"You can put the liquor on the kitchen counter," she told him as Andy walked toward her kitchen table. He eyed the condo; it was neat and tidy, colorful, and tastefully decorated. It was odd to be here, in her personal space, but he continued to walk until he reached the table. He glanced around, seeing the kitchen there and moved to put the bags on the counter like she'd asked. He turned to find her over at her desk collecting a legal pad and her briefcase.
"Please have a seat, Lieutenant," Sharon said crisply. "Let me get my paperwork, and we can get started." Andy watched as she collected her things. She was very matter of fact and didn't even glance his way as she spoke. He pulled out a chair and almost fell into it, the exhaustion of the week hitting him. He let out a rather loud sigh as he did and instantly found his elbows on the table with his head in his hands. He sat like that until he heard Raydor pulling out a chair to sit herself. He looked up and found her in the chair across from him. He noticed pictures hanging on the wall behind her, pictures of her kids. He finally met her gaze as she got situated and pulled her sweater closed again. He raised an eyebrow at her.
"I'm just noticing-did I wake you? Are you in your pajamas? Look, I was really just looking for Jack with the plan to let you know where you could find me tomorrow to do the write-up for my file. I know it's late. I'll be on my way with my bottles, and I promise I'l sign whatever you need me to sign."
"I'm up now," she pursed her lips, and then, he noticed she didn't have any makeup on either. Her long hair fell around her face, almost shielding her face from him as she leaned over to write. She wrote something on the paper, and when she looked toward him, their eyes met, and she gestured at him. "Let's get a little background," she said as she continued to write. He watched her for a moment, and then, she looked at him. Sharon nodded to him, "You've been sober a long time, over a decade, yes? I know a person can fall off the wagon at any point. What is the reasoning tonight? I should have that for my report because I'm guessing it's from a case?"
"Yeah," Andy sighed. "Look, really? Can't I just sign something?"
Sharon cleared her throat as she looked him in the eye, "We are going to go with the concept involving if you do the crime, you do the time. Your time, so to speak, starts with running through all of this with me. Let's begin," she said in a flat tone.
"Right, sooner we finish, sooner I can be on my way, unless will let me just start my drinking here. I promise I'll call a cab and not drive," he raised his hand in defense.
"As long as you are in my home, there will be no alcohol," she raised an eyebrow. "That's not a request, Lieutenant," she frowned slightly.
"You drink, I presume?" Andy challenged her.
"I'm not an alcoholic; you are. Same rules applied to Jack," she told him. "Go on." Before he said anything more, he started to dig in his jacket pocket. She eyed him again as she sat back and crossed her arms, "You can take off your coat, Lieutenant," she told him too. He gave a small nod at her and held up his hand quickly before he went back to digging. He pulled out a toothpick and plopped it in his mouth.
"If I can't have a drink at the moment, I'll chew on this," he said.
"Hmm, I've seen you with those before. I didn't realize it was your nervous habit."
"Not nervous, just my replacement for alcohol," he smirked. Sharon leaned forward and jotted something down on her notepad before she sat back and gestured fo him to continue.
"If you are ready, let's discuss your trigger tonight," she said.
"Gracie," he blurted. "It was this case. I'm sure you heard about it."
"Commissioner's wife hitting a college girl, killing her," she nodded. "Yes, I saw it. I briefly read through it. I knew Major Crimes was covering it."
"I was first on the scene," Andy explained. "Gracie," he repeated and sighed. "That was her name. I was first on the scene because we were both driving down the road. She was in the left lane. I remember glancing her way, giving her a nod, and she smiled at me," he hummed at the memory. "Instantly, she's being run over by that lunatic, and I'm throwing the car to the side of the road so I can help her. She looked at me before she died. I can still see her face. Head trauma-she died," he dropped his head into his hands. "That's on me."
"You were not the one drinking at that time. That's on the drunk driver," she said.
"Right, everyone can shift blame. I know it's messed up that I want to drink after watching a drunk driver kill a girl, but I can't even explain it," he sighed. "I'm just at rock bottom. The case got to me."
"Drinking will not bring her back," Sharon said, hoping he would look at her. He didn't. He shook his head. "You are the only person who can control your own life. Anything you have done to rebuild things since becoming sober, well," she paused, "you could potentially ruin all of that. Any progress you've made in personal relationships-with your family-kids, anyone-you can ruin it with your pity party tonight. I'm not going to stop you from drinking but go into it knowing the consequences."
"Yeah," he threw his hand in the air, frustrated, "No real progress with my family. Look, I know you are trying to talk me out of drinking. Can we just do your paperwork so I can go and drown my sorrows?"
"Back to the case," she said as she leaned forward to jot something else down on her notepad. Andy watched her, and when she eyed him, she nodded to him, "Go on. I can listen and write."
"Case is just a bad one. Seeing a drunk hide it from her family, that got to me, reminded me of what I did, but this time, I'm just being open and honest. I'm going to drink, and no one can stop me. It's on me, my decision. I'm nothing like the commissioner's wife. She hid it from the world. I even came to drink with Jack. I'll be fine, just not on the wagon anymore," he grumbled.
"So, to clarify, you plan to drink, get drunk," she specified, "and you have no intention of getting sober again, at least not after tonight? You plan to continue drinking, thinking it's on you to do whatever you want?"
"Yup," he said, smacking his lips and nodding. "We done?"
She ignored the comment, "Perhaps the case bothered you so much because Gracie reminds you of your own kids, specifically your own daughter. She was a college student, not much younger than your daughter, correct? I know our kids are similar ages; we're similar ages, and I remember reading about your family in your file. Have you considered this is just getting to you because it's hitting too close to home? You could have been the drunk driver, of course, years ago, who hit a kid, one much like your own. Gracie had her whole life in front of her, as do your kids."
Sharon stood, and he watched her walk over to her kitchen counter. He just dropped his head, silent, and he stayed like that while he heard her moving around in her kitchen. Andy didn't look over at her; he didn't know what to say. While he'd thought a lot about this case, about why it bothered him so much, he hadn't considered the parallel to his family. It seemed simple, but he hadn't exactly been thinking rationally the last few days. He wasn't sure how long his mind had wandered, but he smelled something and looked up to see a cup of coffee being put down in front of him.
"As I said, no liquor in my house while we are doing your statement. This is the only beverage you can have here right now," she nodded and walked around to her seat, a matching cup in her hand. She glanced to him as she sat down again, "Decaf in case you were wondering."
"I'm really not thirsty or interested in coffee," he sighed, giving her a look. "I just want to finish, to get out of here. Now, I'm regretting even trying to involve Jack. It's not like we were close, but he was always there, always at the bar when I was back in the day."
"Hmm, yes, I'm aware," she nodded, sipping her coffee. Andy just watched, and when she put the cup down, she made another note on her paperwork. "We're almost done."
"It's not like a drunk is a new thing to you," he added. "It can't bother you too much. You're married to one."
"Anything else about Gracie?" Sharon asked.
"You know he was the reason I didn't get totally screwed over in my divorce, right? It's not like I had a lot of money for a good lawyer, I mean," he rolled his eyes and gestured with his hands before he continued. "Jack is a good lawyer, but back in the day, way, way back in the day, you know he handled my divorce, right? That's how we first me. We had chatted at the bar several times until Sandra finally threw me out. I mentioned that to Jack, that she was divorcing me, and he offered to help. I think he charged me some ridiculously low fee," Andy chuckled, shaking his head. "He said I could do some of the payback in drinks. Anyway, he couldn't do much to really change my divorce, but at least he got me decent visitation with my kids. I've paid every dime and more they have needed, but they don't seem to think it's enough."
"Yes, Jack has always been such a stand-up attorney," she said, her tone harsh now. Andy glanced at her, but she leaned over her notepad and wrote down something else. "Obviously, you two haven't kept up your buddy bond."
"Nah, we went our own ways for the most part, I mean, after I decided to get sober. He disappeared, and I just thought he was home getting sober too. I'd heard rumors he had left town, but I'd also heard that you two were still married. I figured they were just rumors."
"Let's look at facts in your case here since rumors don't help anyone," she glanced at him.
"What else you do want to know?" Andy asked, sighing. He sipped his coffee and looked at her as she continued to write.
"Are you planning to go to work at all tomorrow, or rather, later today?" Sharon asked.
"Not if I'm as wasted as I want to be," he huffed. "Provenza will check on me later. Honestly, I have no idea if I'll show for work the next few days. I'm done, and with the holidays here," he shook his head. "Nope."
"Plans for the holidays?" Sharon looked at him over the rim of her glasses as she continued to write. "Drowning yourself in a bottle is not an acceptable answer. Is your division on call?"
"Ahh, no, not Christmas Day, but we go back to work on the 26th," he told her in a matter of fact tone.
She nodded and gestured to him, "Plans then for Christmas?"
"The last few years, my kids and I have gone to a movie Christmas Day, in the afternoon," he explained. "They have a big meal with their mother, stepfather, and all of that family around 1:00 or so, and then, around 5:00 or 6:00, they go to the movies with me."
She gave a small smile, "That's good, and that has continued even though they are adults? I mean, as children, minors," she specified, "I realize they might have had court ordered time, visitation," she gestured, "with you. This is a tradition you still keep?"
"Ahh, yeah," he said with a confused look, "it actually didn't start until my younger one, my son, was in college."
"Okay," she nodded quickly and sat back for a moment to look at him. "You are going this year?"
"I guess," he shrugged. "My son sent me a text last week, which is a rarity," he rolled his eyes. "It said to check out a movie trailer. I guess he wants to see it."
"I'm sure they will be disappointed if you show up drunk," she eyed him. "That, though, isn't my call, just my own experience. I mean," she rolled her eyes slightly, "I've seen that disappointment in my own kids. Just at least," she met his gaze, "think about sobering up on Christmas Day when you see them. I think there are more people than you realize who would like you sober."
"Are we done yet?" Andy asked, looking at her. She pursed her lips and nodded, checking the time.
"It's now after 3:00," she said.
"I've got an hour drive home," he said, sighing. "If we are done, I'm going to go home and drink myself to sleep."
"Your choice," she shrugged as she stood. "If you were a guest, I'd clean your coffee cup, but since you're not, you have to wash and dry it before you go. The dishwasher isn't an option for you. When was the last time you had a meal, a real meal?"
Andy stood and sighed, rolling his eyes as he watched her put her own coffee cup in her dishwasher. She turned back to him as he was trying to remember. He shook his head, "I don't know, maybe yesterday at lunch."
She nodded and walked to her refrigerator. He watched her pull out a container and gesture toward him, handing it to him, "Here. Sit and eat. If you are that exhausted and haven't eaten, you won't get very far with your bottle."
"I'm fine," he waved it off.
"Lieutenant this, like the rest of the evening, is not a request," she stated.
Andy popped another toothpick into his mouth, and Sharon looked at him, surprised, "Are you a beaver or something? How many of those have you had?"
"Maybe five since I've been here," he gave a small shrug. "I kinda chew on them until they start to fall apart."
"Well, sit and eat-it's real food, not a wooden toothpick," she grimaced.
He eyed her again, "What is it? Can you cook?"
She smirked, "Do you have any other offers? Of course, I can cook. Now, whether or not I enjoy cooking is another story. Eat," she said, and he sat again, raising his hand in defense. "Look, if you eat, you can sign your paperwork and be on your way."
"I'm a vegetarian," he said quickly.
"Tuna?" Sharon asked.
"I'd eat tuna, but I just don't really like it," he stated. She pointed to the container.
"Tonight, you do-you'll eat tuna and noodle casserole before I let you go drink yourself into an oblivion," she nodded and grabbed his coffee cup. He was about to protest, but he saw her refilling it.
"I'm not thirsty," he grumbled to her.
"You already said that," she said, bringing the cup back to him. "Eat."
"Cold?" he asked.
"You just told me you are at rock bottom and don't remember your last meal. I think that's the least of your problems, so yes, cold. Eat, sign, and go," she nodded. Sharon gathered her paperwork and walked back across the room to her desk. She leaned over to sign something, he noted. Andy turned back and quickly stuffed the noodles in his mouth. They didn't taste like much of anything, just cold noodles. He wanted to get out of there quickly. Soon, he finished, and he saw that she was now sitting at her desk, across the room, hands folded, watching him eat.
"I'm guessing I have to bus the table as well?" Andy asked as he stood. She gave a single nod and turned to look out onto her balcony. Andy sighed and walked to the sink where he cleaned the container as well as his coffee cup.
"You're free to go, Lieutenant," she said. "My paperwork is in order," she told him from the other room. He walked around the corner toward her to sign the forms. She was now standing at the door.
"I guess you need me to sign this top form," he said, walking to her desk where he saw the same paperwork she'd had at the table. He leaned over to sign it himself and looked to her swiftly.
"It's a grocery list," he stated, pointing at it. "Where's my paperwork?"
"You've done nothing wrong, YET," she emphasized, glaring at him. "You did bother, almost harass, an FID Captain, but that's not something requiring further action. Just go home now, and when you don't show tomorrow, I'll type out your statement from what you told me tonight. I need groceries," she shrugged. "I can listen and write out my list at the same time."
"I thought we were doing this now to save the trouble," he said, slightly irritated. "Seriously, you wrote out a list in the middle of the night?"
"It's no trouble, Lieutenant, not for me. I'll just be doing my job, and, ahh," she flashed a fake smile, "now we are acknowledging it's the middle of the night," she said with a slight smirk to her face. "You'll be the one in trouble, but right now, you haven't caused a problem. Now, I'd like to get a few hours of sleep before morning." Sharon gestured to the door, and she opened it. "Good luck tonight," she said.
He nodded and walked to the door, but as he was about to step out, he looked back at her, "My bottles are on the counter."
"Yes," she nodded. "That's where they will stay. If you desire a drink so much, go buy more, but you brought those here, and I'm not letting you leave with them. You are fully capable of buying more tonight."
He frowned and then looked to her, "I can't have my bottles, but you aren't going to stop me from drinking?"
"Nope," she said, mimicking his same comment from earlier. "It's late, and work will be here before we know it. I'll see you tomorrow, Lieutenant, one way or another."
"Don't plan on it," he said as he started down the hall. Sharon watched until he rounded the corner to the elevator and then closed her door.
"I don't plan on seeing you tomorrow," she sighed. Sharon shook her head, walked back to the kitchen, where she found his dishes washed and sitting on the counter. He'd had two cups of coffee and eaten a full container of leftovers. She started to chuckle at the idea of cold noodles and then grimaced. Sharon glanced at the bottles on the counter and sighed. Liquor was not her thing. It was Jack's thing, making it even more revolting to her. The kids didn't like liquor either for many of the same reasons. Sure, they all enjoyed beer or wine, but not liquor. It was a shame, in some ways to let it go to waste. She started to pour it all down the drain. He hadn't opened it, and she paused before she did anything. She nodded to herself. Her neighbors down the hall-an elderly couple- they were always sweet at the holidays. They always made fruitcake and brought some to Sharon. She never had the heart to tell them she hated fruitcake, but she knew they enjoyed different drinks. She'd give it to them. They could enjoy it; an alcoholic could not and would not, not on her watch.
