Chapter 3

Sharon opened the door to her apartment, sweat rolling off down her forehead that she wiped away with the back of her hand. She turned to shut the door as silently as she could and walked over into her kitchen for a glass of water. She heard rustling in the next room, and she heard Rusty's door open. She sighed lightly with defeat and sat down with her glass at the dining room table still panting. She took a drink and looked up at Rusty as he walked by her to the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you," she apologized.

"You didn't," he replied, reaching into the cupboard for a glass "I was already awake. Couldn't sleep." He turned to the fridge for milk. "You go running?"

She looked down at her attire, which consisted of sweat covered exercise top, jacket, and yoga pants. Her hair was up, but fallen out of it's lose bun.

"Uh, yea. I couldn't really sleep either," she admitted.

Yesterday Rusty had gone out with his father, and Sharon had yet to ask him how it went. It wasn't the first time they had gone out, and she knew it was unlikely the last, but she couldn't help but feel a bit sadder each time he left. And today, Sharon would be seeing Brenda for the second time, officially. She had been too conflicted between excitement and slight depression to sleep.

Rusty leaned against the counter. "Do you want breakfast?" He asked, noting that he had another hour before he needed to get ready for work.

She grinned. "I would love breakfast," she said with a glee. She sighed, and stood. "I probably smell horrific, so while you're cooking I am going to jump into shower."

"Thanks," he added as she walked back to the bathroom.

.*.*.*.

Sharon set her brush down after running her brush through her wet hair, and looked at herself in the mirror. Her make-up was done as she liked it, and slacks were pressed perfectly as she had ironed them last night. She pulled her blazer over her arms, flipping her wet hair over it. She hated how her hair was always the last thing to get done because of how slow it dried.

"Sharon, breakfast is done," she heard rusty call out. She let out a small breath, knowing she would have to wait to fix her hair, and walked out to the dining room.

Rusty was setting a two plates of pancakes down on the table next to a small plate with butter and syrup. A glass of milk was set by each plate.

"I made pancakes," he said.

"I can see that, thank you," she replied, taking a seat at the end of the table. Rusty sat down beside her, in his normal seat.

"They aren't regular pancakes," he informed her as she began placing the butter on them. She looked up to him with curious eyes.

"How do you mean?" She questioned, now a bit skeptical.

"I don't like regular pancakes so I add cinnamon, nutmeg, and vanilla to them," he explained.

"That sounds different, but amazing," she continued with eagerness now in her voice. She resumed buttering them, and handed the butter to Rusty. She began pouring syrup onto the pancakes. "I know I haven't asked, but how was it yesterday with your father?"

Rusty paused only for a moment, he had been expecting the question. "It was fine."

"Fine?"

"We went to the museum, he just kept talking about his family. When he asked about me, I just froze like I always do. I can't stand it when he asks about me, because I don't want him to know. He can't know about me on the streets… And I don't want to see him, it just hurts more to know that if he knows about my past, he'll be gone just like my mom. You're the only person who doesn't judge me, and I just wish there was a way I could stay."

"Me too," she agreed. She wanted him to stay, not only because she knew it would be best and the less likely for him to relapse. "But until we get reach that point, we can make the best out of the time we have. And even once you leave, you know you are welcome here any time you want even or when you do leave."

He nodded his head, and took a bit of his food. They ate in silence for a few moments, until Sharon realized that Rusty kept looking at her. She hoped it wasn't for the same reason as last week, when she had gotten home from the hotel and he had pointed out that something was "different" about her.

"What?" She asked, tilting her head and looking around.

"Well, I want to ask you something, but I know you'll say no," Rusty began.

"How do you know for certain if you don't ask," she said.

He sighed. "Because I know you."

"Rusty, what is it?"

He set down his fork on his plate. "Look if you say no, I get it. Uh, our drama club wants to take a trip but there are some stipulations."

Sharon lifted her eyebrow. "Such as?"

"Well, one, I don't know how long I will be here for so we aren't doing the trip though the school. Two, all the of parent's pitched in for it and we have more than enough for all of us, and we were wondering if you could come with us. All of the parents know that since it's not through the school, so if it's you, since you're a cop, that takes us, they will let us go."

"How many is 'us', and where is it that you intend to go?"

"Uh, like I said just the drama club, so 5."

"Okay, and where?" She pressed on.

"New York City for a week."

Sharon's face fell, and her hand dropped to the table. "New York City?"

"Yea, but hear me out," he pleaded. She waved her hand, allowing his rant wanting to see what exactly was going on in New York. "We want to go see the different types of theater, not just drama, to see how we can correlate it into acting," he explained his clearly well practiced speech. "So, we were going to see shows of all fine arts areas; Broadway, the Met for an opera, orchestra, ballet, musical theater, and just the sights. I know you like that stuff," he said, throwing his thumb over his shoulder to her wall behind her desk to the paintings. "And we want the experience to witness the best. And there is enough money for us, plus one more if you wanted to invite someone, hotel, plane, and food, and some spending."

Sharon shook her head. "How did you get that much money for all of that?"

"Gavine, the drama club president, his dad is like a billionaire and is paying for it. He thinks it will be a great learning experience for us, and giving us some culture." She could see the excitement in his eyes, and hear it in his voice. "We are scheduling it around my chess tournament, because three of us are in it so I wont miss that."

"When is it this trip?"

"Well, if you agree to go, the end of next month."

She sighed. "I will think about it, and let you know," she said, honestly considering it. It would be nice to get away for while, but she didn't know if she could get that long off.

"Thank you, Sharon," he replied with hope. She nodded, and took the next bite of her pancake.

.*.*.*.

"Sharon?" The sweet Georgia accent rang. Sharon peeked her left eye open and looked at the blonde woman over her pillow.

"Yes?" Sharon said gently barely even speaking at all as she was to lost in the moment. She wouldn't admit it, but it scared her how much she let herself go with at Brenda's side. Scared of how much time flew by, and how less she cared of the world around her.

Brenda's hands smoothed over Sharon's back. "Oh my, your back is tense!" she exclaimed, forgetting why she had originally called her.

"I can't remember the last time it wasn't," she said laughing slightly.

"That's terrible, haven't you ever gotten a message or somethin'?" Brenda wondered.

"I've tried, but they've never worked."

"Well, maybe it just never the right hands," Brenda said with a suggesting tone.

"Oh?"

"Yes, in fact, maybe I should try," she offered. Sharon knew it was unlikely that Brenda could relieve the tension in her back, but she was more than happy to let her attempt to do so.

"I don't see the harm," Sharon agreed. She rolled on to her back, and let Brenda straddle her carefully. She could feel the heat from Brenda pressing against the lowest part of her back, and Brenda's hands pressing firmly on her neck. Brenda's fingertips kneaded at Sharon's neck and down her spine, causing a shiver to roll throughout Sharon's back. She felt her humming softly at her tender touch.

Brenda watched the woman become more and more relaxed as her hands ran across her bare back. Her hums getting fainter with each stroke of her hand, and her eyes slip close without fighting it. It wasn't long until Sharon's breathing completely changed into a shallow and deep exhale. Brenda chuckled lightly, knowing she had fallen asleep.

She looked over to the clock on Sharon's bedside, and saw that they had ten minutes to be back at work. As silent as she could, she opened the side table and was relieved to see a memo pad sitting inside it. She saw the memo on the page it was currently on, 'Call Virginia' written in Sharon's swift cursive. That was all that was on the page, but Brenda couldn't help but feel it was important. She opened the folded memo pad, so both the memo already written and hers could be seen. She pulled the pen from the spiral wire and carefully wrote out her message for her lover. When she finished, she set the memo pad beside Sharon's bedside and picked up Sharon's phone. After sending a quick to Lieutenant Provensa, pretending to be Sharon and lying saying that she hadn't felt good, she dressed.

She stood in the doorway for a moment, debating if she would leave the woman asleep, but she couldn't find herself to wake her when she looked so peaceful. She sighed as her face formed a small smirk, still not believing Sharon had agreed to this affair. She also still found it hard to wrap her head around the fact that Sharon wanted her, something she had never fully considered and now couldn't help but be overwhelmed with glee. She shut the door as quiet as she could and left the apartment back to reality.

.*.**.

"Sharon?" Sharon her voice being called. She groaned and rolled over not wanting to wake. "Sharon, wake up. It's five," she now could make out Rusty's voice as the one calling her. She opened her eyes, and could see daylight pouring in.

She squinted, not understanding how it could be five with daylight. She looked over to Rusty, who was standing a few feet from her bed with his school uniform still on, clearly moving toward her to wake her by force. She realized that it wasn't five in the morning, but at night. She tried to recall the last thing she remember, and that was Brenda messaging her back around noon. Her eyes opened wide, recalling that she was not wearing anything during that and looked down at her bare back carelessly exposed, almost exposing her chest. She grabbed her blanket, covering herself.

"Go," she muttered. He nodded and walked out awkwardly, shutting the door behind him.

She let out a heavy breath, not believing she had allowed herself to fall asleep for four hours, or that Brenda had let her stay asleep. She reached over to her end table for her phone. She found her memo pad out with her phone on top of it. She sat up, and saw the hand written note by Brenda.

'Sharon, you fell asleep and just couldn't bring myself to wake you. Don't worry about work, I text Provensa from your phone saying your weren't feeling well. I hope your back feels better. Love, BJ'

Sharon couldn't help but smile lightly. She grabbed her phone, checking to make sure the message was received. She unlocked her phone, seeing that she had two messages. The first was Detective Sykes asking where she was, and the second was Provensa's response saying that she would be covered for the rest of today. She also saw a missing phone call from Rusty's phone. She slid off of her bed and grabbed her dress from the floor. The navy blue shift dress pulled over her body with ease. She looked into the mirror, fixing her hair and makeup.

She could hear laughter coming from the living room, and she brought her eyebrows together. How had Rusty gotten home from school? She carefully walked out of her bedroom, and walked to the living room.

"Dude, you can't do an southern accent. I'm sorry, but just stop, you're hurting my ears," said an unfamiliar voice. She walked through the hallway and found a young boy about Rusty's age sitting on her couch. He had short dark brown hair that was neatly pushed back with gel, and matching dark eyes. His skin was olive, and his smile wide.

"Hello?" Sharon questioned, causing the young man to look at her. He continued to smile as he stood.

"Nice to finally meet you Captain Raydor, I'm Gavine," he introduced, sticking his hand out for her to shake it.

"Nice to meet you too, though I am curious as to why you are here," she added.

"Uh, I dropped Rusty off because you weren't picking up."

"Oh, yes, well I fell accidently fell asleep. Thank you for giving him a ride."

"It, uh, it was no problem," he said sweetly, glancing at Rusty then down to the floor. "I didn't mind it at all."

Sharon turned her head to the right ever so slightly, catching the boys actions. She nodded, accepting his explanation.

"Thank you anyways," she repeated. He smiled lightly.

"Welcome." He stood, picking his tan messenger bag off the ground. "I should be going."

"Oh, you don't have to," Rusty said, almost begging him to stay. "I mean, Sharon, would you mind if he had dinner with us?"

Sharon, caught off guard, nodded simply. "I guess. It's the least I could do for you bring Rusty home." Not only was it that, but she didn't want to confront Rusty about what all he had seen while in her room just moments ago, not yet anyway.

"Thanks, Captain Raydor. Just let me call my father, and let him know," he said, stepping aside.

Dinner was entertaining, and Sharon couldn't help but catch the small flirtatious gestures that Gavine was giving towards Rusty. By the time Gavine left it was nearly 10pm, and Sharon was exhausted once again. She now remembered exactly why she never took more than a half hour nap during the day, they made her feel worse during the rest of the day than just staying awake.

Rusty leaned over the sink, grabbing a plate to rinse it as he helped her with dishes. He handed the dish to her, and she placed it carefully into the dish washed. She shut the dish washer and leaned against the counter top, starring at Rusty.

"What?" Rusty questioned, feeling awkward with her just standing there looking at him with a smug look.

"He likes you, you know?" She pointed out.

"Who does, Gavine?" He let out a nervous laugh as Sharon nodded. "No, Gavine doesn't like guys…"

"Does he know you are-"

"-No" he cut her off, seeing where she was heading with the conversation. "Why would I announce that to a bunch of people at a Catholic school?"

"Point taken," she conceded. "But I can tell he does. Maybe he is in the same situation you are, but maybe more so. Maybe he can't come out to anyone. Just the way he looks at you. Do you- do you like him?"

Rusty sighed, rested his hand on the edge of the sink, and looked down bashfully. "Yea, I think… I don't really know. Like, I do, but I also really like someone else… But I can't do anything about either of them."

"Why not?" She wondered, wanting him to be truly happy.

"Gavine, if he is gay, is in the closet. His dad would kill him, and I know that… And," his voice dropped. "The other guy is just a lot of reasons why I couldn't." She could tell he didn't want to finish the statement, and she knew better than to press for it.

"I just want you to be happy, Rusty," she told him. He looked up to her with a small smile, he knew she was trying and he knew he could never thank her enough for actually putting an effort into helping him.

"I know. Thanks for being concerned." They walked over to the living room and began talking about their day. He tilted his head, now knowing that he did see something different about Sharon that he hadn't mistaken. He was also curious about the events he had gone through once he arrived home. "Are you happy, Sharon?"

Sharon lifted her right eyebrow. "What do you mean? Happy about what?"

"With…" he hesitated, wondering if he would actually ask her. "With you lover?"

She pulled her head back slightly, taken off guard thought she should have expected a question about him finding her barely covered in her room. She had defiantly not anticipated that sort of question. She let the thought swirl around in her head for a moment before answering, not fully knowing how to answer.

"I want to yes, but it's very complicated," she answered truthfully.

"Complicated how?"

"I love this person, and it scares me to death. I never felt so strongly towards anyone, but when I am with this I am someone I don't recognize myself. It's like I am a completely different person," she elaborated.

He nodded, understanding. "There is more?" He wondered, seeing her uneasy and knowing that there was.

Sharon closed her eyes. She didn't want Rusty to think less of her, but she didn't want to lie to him either. She dropped her head back looking at the ceiling and closed her eyes, not wanting to look him in the eye as she admitted her sin.

"The person I am seeing is married," she confessed.

"What!? You're having an affair!?" He exclaimed, from genuine shock. The woman he had known to play by the rules to a T, breaking one of the most biggest ones.

"I'm not proud of it, Rusty," she said, bring her head back down. "It's stupid, and selfish, and beyond dangerous… And I honestly don't know what I am going to do when it all falls apart, which I know it's going to. I know it is, but I can't stop. I tried and I was miserable. I can't lose this and you at the same time, I just couldn't take it. I'm not that strong."

He could see the worry and fear in her eyes as they refrained from tears. He had never seen her like this, so scared. For the first time he finally saw how much he meant to her.

"You are stronger than you know, Sharon," he told her with a sad look on his face. "Not many people would be able to deal with me the way you have." She smirked weakly.

"That is very true," she agreed with a light chuckle. "Thank you Rusty."

"For what?"

"For not judging me," she admitted, feeling a bit of relive.

"Yea, the former gay child prostitute is going to judge the only person who has ever given a damn about him for having an affair with the person they love, even though she never judged him in the slightest… Because that makes sense," he joked. She laughed again, knowing the facts he stated were true.

She rested her elbow on the top of her couch, and rested her cheek on the knuckles of her hand. "Do you want to go out for ice cream?"

"Am I like five or something?" He asked in all seriousness.

"Is that a no?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No, ice cream actually sounds really good."

She stood. "Get your shoes on. I know the best place in all of LA to get ice cream, and it's open 24 hours."

He got up, and walked to his room. She followed him down the hall to get her shoes and bag from her room. She sat on her bed and watched through her open door into his room as he frantically looked for his misplaced sneakers.

She knew it was inevitable, his leaving, but she now couldn't imagine him not being there. How silent her home would once again become. How alone it would feel. She had moved there only a few years ago when her youngest, Caycee, moved to Seattle for college because she couldn't bare to live in the house she had raise her children in alone. It was to haunting and made her depressed to be there alone. With memories that would never be lingering in each wall. She couldn't help but wonder if that would be the case with Rusty.

They had grown so close, and she had made such progress with him. For him to just be thrown into another unwanted living arrangement seemed absurd, at least to her anyway. She worried about how he would regress into who he was, instead of become the man she knew he could be. It terrified her, but she knew that, if it came down to his father wanting custody, she could do nothing. She just hoped that Rusty understood that he could come over unannounced whenever he pleased, that he was always welcome in her home.

"Found them!" He called out, now flung over the edge of his bed with his right hand supporting him from falling into the floor and the left reaching under the bed for his shoes.

"Good," she replied holding her composer as she always did. It was hard to notice, but she was very often one thread snip away from breaking down. She put on her mask, not wanting Rusty to see how sad she was, and walked out of her room flinging her bag over her shoulder. "Let's go."

A/N: Yes, this is a very Rusty/Sharon centric story, but for reason. How was I suppose to write this from Sharons POV and not included it… There will be more of their mother/son-ish relationship down the road, but it has two paths at the moment (both leading in the same general direction, it just depends on the season finale [aka whether or not Rusty stay's at Sharon's or moves with his father]). I know the conversation seem a bit out of character (esp Sharon admitting to Rusty she is having an affair), but she needed to tell someone and she hates lying to Rusty (because she figures he has been lied to enough in his life), but she is not going to willingly tell the whole truth either (that it is with Brenda). Also, there is some things in this setting up for later chapters. Warning, lots of fluff and smut in the next chapter…