Promises and Pain- Ch 3
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine; James Duff, et al, has that lovely distinction.
A/N: Those scenes with Jack and Sharon were quite powerful. Tag to 3.17. I'm always happy to hear comments of any kind. Hope you enjoy!
A/N 2: Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows. This was supposed to be a one-shot lil chapi. :0)
~~~~~PT~~~~~
[Mourning what she'd lost, knowing it was her own damn fault, she cried herself to sleep. The last thing she smelled before drifting off was Andy. The last words she recalled were I love you.]
She had slept well enough. Despite thinking she wouldn't be able to sleep a wink. She dreamt of her and Andy. Of their years of hostility while she was in IA. The Department changing the name to FID did nothing for their relationship. She was still the enemy to Andy. To all the real cops busting their asses every day, as he had repeatedly told her.
She dreamt of how even their arguments had changed over the years. Still hostile but not as aggressive.
She dreamt of the blossoming friendship she never expected to have developed with him. Not in a million years. It was from that friendship she learned who the real Andy was. Not the hot-headed, ill-tempered Flynn she'd encountered over the years but the kind, protective, justice-oriented, passionate man Andy really was. One just had to get past the hard exterior, the jaded language, to see his heart.
He had let her get beneath his skin. And she paid back his trust with pain. She had hurt him, used him. It occurred to her that if only she had told him the truth, he probably would've let her do it. That she let him think it was something real, that's why the hurt reared up clothed in anger.
When her alarm went off to start the day, the moment her feet hit the floor, she remembered that's where Andy had landed to pick up his clothes. To do as she had asked. To leave. After making love. For the first time together.
She had acted like Jack. He was right. That certainly wasn't a Sharon thing. But it was a Jack thing. Cold, insensitive, selfish. God she felt awful. And in pain. It was small comfort to find the pain solely existed for Andy.
A new day. Time to make things right.
After showering she dressed in her skinny jeans, fitted shirt and boots. He loved this outfit, she knew. It's why she was wearing it. Again forgoing the dryer, she let her hair dry naturally. He preferred when she didn't look perfect. He had teased her one day before a movie together that an imperfect Sharon was something he'd never have thought he'd ever get to see. She thought it silly at the time. Now she understood what he meant.
But an imperfect Sharon could be reckless, could hurt people she cared deeply about, people she loved. Looking in the mirror, she wondered if that was true – if she loved him. Was she ready to admit it?
Grabbing her phone, she dialed Lt Provenza. Waiting for his gruff hello, she grimaced at the harsh yeah she got instead. Reminding him it was just a paperwork day, she quickly informed him she was taking a sick day and he was in charge. Any emergencies, call. He grunted yeah okay and hung up.
Next she text Andy. How are you? I'm sorry. Not like Jack, like me. I'm out today. Please go in. Lt Provenza is in charge.
She winced at his response. I'm fine. Always am. I'm a big boy. Already on my way in.
Deciding to leave well enough alone for now, she went outside for coffee. She wasn't hungry but she definitely needed some caffeine. As she was pouring her first cup, she heard the ping of a text. Andy. You okay? All that spraying make you sick? Air out the place today.
Her eyes misted at the thought of how much he cared about her. He couldn't help himself; couldn't stop himself from worrying about her. Even when he was hurt and angry. Thanks, I will. Used a whole can. Probably too much. He replied quickly. You think.
She left it alone again. They'd talk later. Hopefully.
As she was deciding what to tell Rusty, he came shuffling out to the kitchen. "You're wearing that to work?"
"No, I took a sick day."
"Because you made him leave again?"
"How'd you –? Never mind. It's – it's…"
"Complicated, I know."
"It is."
"Love always is, Sharon."
He took a sip of her coffee be announcing his need for a shower.
"I'm going for a drive," she called after him.
"Be careful."
"Thank you."
Before she knew it, she was in the mountains an hour away from her home. It had taken longer than an hour but that was LA traffic for you. It blows, to quote Andy.
She didn't feel like skiing so she just sat in the lodge, drinking hot chocolate, pretending to read the book she had grabbed at the last moment before leaving.
Her mind only wanted to think about Andy. How he made her laugh. How she calmed him down. How they helped each other in so many ways. She gave up the pretense of reading when her mind moved on to other areas. How it felt when he held her. How it felt to kiss him, to touch him the way she did last night. The way they made love. Oh how they had made love.
She could feel her skin tingle, remembering his gentle caresses.
She didn't hear the older woman sit down and greet her at first. Lost in thought, she sipped her hot chocolate slowly, savoring the rich flavor of cocoa without interference from whip cream. Only Andy and Ricky made whip cream fun nowadays with their silly boyish ways of playing with it.
The woman touched her arm gently, asking if she was all right. Nodding yes, she returned to her thoughts. His tongue swirling around hers. His eyes getting darker the more aroused he became. His fingertips floating over her skin like a butterfly landing on flowers. The number of times he brought her to release, panting his name. The way he whispered he loved her. Twice. The look on his face when he couldn't hold off his own release any longer. Why did he look so sad?
He was a skilled lover, skilled on so many levels, and he hadn't held anything back. Hadn't left anything for their next time together. He gave it all to her last night. Had he somehow known?
The older woman didn't accept her nod as truthful. "You don't seem all right, Dear."
"I am thank you."
"You've lost someone? I looked like that when I lost my first husband."
"I'm sorry for your loss," Captain Raydor could appear at a second's notice.
"Oh, he didn't die." She chuckled softly. "He cheated and I threw his sorry ass out."
She didn't know what to make of that, what to say, so she remained silent. Eventually, she asked, "But you still missed him?"
"Oh, yes, I loved the damn bastard. Hurt like hell to find out what he did. Hurt again to rid myself of him too. You know, people didn't divorce back then."
"I know." Don't I know, she thought. "I was separated over twenty years before I finally got divorced."
"Old school, as the kids say."
"I guess," she answered quietly.
"Is it he you're missing?"
"Oh God no. I mean -…"
Patting her arm, she laughed. "It's okay. So what happened between you and your new fella?" Seeing the uncertain look in her eyes, the older woman assured her, "Oh, don't worry, Dear, I've seen some things in my time. I'm about to be eighty years old. That's why we're here, to celebrate. Use me as an impartial sounding board."
"I hurt him."
"Can you fix it?"
"I'm not sure."
"You want to?"
"Yes." She looked the woman in the eyes. She saw glimpses of her own mother. The easy smile, the twinkling eyes, the wrinkles probably well earned. "Yes, I do."
"Oh, I see. You love this fella."
"I – "
"It's all right, I found a new fella too. He was a tough old bastard when I met him. Thought my friend was a damned fool for setting us up. But he was a gentleman through and through." She pointed to the older man in front of the fireplace with what must've been their great-granddaughter. "Look at the old marshmallow."
The two women laughed at the man playing patty cake, apparently wrong, as the young girl kept correcting him. "First one's practice, he always said, second one's for keeps."
"I'm not quite sure -, I don't really understand."
"Your first spouse teaches you what not to do. If you're lucky and you get a good one for the second, that one teaches you how it should be done."
"I see. Yes, he's a good man."
"Then fix it." Getting up, "I'd better go save the old man from that game before he refuses to play it ever again."
"It was nice speaking with you."
"Same here. Good luck."
Fishing her phone out of her purse, she dialed Andy. He let it go to voicemail. She text him.
Did you catch a case? No.
Doing paperwork? Yes.
I'm sorry. I know.
We need to talk. We're good.
Please, Andy. Tonight? I miss you. Okay.
Bring your bag. Don't need it.
Please? Fine.
She had barely had time to think about his brief answers when her phone vibrated again. She expected it was a follow up text from Andy. Maybe he was rethinking being so short with her? Noticing it was from Lt Provenza, she could feel her stomach tighten.
Only have so many details but you hurt him. I didn't mean to.
That's usually how it works. I know. I'll fix it.
Do. How is he? Is he okay?
Sad. Hurt. I'll fix it.
[TBC]