On the Rooftop - an episode tag to 4x04

by Glistening Sun

It smells good, heavenly, that's the first thing I notice upon waking up. That wonderful scent is coming from Sharon's hair. Wait, Sharon's hair? And then I remember. Last night, our dinner-date on the rooftop after which dating seems to no longer describe what we do. Since she literally fell into my arms at the beach a few weeks ago, we've been properly dating, with candles and dinners and kisses under the stars and red roses, but last night wasn't another one of those dates. Last night she surprised me. Big time.

"Lieutenant Flynn!" she ordered me into her office just before we were due to leave and once the door closed behind me, she rested her head in her hands and gave me her sphinx-like smile. "I was thinking," she said and lifted her eyes to look at me, "when you pick me up tonight, you might want to bring a change of clothes for tomorrow."

I nearly choked and started coughing so badly that she had to walk around her desk and hit me on the back several times.

"Or do you fancy a ride to the hospital?" she whispered hoarsely leaning so close I could feel her breath tickling my neck.

"I'll be there," I wheezed, "with my uniform – if I die from a heart attack beforehand."

"Now that would be a shame. I have plans for tonight."

It's like dating Sharon is letting me see a different woman. It took a while for her to really let go of the threat of Philip Stroh, but the more time we spend officially dating, the more relaxed she is and playful in a way I would never have expected. When I arrived at her apartment last night, my freshly starched and ironed uniform in a clothes bag, she greeted me with a long, passionate kiss and then she took me to the top. I mean, literally to the top of her building where she had set out a romantic picknick with all the trimmings. We stood at the railing for a long time looking out over the city trying to make out different landmarks while my hands crept from her shoulders down to her waist and finally to her stomach so I could hold her close. She laughed and hummed and kept snuggling closer to me.

I'm squatting away the hands that are fiddling with my uniform, amused by the expression of intense concentration on her face.

"Stop resisting. If you're gonna take Buzz on his first patrol, you've got to look the part."

"Stop fiddling. I'm a grown man, I can dress myself," I say and move her hands from my tie bringing them to my lips for a kiss instead. Sharon is pouting now, pretending to be upset until I pull her in for a hug and start kissing her face in random places, making her giggle and squeak.

"I know you're a mommabear and you like to take care of your boys, but I can dress myself. I'm a grown man."

"You are a grown man, indeed," she says and winks, "But you have the stubbornness of a teenager. Besides, my sons never ask me for help with their ties."

"Neither did I."

She ignores me and instead goes back to kissing me, her hands running down my sides tantalisingly slow until they reach my belt and she roughly pulls me close. "You should let me help. I like a man in uniform, you know."

"Why do I have the feeling that you'd be better at taking off my tie?" She blushes furiously and snorts into my chest. I cannot believe how after last night she can still blush at such a simple statement. Somehow, that only makes me love her more.

"Sharon?" Rusty's voice sounds from outside her bedroom door. "Does the Lieutenant want to have breakfast with us or are you gonna sneak him out? Cause I'm already awake and I could, you know, just put on my headphones and pretend I don't know."

Dammit! Our first time and the kid already knows? For a moment I'm worried about Sharon's reaction, but she just looks at me with a raised eyebrow. "The Lieutenant," she starts, "still needs to pick up the cake for Buzz. Why don't we ask him to take us out for breakfast at that little bakery." Fitting punishment. After her barely concealed invitation to spend the night yesterday I was so preoccupied, I barely managed to pick up my uniform from my house, let alone remember Buzz' cake. What did she expect went she tells me to bring a change of clothes when we had never spent a night together before?

"You do look particularly handsome today, Andy. You know, I've always had a thing for men in uniform. There's something rather irresistible about those dress blues." That's new information for me. Jack never wore a uniform and I don't think she ever had anything with someone from within the LAPD. Maybe she's had a lover in uniform? A dashing marine? Before I can begin to get jealous, she runs her hand down my tie one more time and stands on tiptoe to kiss murmuring something that sounds like irresistible, but the words get lost in our passion. She also whispered that into my ear last night when we were lying together on her blanket looking up at the stars and trying to catch our breath.

Sharon is downright giddy today and plain adorable with her goofy smiles and little jokes, holding my hand through breakfast and as we are driving to work ignoring Rusty's increasingly annoyed huffs and eyerolls. When she pulls on my tie in front of everyone everything about her says payback for not letting me do that this morning and wait until we get home. God, yes, I can't wait to get home with her either! I wish I didn't have to go on patrol tonight of all nights. Despite doing my very best to not to smile at her too openly, Provenza tells me later that I am the biggest idiot there is and that I should ask her out on a proper date. He has no idea what we did last night and just how fantastic this dating thing really is. Although Sharon said we're not dating anymore, we're too serious for that now. I tend to agree, but calling her my girlfriend sounds incredibly juvenile and I already have a partner. I suggested calling her my love when she woke up in my arms this morning and her eyes sparkled. I'm tired already because neither of us slept very much last night – and as much as I like going on patrol with Buzz, I'd really much rather spend the night with Sharon up on her roof again – or really anywhere with her. Well, not anywhere, I correct when she rolls out to the crime scene eager beaver Buzz has discovered.

Today she is even more open with her affection. She leaves my tie alone, but she keeps touching me throughout the day, my chest, my shoulder – and she gives me that wonderful smile. I feel like reciprocating, but am not quite sure how she will react. Until quite recently I was the one who had to watch himself and keep his emotions in check around her while she told me off for calling her Sharon at work. Well, not for calling her Sharon, but for correcting myself afterwards. Something has changed – and I do know very well what that is. Our lovely rooftop picknick and now it's her who can't keep her hands off me and I can't believe this is the same woman. I pull her into her office when we have a quiet moment and right away her hands are on my chest fiddling with my tie. "I have this fantasy," I whisper, "about you and me and this office." and she looks at me as though I've just said the most outrageous thing ever, so I push a little more. "And I'm sure you have some fantasies yourself, Captain, don't you?"

"We lived one of my fantasies the night before last," she admits averting her eyes and straightens my tie yet again. I'm discovering a completely new Sharon! I wonder how many people get to see that side of her and I can't help feeling just a little proud that I am one of them. She has always said that she can't do this half way, that she's either all in – or all out. I understand that now. She must have been holding back a large part of her and what I'm discovering now is exciting and heartwarming at the same time. My prim and proper Captain Raydor and her rooftop fantasies. I'm so caught up in my thoughts about her and how wonderful she is that I miss what she says next.

"Andy? Hey, Andy, everything okay?"

"I'm sorry – my mind was still stuck on our night."

"That's a pity," she says with a changed voice and places a kiss on my lips, "you missed something important." Damn. There we are talking about fantasies and I don't even pay attention. I look at her and her eyes are sparkling mischievously,

"You really have no idea what I just said, do you?" I shake my head, still partly caught on the rooftop, desperately looking for something intelligent to say. "I take it you enjoyed my fantasy, then?" I can only gulp helplessly while she's clearly enjoying herself.

When we finally wrap up the case, it's too late to still go to the Game, but she invites us all home. Home. Her home, even though it feels so familiar and she seems to think so, too, thrusting the pizza delivery menus at me. I haven't held her properly since yesterday morning and she looks so cute with her cap. I feel a sense of pride because it's me who got her that cap despite her insistent protests.

What I really want to do is pull her away, back to the rooftop or to her bedroom and kiss her, but what I do instead is slide my hand into the thick curtain of her hair while everyone is busy cheering and for a second I can feel her tense until she relaxes into my touch. She is at home now, and her guard is down and that is how we pass the rest of the game, my hand in her hair stroking the soft skin at her neck. She doesn't flinch and she doesn't push me away and I feel like I'm in heaven. By the time my partner makes that comment about Patrice and his uniform, Sharon has clearly had a few beers more that she usually would and is the only one who laughs and I can't resist whispering something into her ear that makes her groan. Yes, definitely a little too much beer tonight.

Full of excitement to see the fireworks she's swaying a little, grabbing a bottle of sparkling wine and making me carry an almost empty bowl of snacks. We make it up the remaining flights of stairs to her roof together, my arm safely around her waist while she stumbles once or twice and giggles. Fortunately everyone else seems to be too preoccupied with the fireworks to notice. Unlike two nights ago, the roof is full of people and after handing off the bottle of wine to Amy, we find ourselves a corner away from the team.

"I wish we were alone right now," she whispers, "I've never made love under the fireworks."