The response to this fic was overwhelming! Thank you all so much - it is so appreciated. I hadn't intended a second chapter, but by popular demand I can't resist. So here it is.

As always, let me know what you think, and enjoy!

Pu: "unworked wood, simple; natural; root, origin"

The morning did not bring the answers she was looking for, but mercifully her sense of comfort in her space was lasting and genuine. This was home, even if the coffee table book was new and the family pictures somewhat changed. She spent the morning igniting her senses, a trick the doctor had suggested for triggering more memories; the smell of her shampoo, the spritz of her current perfume, and the ambience of the half-burned candle in her bedroom all created an assault on her senses. It wasn't so much that a montage of her life started flashing before her eyes, but small habits and inherent knowledge was feeling more natural; was coming to the surface more readily and without prompting.

She brushed out her hair in the bathroom and gave herself a smile in the mirror.

Her housemates were both up and about when she finally decided to start the day fully.

She was spared the search of a mug by Andy; when she emerged from her room and came to the kitchen a mug with a dry teabag was waiting by the kettle. The suspicious way Rusty was eyeing it told her it wasn't his doing. Was this habit a regular one of theirs, she wondered; was she now the late sleeper when she used to wake with the dawn? And the assumption that she would want a green tea first in the morning - just because it was accurate didn't mean it was appropriate.

She chided herself for being so grumpy about everything Andy did. There was evidence enough around the place (perhaps too much evidence) that she was giddily happy with her current life; there was no reason to sour it all with a constant litany of glass-half-empty complaints.

"Good morning" she said to both Andy and Rusty with a smile. They were sitting at the table both eating a bowl of cereal, watching her with a mix of wariness and hope. She ran her hand over Rusty's hair to soften the rather clinical greeting; to reassure him in a way, as she knew he needed. The last thing Sharon wanted was for Rusty to start distrusting this place again, not now that he was finally a true member of the family. Andy just smiled at her over the table, maybe a little bit disappointed but not at all resentful that he wasn't her first priority.

"Do you want me to stay home?" asked Rusty, no lead-in, just direct and to the point.

She smiled at him. "No honey. You go to your classes. You've already missed a couple of days and I don't want you falling behind"

He looked sceptical, but he also knew she wouldn't stand for him missing out on any more school, regardless of her health situation. She could take care of herself, after all. Even if she still didn't know where her own crockery was stored, she could easily find out. And her concussion was recovered enough that she had been cleared for being at home. She couldn't drive yet - an appointment in a couple of days would determine that - but she didn't need her baby to be a babysitter.

"I'm sure" she added, in response to the incredulous look on his face. "Besides, I'll have Andy here to help me"

She looked a little uncertain of herself as she said it - trying to put on a brave front for her son even as last night came back to her mind, the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, the physical proximity feeling strange and awkward. (She had fallen asleep chastising herself for sitting rigid at his side like a prom date at the cinema; she barely even remembered the film for all her concentration of every point of contact between them.) Andy didn't say anything, just watched the exchange with a mouth full of food, forgetting to chew for a moment as he assessed the attitude of the room.

Rusty still looked sceptical. Sharon looked nervous. Neither of them looked like they were going to comment on the other's mood. If it wasn't so damn uncomfortable it might have been funny.

There was no question of course that Andy would stay with her - she was his boss and therefore she had been informed that he took personal leave to make sure she had someone around during her concussion recovery. She wasn't supposed to be alone, and he was the only one in a position (or with the inclination) to spend all day with her. She was a bit nervous about being left home with him; not because he was overstepping in anyway, but because she didn't want to further upset him with her discomfort. She was still annoyed at herself for feeling that way - she had nerves, for sure. Like a goddamn teenager, and it was infuriating.

It was strange - she had butterflies over that fact that she didn't have butterflies when she was around him. The anticipation of what wasn't there was as acute as it would have been with all her mind in tact. She felt overly aware of herself - monitoring how often she watched him or touched his arm - trying to gauge if she treated him the way she used to, which in a round-about way made her treat him exactly as she did before. Gentle, but reserved. It was a never-ending cycle of tentative glances and smiles, and she was kicking herself, because after all, wasn't she just telling herself to get a grip and grow up about the whole thing?

"I was thinking a trip to the green grocer you like" said Andy, breaking the silent stalemate. "To pick up some fresh food and get out of the house for a bit"

She smiled at him in agreement. It was a nice idea - public enough to make her comfortable, but intimate enough to bring them closer together. He was really trying; his comment last night about making her remember stuck in her mind. They must have really cared about each other, for him to be so thoughtful about the whole situation. Once again she considered that she might just fall for this Andy after all, regardless of what came back to her. A part of her was still waiting for the other shoe to drop, but then she hadn't been surprised to see his little pile of blankets on the couch when she came out of her room that morning; it was baby steps in the right direction.

"I'm gonna head off" said Rusty, standing and walking his bowl to the kitchen.

"I'm going to make a quick phone call" she said.

Rusty came to stand in front of her. "I'll have my phone on me all day" he said.

She laughed out loud at him, holding his cheek in fondness, her expression full of unbridled love. "Thank you. I'm okay. I love you." She kissed his cheek and pulled him in for a hug, and then pulled away and nudged him towards the door, sensing his hesitation. "I'll see you tonight"

"Okay" he said, reluctantly. "I love you too"

And with that he was out the door.

She turned back to Andy, hovering on the spot for a while. (God, you really are pathetic around him, whispered her mind. Was this muscle memory or just the inevitable?)

"I'm just going to quickly make that phone call" she said, not wanting him to think she was running away.

"Take all the time you need" he replied, smiling around his spoon. He betrayed no sadness, no resentment.

Who was this man? She thought back over what she knew of him. This kindness had always been there inside him - wasn't he a sponsor at AA, she thought, and that took a certain personality - but for so long the hallmark of their relationship, even tentative friendship, had been the foundation of animosity. Every visit to The Ovens down at IA had been met with unchecked hostility, even if they always parted company with words that almost classified as flirting. She remembered the times she worked along side him, before being his boss - he had been hot-headed but intelligent, always catching on when she tried to find a loophole for his team to exploit. He had seemed, at least at the time, to gain satisfaction from their quirky dynamic. Just as she had.

Again, she considered that with time and tempering, it made sense that such a relationship would soften around the edges. It wasn't so strange to think their snappy repartee might lose its bite along the way. But romance? Romance still felt far away - she could already feel the beginnings of a crush, no doubt fuelled by intrigue. But it was a far cry from being in a relationship, and with a member of her team no less; she wouldn't take such a choice lightly, not without considerable time to consider everything that came with it. If she knew herself at all she knew that to be true. Though, from what she had gathered they had danced around actual dating for months, maybe even over a year.

Again, she felt a little guilty that she had lost so much of their time together.

She turned and left him at the table, heading to her room to make her phone call. She closed the door gently, so as not to give the impression she was shutting him out.

Gavin answered on the fourth ring this time. "How did you go?" he answered.

She had to respect the efficiency of his phone conversation. She stayed standing and paced slowly around the room.

"It was an okay evening. We just watched some television together"

"Any canoodling?'

She snorted, amused and outraged. "No" she drawled. "It's still… strange. I know him, but not like that"

"Give him a kiss - that might bring back memories"

She rolled her eyes. "According to you that would just be a brand new experience for both of us"

She heard him huff with amusement into the phone. "Not far wrong"

She glared at a spot on her wall, imagining it was Gavin's smug face. "Anyway. I don't know"

"You don't know about him?" He sounded suddenly concerned; back to being that sweet friend she needed to talk to, who cared but wouldn't spare her feelings either.

"I think I can see myself liking him-"

"Well that's good"

She ignored him and pressed on. "- but it's so far from what I know… it's something that just takes time… and I seem to have lost all my time"

For the first time her situation made her distinctly sad - a wave of emotion came over her bringing tears to her eyes. Why was everything else coming back so seamlessly and yet this one thing - this very significant piece of her heart - was blocked from her? Was this what her subconscious wanted - to forget the whole idea of Andy? Or was it just a cruel twist of fate that the first real relationship she had tried since leaving Jack would turn to shit because of a bump to the head?

"Sweetheart, stop being so hard on yourself"

"I'm trying not to be"

She heard Gavin sigh; he had talked her through many of her lowest points over a glass of wine. He could no doubt sense where her mood had gone. "How about instead of focussing so hard on making it work, you just get to know him like you would anyone else?"

She considered that a moment. It sounded good in theory. And they were going shopping later - that would give her a better indication of Andy outside of work. She certainly wanted to remember everything about her relationship with him, just as she remembered with ease the dynamic between everyone else. But one thought kept nagging at her-

"What if I never learn to love him again Gavin? What if a part of me doesn't want to?"

There was a long pause at the end of the line as he thought that over; she could sense Gavin becoming very serious. She had obviously spoken to him in great length about her relationship, so he was no doubt privy to all her ups and downs, fears and hang-ups, and excitement over finding a partner in life again. It must have been a shock to him to hear she didn't want it; not so much didn't want it, because she would never deny herself love, but the thought that she might not fall back in love with Andy was scary. It was an unknown, and she hated those at the best of times. She didn't know what her mind would recall - with every passing moment she was creating memories that didn't feel the way she did just a week ago.

"Can I be frank with you?"

"Please"

She sat on the edge of her bed, bracing.

"You've been scared of this thing for a while"

She breathed out. She closed her eyes, but was disappointed to think that she wasn't surprised. "And?"

"And I don't think your amnesia has anything to do with you running. I think it's just the excuse"

She stayed quiet for a moment, letting that sink in, sucker punched in a way she didn't expect. Perhaps she did want to love Andy. Perhaps - as Gavin was suggesting - her heart was more battered than she gave it credit for, and all this memory business was a neat excuse to push him away; a convenient reason not to risk falling in love again. Maybe she was inclined to give into safe loneliness, despite the fact she would advise anyone else against that. What did that say about her if it was true?

But then, she couldn't very well force herself to love him either, not if it wasn't natural.

She hoped, not for the first time, that she could just snap her fingers and get it all back.

"Gavin?"

"Yes my dear?"

"Do I love him?"

There was another pause at the end of the line. Her eyes remained closed to the world, her pulse pounding in her chest and in her still-tender head.

"I think if you let yourself, you could love him with all your heart" he said quietly, sincerely, with a surety she wished she felt. "It took you a long time to open up after everything, Sharon. Maybe you need to stop worrying about Andy and give yourself permission to do it again"

A single tear slid down her cheek, and she wiped it away forcefully. She sniffed, annoyed because then Gavin would know she was crying, but he was her only shoulder in this and she needed to hear him say it to her. She needed to know the truth.

"The rest will follow" he said. The implication hit hard; that she was already open to loving Andy but standing in her own way was a harsh assessment that she already knew to be true. It was a long road back from Jack - one that she still felt keenly in her bones. Thankfully she remembered that they had divorced, but the emotional conflict felt closer to the surface; more tangible somehow, in the aftermath of her accident. Again, she wondered if her loving Andy was being bared by the feelings she was reliving. It made her think on his dedication to her this last week, which made her uncomfortable because she couldn't return his affection so readily; and back to guilt she went, completing the circle. It was never-ending.

"Just enjoy your day today, and stop trying to be who you think you should be. Just be yourself. She might come out when you least expect it"

It was a good theory - one she had already been trying; going about her daily routine as if nothing was different, and letting her nature take hold. If she thought too hard about it things started slipping, but if she just allowed her mind to rest, little details came back to her without effort.

As if by cosmic timing, a memory of moving the cups and glasses from the bottom cupboard up to the one above the stove flashed in her mind, vivid as if she was holding a teacup in her hand. Another tear slipped out and she smiled at herself. (That wasn't so hard, whispered her mind. The voice was starting to sound disturbingly like her mother.)

"I love you, Gavin, you know that?"

She could practically hear his smile in the phone. "Darling. Everybody loves me"

She laughed at him loudly and bid him quick goodbye, a short enjoy your shopping his final word. She looked at her phone and dwelled just a moment on what he had told her. She dabbed under her eyes, stopping the tears and calming her heart.

God, she really was being foolish in all of this. She knew still waters ran deep, but this was a bit excessive. And just to hit home that point, a little ditty from a musical movie came to mind - the greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love… - and suddenly the depth of emotion she had been caught up in gave way to that familiar sense that she really needed to get over herself. (Listen here Lizzie Bennett, she said to herself with a sarcastic inner-voice. How about you pull your head out of it and-)

She unlocked her phone and went back to the pictures. There was one she had hovered over a little longer last night, and the application was still open to it - her and Andy, of course, sitting side by side. They were at Venice Beach as far as she could tell from the street buskers and sheer number of barefoot people walking in the background. They were perched on a concrete bench, each with an ice cream in hand - she was leaning back, her head thrown in hysterical laughter as Andy leaned into her, his tongue posed to take a great big lick of her cone where it was dripping down her hand. His own ice cream was held out to the side to avoid the same fate.

They looked radiant. She felt like a voyeur for even looking at the picture in the first place, such was the easy intimacy of the shot and the look of delight on both their faces. She felt like an intruder in her own life, especially without the accompanying memory. Neither of them was looking at the camera, yet still it came through just how joyful the moment must have been. The shadow on the ground looked like Rusty, a second shadow standing next to him could be anyone - she guessed it was Gus. (The name had come back to her while watching the film last night, another innocuous moment.)

She wanted to feel that freedom again. She wanted to be the woman in that picture, so open and accepting and ready to take hold of happiness again with this man.

With newfound determination she stood and walked to the door, opening it with purpose and stepping out.

Maybe she didn't remember falling for Andy, but she had to first give herself permission to do so. If they had to rebuild their relationship from the ground up, so be it, but she wouldn't get anywhere if she occupied her mind with what they had been instead of what they could be.

She walked to the kitchen and found him standing by her sink filling the dishwasher with the used dishes from the morning. He looked up and smiled at her when she came around the corner.

"You okay?"

"Just… returning a phone call" she said, gesturing with her phone in her hand, placing it on the bench. "Oh, and I remembered where I put the cups"

He smiled widely at her obvious enthusiasm, sharing in her moment of triumph, and somewhat confirming that he had noticed her lapse. It just reaffirmed to her that this morning's tea had been a way to try and help, and her stomach fluttered again with what she had identified as Sharon's stomach has a bigger crush on Andy than it does on pasta and that's saying something. She stalked to the appropriate cupboard and swung it open with a flourish, victorious to find her glasses and mugs stacked inside. She smiled at him. He clapped five times at her, cheery but maybe mocking her a little bit too, and she allowed the teasing because it felt right.

"Are we still going shopping?" she asked, close the cupboard again.

"If you'd like"

"I would. I'm itching to be out of the house"

He just smiled, as if to say I figured, but didn't embarrass her by saying it; he was getting the hang of just where her line was. She was determined to bring that line just a little closer during the day.

"I should probably check what I need first" she said. She turned on the spot just as Andy finished up with the dishwasher, and she opened the fridge expecting it to be bare. Instead it was stocked - the crisper was not as full of fresh food as she usually had it, but there was fresh milk, cheese, a handful of casserole dishes and a selection of juice. There was also an unopened tub of her favourite yoghurt and a block of chocolate.

She turned and looked at Andy, her eyes wide and beseeching.

He looked a bit sheepish as he answered. "I, ah, went shopping yesterday when we got the call you'd probably come home. In case you weren't up to going out yet. The casseroles are from… well, everyone, I guess"

She closed the fridge absentmindedly, still frankly a little bit shocked.

Good lord this man was head over heels in love with her and she was still standing there deciding if she needed to buy kale or broccoli. The whole moment tied her tongue to badly all she could do was squeak out a pathetic well thank you, before turning back to the fridge and opening it again.

"You're welcome" he said to her back. Even in the awkwardness of that moment his voice sounded warm.

She decided she wanted some fruit. And a nice large tub of ice cream. And definitely a bottle of wine, medication be damned.

She realised she was standing there staring into the fridge for too long, and not only that but given the configuration of her kitchen she was also blocking Andy from getting out of her way. She rolled her eyes right at the intruding yoghurt tub, pulled herself together, and closed the fridge, turning with a congenial smile.

"I think I've got an idea of what I've got now. You ready to go?" she asked, picking up her phone from the bench.

They both studiously ignored how too-cheery her tone was, accepting it for what it was (which was undoubtedly embarrassing and pathetic, but that was all par for the course these days, apparently.)

Andy swung his arm forward, ushering her before him, and she turned and went towards the door. She picked up her handbag and tossed her phone inside, then swung it only her shoulder and opened the front door, barely giving Andy time to collect his phone, wallet and keys from the sideboard and shove them in his pockets.

She walked just a bit ahead of him down the hallway, angling to invite conversation in an effort to get back on the right foot.

"What were the casseroles?" she asked as they reached the elevator.

"Um, there's a shepherds pie, a tuna mornay, and I made an eggplant parmesan"

She hummed. "Your favourite"

His abrupt silence had her looking over at him for a moment. He was watching her, sizing her up. She looked back, at first confused… and then it clicked. Her heart thumped hard, once, right against her sternum.

"Sure is" he said, not even trying to hold back his happiness.

She wasn't sure how she knew that, only that she did, and judging by his reaction it was something learned more recently. Something they talked about when they were together one time, maybe innocuous conversation over dinner, or when he made it for her in the past. It was something that was theirs, for the first time since she got home.

The elevator saved her from answering, dinging just in time. They stepped inside with synchronicity, facing the front rather than each other.

She felt Andy take her hand, squeezing it just once in solidarity, before letting go to respect the unspoken boundary, even though their shoulder nearly touched.

"It's a start" he said.

And because it felt right - and because she was still riding on hope and possibility - she took his hand back and let it stay there, clasped in his like they did this every day. It didn't bring forth any more memories, but a moment of déjà vu washed over her, and Gavin's words came back to her as well.

Maybe she could love this man anyway - regardless of anything else - if she just opened herself to it. If she just - pun intended - took it in hand instead of letting go.

The thought made her smile.