Notes: Thank you for your comments on the first chapter! I want to say, again, that this isn't a Shandy story but I want to be fair to both Sharon and Andy here.
Crossroads
Chapter II: Monday
There was something about Mondays.
The sort of Mondays that followed a terrible week were the best sort of Mondays.
Sharon liked the freshness they brought, the sense of waking up well-rested and beginning again. A full night's sleep was sometimes a luxury. She liked best the ones when she woke before her alarm, and had a few quiet moments to herself, to revise the to-do lists that she composed in her head.
The lists were soothing too. She liked the satisfaction of crossing things off one by one, and she'd accomplished everything she'd meant to that weekend. The bathroom was clean, the laundry was done, she'd finally taken care of the dry cleaning piling up in her closet, and there were groceries in the kitchen.
There was distance between her and the grief of last week. She'd stopped dwelling on Ginny and Chandler Ryan, and Sharon Beck hadn't done anything reckless in her first few days as a free woman. She knew better than to hope that would last forever, but in the meantime, Rusty was okay.
She'd even managed to squeeze in a quick dinner with Andy the night before. It would have been nicer if they'd had time to linger, but he'd been expected at Nicole's in time for a movie night before the kids went to bed so they'd had to make it fast. It had been a warm evening. They'd had salad and gazpacho out on her balcony. They'd talked as they ate. He'd made her laugh. She'd enjoyed herself.
And yet.
There was... something. Something that she knew she wanted to be feeling, but wasn't. Yet.
Sharon closed her eyes again. That je ne sais quoi would come in time. It had been awhile (more than awhile, really) since Jack, and none of her relationships before him had been all that serious. Still, she remembered how these things went in the beginning. There was that period of nervous uncertainty, which she hated. That was the price that had to be paid for the parts that she enjoyed, the slowly deepening intimacy of conversations and the careful exploration of someone else's heart and soul.
She needed to remember that, because otherwise, she was so unsettlingly aware of everything as this friendship with Andy evolved into something else.
She shifted in bed, wiggling until her neck rested on the pillow just the way that she wanted it to.
The phone rang a split second after her alarm went off.
Sharon stretched one arm out to the side as she reached for it without turning her head. She set it in the same place on her nightstand every night to charge. The alarm silenced as she answered.
"Good morning, Lieutenant."
"Captain." Provenza hadn't been brought his coffee yet; his voice was still low with sleep. "Hope I didn't wake you."
He knew he hadn't. "It's all right," she said. "I was awake. What do we have?"
It wouldn't be an emergency, if he'd waited to call until after she was awake.
"Looks like another burglary," Provenza told her. "Only this one went sideways. Husband and wife dead. Neighbor called it in. Sykes is talking to her now."
"That was Robbery-Homicide's case, wasn't it?"
"Yeah," he said dryly. "And now it's our case."
"Ah." Sharon closed her eyes. "Do you have things under control, Lieutenant?"
"Take your time," he said. "Have some breakfast. Maybe take a morning stroll. We'll be here awhile."
"I'll meet you back at the office, then," she said. "Call me if you run into any problems."
There was a knock on the door connecting her room to the bathroom as soon as she hung up. Sharon turned over onto her side, sighing. "Come in," she called. "It's all right."
Rusty opened the door, but didn't step inside. He rarely did. "Oh," he said, freezing when he saw her still in bed. "I thought I heard you on the phone."
"I was awake," she reassured him. "What's up?"
"Are you in a hurry?" he asked. "Did you get a case?"
"We did," she said, studying him. He hadn't been awake long. There was a pillow mark still on his cheek, and his hair was a mess. "But I'm not in a hurry. What did you need?"
"A shower." He rubbed sleep from his eyes. "I didn't want to turn on the water if you were still asleep."
"Well, thank you for that," she said, smiling at him. There was a reason he was supposed to shower at night, before she went to bed. "You shower. I'll make breakfast for both of us."
"You sure?"
"There are some perks to being the boss," she said. "Go."
She put extra cheese in his eggs and made him an extra slice of bacon. There was a conversation they were overdue for, and he was receptive to bribery... Besides, it was his first day of classes. She'd always liked giving her kids a little treat on the first day of school.
She was buttering the last slice of toast when Rusty wandered into the dining room. His hair was wet and he was barefoot, but he was dressed in jeans and a white t-shirt and looked relatively alert.
"Hey," she said. "I hope you're hungry."
He made a face at her and yawned, so Sharon smiled and set his plate in front of him without saying anything. She'd let him wake up a little more.
"Eat," she said, and went back to the kitchen for her tea.
Two slices of toast and half a glass of orange juice later, he remembered to thank her for breakfast.
"You're welcome," she said, studying him over the rim of her mug. Now was the time. "What are you doing after school?"
"I dunno." Rusty reached for a slice of bacon. "There's one book I still need to buy—no no, I know, Sharon, but like, the professor, he only emailed the syllabus to us last night and—" He calmed down when her mouth turned up into a smile. "But like, the lines are gonna be really long today so I might do that tomorrow instead."
"Will they be any shorter then?"
"I dunno," he said again. "Maybe."
Sharon doubted that, but she supposed as long as he got the book before the next class meeting... and it gave her an opening. "Well," she said evenly. "Since you have some free time this afternoon, why don't you give TJ a call?"
Rusty stopped eating. "Sharon."
"Look," she said. "I don't know everything that happened between the two of you, but you didn't treat him the way that you should have, and I know you feel badly about that. Right?"
"Well... yeah, but—"
"So," she pressed on, because she knew he wanted to justify his way out of it and they didn't have all day.
"Have you given any thought yet to how you might phrase your apology?"
Rusty's shoulders slumped.
"You do know you have to apologize."
"No," he said. "Yeah. I mean, I know."
"Okay," she said. That was a start. "I'll help you. Do you have a clear idea of where you went wrong?"
"Yeah." Rusty fidgeted, turning a crust of toast between his fingers. "I was a jerk to him. And he thinks I used him. And took advantage of him. And like, he was still really nice to me. He was mad, but he still showed up to make sure Gus wasn't dangerous... Oh." He gave her a guilty look. "I think he's mad too that I let Gus think that Mariana was alive, and... Can't I just say I'm sorry I was a jerk? It kind of covers everything."
"That can be your opening," she said. "He might appreciate you owning up to the specifics."
"I don't know about that," Rusty said. "He sounded pretty clear about not wanting to hear from me again."
"It's up to you to apologize," Sharon said. "It's up to him to decide if he wants to accept it. Say you're sorry, but don't hound him. If he wants to talk to you, he will."
"What if he doesn't?" His voice was smaller now, and he stared at his plate.
"Then... at least you'll know that you tried to make things right," she said. It was the best she could offer him. "And next time, you'll know how to do better."
"Maybe."
"You don't think so?"
"It just feels like—I don't know." Rusty shrugged. "Like every time I get close to someone, something happens."
She frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Nothing." Rusty pushed his empty plate away and stood. "I gotta finish getting ready, okay?"
"Okay," she allowed.
At least he put his plate in the dishwasher before he ran off.
Sharon leaned back slightly in her chair and sipped at her tea. She wasn't entirely sure that Rusty understood that friendship was a learned skill like anything else, and that he wasn't really doing so badly. He'd started later than his peers but he'd get there, she was sure of it.
She was just finishing her tea when her phone rang again. Lost in her thoughts as she was, the sudden vibration against her thigh made her jump. Sharon pulled the phone out from the pocket of her robe, pausing to smile at the name that flashed across the caller ID before she answered and even though Rusty was away and down the hall, she lowered her voice before speaking. "It's good to hear from you."
"Yeah, uh—you too." She could tell from the timbre of Andy's voice that this wasn't a personal call. "How are you?"
Sharon set down her tea. "What's the matter?"
She heard him sigh. "Listen, we have a little problem with the witness."
"What kind of problem?"
"She could be a killer."
Sharon frowned. "Well, that's not unusual."
"No," Andy said. "Not the killer. Different case, about twenty years back. Tao worked the scene when he was with SID. Her name rang a bell."
"Oh." Sharon rubbed her forehead with her free hand. "That does complicate things."
"Tell me about it."
"Okay," she said. "I'll be there soon as I can—have someone find the file from the first murder—"
"Disappearance, technically," he said. "Body was never found."
She didn't like the sound of that, either. Sharon always wanted to wrap her cases up as neat and tidily as she possibly could. Already there were too many loose ends for her comfort.
"Disappearance, then," she said. "Advise her—what's the name of our witness?"
"Uh..." There was a pause. "Marks. Jennifer Marks."
"Please advise Ms. Marks of her rights and bring her downtown. I'm on my way now."
"Got it." Another pause. "I'll... see you soon, I guess."
"See you soon," she said, and hung up.
Then, sighing, she downed the rest of her tea in one gulp and headed down the hall. The bathroom door was locked. She knocked. "Are you dressed?" When Rusty took longer than two seconds replying, she knocked again, sharply. "Rusty?"
"Yeah," he called.
"May I come in?" She hadn't foreseen the need for two bathrooms, but at least she had two sinks.
More silence.
"Rusty."
"Yes," he finally called. "Sure. Whatever."
He was staring intently at his reflection when she opened the door, combing his bangs at very precise angles.
"What's the big deal, anyway?" he grumbled, clearly unhappy that she'd barged in. Rusty was particular about his hair. It had taken six months of carefully worded inquiries before he'd let anyone touch the too-long hair he'd come to her with, but even right from the beginning, he had showered and shampooed it at least once a day. "You said you weren't in a hurry."
"I am now."
"What about all those perks of being the boss?"
"Mm," she said, pointing him towards the door. "There are also drawbacks."
"Obviously."
She tried not to smile too much when he huffed at her. "Five minutes," she promised, with a more insistent shooing motion towards the door.
He went, complaining all the way, but he did go, and left Sharon to take the world's quickest shower.
Times like these were why she liked to plan her outfits the night before, when she didn't have to rush and could take the time to make sure she looked the way that she wanted to. It was also why she liked to keep certain staples in her wardrobe. There was no red dress that wouldn't pair with a black blazer. She just wished it were cool enough to wear the boots Emily had gotten her last Christmas. They were so much more comfortable than her heels.
She was drying her hair when she heard Rusty in the hall. "Shaaaaron. You said five minutes."
There were some things she didn't miss about teenagers. But she was dressed, and she'd rather share the bathroom with him than listen to him whine from the other side of the door while she did her makeup.
She set down the blow dryer. "You can come in."
"Finally."
There was no heat in his glare, though, and he went back to his hair without further comment. He was wearing a blue plaid over the t-shirt now, and there were shoes on his feet.
Hiding a smile, Sharon reached for her tube of primer. She'd mastered the art of speedy makeup application decades ago, when stepping away for more than two minutes meant she'd return to find Ricky and Emily "ice skating" across the kitchen floor with butter on their feet. It was a skill that had come in handy countless times since then.
She checked herself after to be sure her eyes looked right (Emily always teased her about wearing too much eye shadow, but Sharon liked the dramatic effect) and fluffed her hair a few times.
"Okay," she said, touching Rusty's shoulder. "I have to go. If I'm not back in time, go ahead and eat dinner without me."
He glanced at her in the mirror, but continued agonizing over the precise placement of every hair on his head. "Okay."
"Have a good first day of school."
"Okay," he said. "I will."
"Call TJ," she said. "I mean it."
"Okay."
"Text him, whichever. Just do it." She smoothed his collar before she took her hand away. "You look very nice. Blue brings out your eyes."
He wrinkled his nose—she wasn't the person he wanted to hear that from, clearly—but it got a half-smile out of him despite the eyerolling that followed, and he mumbled a thank you.
Ducking out of the bathroom, Sharon went to get her shoes and her purse. She spied the boots in her closet when she opened it to grab her heels, and she wished again that she could wear them. She was almost tempted to, in spite of the heat. She had a feeling that it was going to be a long day.
