A/N I've finally decided to contribute. This is my first time writing anything (aside from the odd fic review or grocery list) since way back in English 101 in the last century. That being said, any mistakes are my own. Poor pacing, confusing lack of plot, bad grammar, ugly formatting, any other weirdness, and overuse of italics are also my fault.

This has been rattling around in my mind for a while. There's more up there but, judging by the effort it took to get this much written, it's probably best to consider this a one shot.

I gain nothing but anxiety from this. No copyright infringement intended.

Captain Sharon Raydor walked into the Major Crimes murder room carrying an armful of folders. "Alright, everyone, we have some new budgetary guidelines to go over if you all have a moment." She scanned the room as she began handing out the folders and noticed one absence, "Where is Lieutenant Flynn?"

Provenza looked up from his crossword puzzle and disdainfully picked up the packet she'd set on his desk. He waved it at no one in particular and announced, "You know, the department might not be in such financial trouble if we didn't all get a full-color, thirty page memo every damn time they want to tell us we still can't have any overtime." He dropped the folder back onto his desk before answering her question. "Flynn took a personal day. Actually, he's taking the rest of the week. Some. . . family issue."

When he saw Sharon's concerned look he shook his head slightly, "I don't think it's anything serious. He said he'd come in if we caught a murder and needed him."

"He called while you were in Taylor's office, ma'am." Sanchez offered helpfully.

Sharon nodded her head, "Hmm, alright then. Well, we'll just have to give Lieutenant Flynn the abridged version when he returns."

"Mind giving it to us, right now, Captain?" Provenza asked.

Sharon fixed Provenza with a halfhearted glare. "I had to sit through a two hour meeting and go through every one of those thirty-FIVE pages and you want me to just-"

"Yes. " Provenza interrupted, "Please, Captain. None of us are getting any younger. Except maybe Sykes." he grumbled as an afterthought.

"Alright, Lieutenant, since you asked so nicely and since we already have more than enough paperwork to get through, " She turned on her heel and walked to her office. Pausing in the doorway, she turned back to her squad and with a slight smirk directed at the crotchety Lieutenant said, "We still can't have any overtime." With that, Captain Raydor entered her office and closed the door behind her.

Sharon was slowly moving toward her destination. The traffic around her was heavy. But not as bad as it could be, she kept reminding herself.

"I'll be a little late tonight, Rusty." Sharon spoke to the speakerphone as she cautiously made her way through traffic.

"Are you going grocery shopping? We're like, out of everything."

Sharon smiled even as she rolled her eyes and thought about the state of her refrigerator. She used to be able to go a whole week between trips to the grocery store. Now that he had given his testimony and Wade Weller was no longer a threat, Rusty's teenage appetite had, thankfully, returned with a vengeance. She sighed, "No, not tonight. I need to check on something on my way home."

"Is everything okay, Sharon?" Rusty's voice betrayed the worry that still sometimes lurked just below the surface. "I mean, nothing bad is going on, right?"

"No, no, nothing bad, Rusty." Sharon soothed, "I just need to check on a friend."

There was silence on the line for a beat, then Rusty's incredulous voice returned, "A friend? Sharon, you don't have any friends." He was back to his sarcastic self.

"That's not true. You've met Gavin." Sharon defended herself halfheartedly.

"That's one, Sharon. One friend that you rarely see does not equal a healthy personal life."

Sharon's eyebrows rose in surprise at Rusty's comment. Dr. Joe must be getting through. "I have other friends, Rusty."

Rusty sighed in resignation. "Whatever, Sharon." He immediately perked up having recognized an opportunity, "So, Sharon, since you're not going shopping and I'm, like, really starving, can I order a pizza?

It was Sharon's turn to sigh again, "Alright, Rusty. Just get something with some vegetables on it this time." The last time he'd ordered, it had taken her several days to recover from the one slice of mega-meat monstrosity she'd eaten. "There's some money in the-"

"In the drawer with the takeout menus. I know, Sharon." Rusty interrupted. "I'll order you a salad and save some pizza for you." he added, softening his tone somewhat.

Sharon couldn't help but smile, "Thank you, Rusty. I won't be too late."

They said their goodbyes and Sharon ended the call.

Her thoughts immediately went back to what had been bothering her all day. Just what exactly did 'Some family issue' mean?

She hadn't asked. Lieutenant Flynn had followed procedure and Lieutenant Provenza was satisfied with his reason for taking personal time. Captain Raydor was happy that her squad was functioning well without the need of micromanagement on her part. Sharon, however, was curious.

She just hoped that Andy's ex-wife hadn't thought up some new way to make his life miserable. He had been unusually quiet for a few days after what she assumed was the family therapy session in which he'd admitted to his family that he and Sharon were not dating. In the weeks following, things had seemingly returned to normal. She hadn't received any more invitations. Apparently there was no more need for a friendly buffer between Andy and his family.

Sharon, you don't have any friends.

Rusty's words of just moments ago resonated within her. She'd been so focused on Rusty and catching the Letter Writer and solving whatever other mess of a murder was thrown at Major Crimes that, she had to admit, fostering her friendships hadn't been high on her list of priorities.

Sharon glanced at a street sign in this less familiar part of the city and decided that that's exactly what she was being right now. A friend. She would check on Andy just to be sure he was alright. And eating. And not passed out in a fit of hypertension. That's what friends did, right?

Sharon turned her car onto his street and drove slowly, scanning the modest single level houses as she passed. She'd only been to Andy's house once, the night of the Nutcracker. He had, uncharacteristically, gotten a small stain on his tie at dinner and wanted to change it before going to the theater.

It had been dark then and she couldn't now recall exactly which house was Andy's. As Sharon slowly made her way along the street she noticed an oncoming car entering a driveway on the next block. She recognized it as his car and parked across the street from his house, not wanting to bother with making a u-turn. Sharon grabbed her purse and opened the door to get out of the car. Glancing across the street as she rose from the driver's seat, she stopped as she made a few realizations. That was definitely Andy's house. That was definitely Andy and he definitely wasn't alone. A tall brunette was by his side.

He was dressed in what Sharon thought of as his off-duty uniform- jeans, an untucked button down shirt, and a jacket, the leather one tonight. He shifted what appeared to be takeout bags to his left hand and unlocked the front door with his right .

Sharon stood next to her car in a slightly dazed state as bits of the conversation going on in front of her began to register in her mind.

"-Andy, you are crazy!" The woman turned and grinned at Andy.

Sharon couldn't see his face, but she could hear the smile in Andy's voice when he responded, "You don't know the half of it, sweetheart!" He placed his keys in his pocket and guided her into his home with a hand on the small of her back. "There was this one time when I was-" his voice was cut off by the now closed door.

She stood in the street for ten full seconds replaying in her mind what she'd just seen before abruptly shaking her head, turning and getting back into her car.

Sharon gripped the steering wheel tightly for a moment before reaching for the ignition, "He's alright, seems to be eating, and hasn't passed out. . . yet." she mumbled to herself as she started her car and pulled away from the curb. She refused to name the emotion responsible for the ache in her stomach. As she drove home, Sharon thought about the last time she'd felt it.

She stood in Andy's living room waiting for him to change his tie. She was somewhat surprised by the decor of his home though she didn't know why. It was very much like the man himself; clean, well coordinated and unapologetically masculine. Dark leather and wood were everywhere. The effect wasn't oppressive, but rather warm and welcoming. There were unexpected bursts of bold color throughout the room and not a single sports poster to be found. Instead, on the walls hung several nice pieces of art and various photos of his kids. There was also a collage frame with pictures of the Major Crimes squad throughout the years. Somehow, she was taken aback to find herself in a few photos. She was examining a seascape that was particularly intriguing when Andy returned with no tie around his neck but one in each hand. He motioned to the painting, "That one was actually done by one of my uncles, my ma's oldest brother. He was an artist in Italy."

Sharon looked at him, eyes wide in intrigue, "It's very good."

Andy smiled crookedly, "Thanks, I've always liked it, even when I was a kid. He came to America and became a garbage man." He chuckled at Sharon's look of dismay, "Don't worry, he was a happy garbage man who painted at the beach on the weekends. That's somewhere along the Jersey shore. Ma got it when he died and gave it to me when I moved out here. She said it was to remind me of where I came from. Trish, my ex," he explained as if Sharon might have forgotten the woman that had stared daggers at them both through most of Nicole's wedding reception, "hated it. In fact, it's just about the only thing she didn't take in the divorce."

Sharon hummed with the slightest hint of a smile on her lips.

There was an awkward silence for a moment. Andy watched Sharon as she again looked at the painting. Finally he blurted out, "Listen, Sharon, I know you know something is going on. So, uh, I just want to clear the air. Nicole and Trish, well, they kind of assumed that since you came with me to Nicole's wedding," Andy put both hands up as if to prove the sincerity of his words, "- even though I introduced you as my friend. Well, they kinda, maybe assumed that we really are um, dating. I never once told them that we were."

"But," she drew the word out, "you didn't tell them that we weren't either. Did you?" Sharon asked, looking at him over the top of her glasses.

Andy looked genuinely contrite. "No, I didn't. I should have. I'm sorry that I let their assumption go uncorrected. I really appreciate all you've done for me, Sharon. It was stupid of me to take advantage of you like that because my kid was impressed and I enjoy seeing my ex's nose out of joint." He paused for a moment, swallowed hard and continued, "I'll, um, I'll tell them the truth tonight. You're married. You're my boss. You were my friend who was kind enough to be there at the wedding to help me through an awkward situation. That's it." He looked down at his shoes. His voice was thick when he spoke again "Listen, you uh, you don't have to go tonight if you don't want. I can just take you back home."

Sharon paused in thought for a moment. Her lips and brow were slightly pursed and her gaze was directed somewhere in the direction of Andy's left shoulder. "No, Andy, I'll go. I love the nutcracker and if Nicole does happen to want my opinion, I'm happy to give it." She paused, still weighing all that he had said. He recognized when she made her final decision about what to say next, her posture shifted slightly and she barely nodded to herself. She looked at him and continued, "I forgive you, Andy. And I am still your friend."

She saw the tension leave his shoulders as he exhaled and the look of gratitude in his eyes made her heart clench; Andrew Flynn was a man unaccustomed to being forgiven. He'd been exonerated many times, yes, but being forgiven was different. In that moment, she knew that her forgiveness would not be taken for granted. It meant something to him. Unexpected emotions began to swirl within her. She looked down before tears could form in her own eyes then realized why he'd come out without a tie on. She pointed at the blue tie in his right hand, "That one."

Andy looked down at his hands, slightly confused by the sudden change in topic. Then, he realized what she was talking about and stammered, "Oh, uh, yeah, okay. I'll- I'll be right back." He disappeared down a short hall but quickly returned with the tie Sharon had indicated in place. He glanced at his wristwatch then nodded toward the door, "We'd better get going. Nicole said she'd meet us out front while Dean holds our seats."

Sharon nodded and moved toward the front door but she stopped him with a hand on his forearm before he could open the door. "Andy, maybe you should save the confession for your next counseling session." He gave her a questioning look as she explained, "The last thing Nicole needs this evening is more drama. Let the boys have their big night. Be civil to Trish and be there for your daughter and her new family. That's all." Sharon gave Andy a small but hopeful smile with the last comment.

Andy nodded. "That's a good idea. I'll save it for Monday night. Thank you, Sharon. Really, thank you, for everything."

She gave him an awkward nod and turned, ready to leave. Andy briefly placed his hand on the small of Sharon's back and guided her out the door.

By the time she pulled into her own parking space in her building's garage Sharon had a name for what she felt- regret. She decided that she wouldn't wallow in the feeling, she allowed herself only the time it took to get from her car to the building's lobby to feel it. Really, what did she have to regret? Andy had someone special in his life. Good for him. After all, she had never really been available. Judging by the distance Andy had been keeping lately and the events she'd witnessed not an hour earlier, she doubted he'd ever actually been interested.