh would target a wedding

3) He deserves better

4) Can solely focus on Rusty's safety

5) I'm a stress factor and bad for his health

She paused, staring at her list. There were other things, less significant things, and if she were to let Andy down gently, it was best to have a thorough argument prepared beforehand.

6) Emily is going to be in the middle of dance season

7) Both his parents and mine are rather old to be traveling

8) Rusty needs to focus on classes, not a wedding

"Sharon?"

She jumped and looked up. Andy had one hand curled around the doorframe of her office and was leaning in.

"Did you want to head home soon? It's getting late, and the kid needs to be fed." He grinned at the last statement. Despite his relationship with Gus, Rusty had remained semi-incapable of more than basic cooking.

She stuttered, unsure of how she wanted to reply. She hadn't thought about Rusty being present while she broke off the wedding. He'd be on Andy's side, and would try to convince her not to do it.

"Sharon?" He looked concerned now, the last thing she wanted. "Hey, what's wrong?" He stepped in and she tried to brush her paper aside as she stood.

"I-" Her voice cracked and she shook her head as he came closer. "I-" She wrapped her right hand around her ring finger and wrestled the ring off. "I- I can't-"

He looked baffled, but pulled her close. "Hey, hey, it's okay."

She pressed the ring into his hand and pulled back. "I can't marry you. I can't do it."

He froze, face falling. "Sharon-"

She turned away shaking her head. "I- I just- we can't, I can't do this to you."

"Do what? Make me the happiest man in Los Angeles?" His attempt at lightness fell flat.

"I can't make you marry me, not with-"

"'Make?' Sharon, no one's making me do anything. I want to-"

"No, you don't. I'm bad for your health and I endanger you by keeping you close and I-"

"Sharon, hey-"

She turned back to him, crying in earnest now. "Not here, Andy. Not at work. Let's go ho-" She tripped over the word. Was it really home if she was calling the wedding off? Calling off the engagement?

He frowned. "No. No, we need to finish this discussion now."

"But-"

"That's what the blinds are for, sweetheart." He left her standing in the middle of the room as he shut the door and pulled the blinds between her and the murder room. He caught a glimpse of Provenza's face as he did so, and the old lieutenant looked just as concerned as his partner.

He turned back to her and pulled her gently to the sofa.

"What's wrong?"

She hung her head and refused to look up, toying with her barren fingers. "I can't let you marry me."

He stopped breathing for a second, then set the ring on the arm of the sofa and took her hands in his own. "Why?"

"I-" she sighed heavily. "I'm a danger to anyone around me and I can't protect you."

He froze. She had clearly been thinking about it for a while. He doubted she'd noticed doing it, but her voice had taken on the cool tone from her FID days. He'd seen the yellow legal pad on her desk and realized she'd probably written her argument on it. She didn't use legal pads for casework, just personal things. She kept a couple at home, in her desk and the nightstand.

"You deserve better than that, Andy. You should have someone who-"

"Sharon. Hey." He lifted her chin up and swiped tears away with his thumbs. "Hey. I don't want anyone else. I want you. I don't care about Stroh-" She flinched at the name. "Or whatever else you think makes you dangerous. I'm trouble, too, and you know as well as I do that it seems to follow me around."

"I have so much baggage, Andy. I have three kids and an ex-husband and my parents haven't met you, and all this business with Stroh."

He shrugged. "I have two kids, one of whom still doesn't really talk to me, an ex-wife who's in my business more than Jack is in yours, and I'm an alcoholic, Sharon. I ask myself all the time what I did to deserve you. You're the best thing that's happened to me, outside my kids."

She looked miserable, and her cheeks were blotched from crying. "We have to call off the wedding. It'll be Stroh's biggest target, all of us there at once. Even the Chief- Brenda- will be there, and God only knows how much he wants a shot at her."

"Shar, the save-the-dates have been sent, and Andrea and Sykes and the girls already have their dresses." He tried to appeal to her practicality. They weren't calling anything off. She was upset and stressed and hadn't been home for more than a couple hours at a time over the last several days.

"I can reimburse them." She swept her hair back with one hand.

"Sharon."

She looked up as his voice dropped.

"I'd rather have a year with you than ten of seeing you and not having you."

She looked away again.

"You don't need to be my protector. Rusty's, yes. He can't do it by himself, no matter how well you train him to shoot. I've been in this line of work as long as you, and I know how to protect myself. You and I are together. Maybe we endanger each other, but we protect each other, too. That's what partners do, isn't it? And what are we, if not partners?"

They sat in silence for a long minute, before Sharon stood and walked to her desk. He watched as she ripped the top sheet off her pad and passed it to him.

He read it slowly. She had made fair points, maybe not valid, but fair.

"We're always going to have too much going on, and you've already said Stroh would use the wedding as a target. At least if he shows up and one of us shoots him, you won't have to get into a 72-hour reporting cycle."

She smiled tremulously. "Very funny."

He took the next one seriously. "If anyone deserves better, it's you. You deserve the best, Sharon. I'm just another beat down recovering addict with a short temper. I suppose I'm a step up from Provenza, but I have no idea why I caught your eye."

"You're funny, and sweet," she said quietly. "And you try to make things right by everyone, not just me. That's special."

"Two are better than one when it comes to protecting the kid." He sighed heavily before addressing the next point. "Sharon, who reminds me to take my pills when I forget?"

She wrung her fingers. "I do."

"Who bought me the damn color-coded pill box so I don't usually forget?"

"I did."

"Were you the first person to show up at the hospital for me?"

She nodded tightly.

"And who gets familial rights there?"

"Provenza and Nicole and me."

"Who tries her damnedest to make healthy meals and eats them with me on the rare occasion it doesn't turn out so hot?"

She snorted. She'd made several things that weren't too great.

"I think you're pretty good for me, all things considered." He stood and walked over to the desk to hug her tightly. "All those other points are trivial. They're about other people who have already decided they want to see you be happy. Other people you've sacrificed so much for."

He could feel her pull her hands up to her chest as she leaned into him.

"Sharon, I don't know what you want here, but I know what I need. I'm hoping they're still the same thing."

She was crying again. After a minute, he could feel the warm moisture of her tears seeping through his shirt. He rocked slightly. "Hey, there."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "The psychiatrist told me not to make big decisions now. She said I'm tired and stressed and in a place to make emotional decisions."

"You're seeing a shrink?" It was news to him.

"Yeah. It's just been so much lately. I just have been really struggling to keep a handle on it."

He nodded. "That's good. That you're getting help, I mean."

"I would have talked to you but I didn't want to burden you."

"It's not a burden. We're sharing the load, okay?"

He could feel her nod against his chest.

"But if you ever want to talk things out with me, don't bottle it up, okay? I'm here."

She nodded again. "I know. I just, I was scared and. . ." she shrugged.

"Sometimes I'm not the right person. That's okay, too."

"Okay."

They stayed that way as the sun started to set. Andy watched the shadows overtake the wall, and suddenly realized Sharon was almost asleep as she leaned against him. The room was dim, too dark to read but not too dark to see. He wasn't sure how long it had been since they'd stopped talking, but no one had come in to disturb them.

"Sharon?"

"Hmm."

"Let's head home, okay?"

"Yeah."

"We can heat up some leftovers and get to bed early."

"That sounds good."

He pulled away from her slowly, missing her warmth as he stepped away. Something flashed on the sofa cushion, and he remembered the ring. He scooped it up and held it for a moment before returning to her as she packed her purse.

"I believe this is yours." His mouth went dry as she turned towards him and looked at the ring. She could still refuse it, still break it off.

"I believe you're right," she replied quietly. "Care to help me put it on?" She held out her hand and he smiled and slid the ring home, back where it belonged.

He helped her into her jacket, too, passed her the purse before they started for the door. He broke the silence with his hand on the door knob. "Are we okay?"

She squeezed his hand tightly. "Yes. I'm sure. Are you?" She tipped her face toward him, watching with dark eyes.

"Of course. I love you. Don't ever doubt it."

"I love you, too." She leaned forward on her toes and kissed him. "Thank you for talking me down."

"Our fears get the better of us, sometimes. It happens to the best of us."

She nodded again before opening the door and leading him towards home.

They passed Provenza on their way out as the Lieutenant gathered his things. Sharon gave him her customary goodbye, and he glanced over her head to Flynn who merely smiled and nodded towards their joined hands. Sharon held his in a white-knuckle grip, but the rock of a ring was still on, so Provenza knew whatever had ruffled the Commander's feathers- no, lit them afire- had passed, soothed by Flynn.

"Have a good night, Commander, Flynn."

She smiled at him. "We will. See you tomorrow, Louie."

Andy drew her close as they walked out. The universe had been set aright, and they were okay.