The Good Wife - Chapter 4
by: Kadi
Rated: M
There were days when retirement felt like a good idea, and other days when Detective Julio Sanchez was pretty satisfied with his work. Like the others, he considered, from time to time, whether or not he should consider going into another department. He could do pretty well in SIS, or he could go back to Gang Intelligence. He wasn't too old for that. Except that there were days when he did feel like maybe he was. The most recent case had him considering it again. It was a tough one, and had taken its toll on all of them. A high school prank gone wrong, and a fifteen year old girl was being put in the ground way too soon. Idiot kids, with too much time on their hands would end up doing time in jail. It was all so stupid and senseless, and cases such as this one made him tired of all the death and stupidity that they faced in the world. He wondered sometimes why he still did it. Then he would think about all the victims, the people they could have saved, and the ones that would be saved because another lowlife was behind bars. Or he would think about Oscar, his brother, another young life ended and gone too soon. He would remember why he kept coming back.
Or he would think about the team, the guys whose backs he watched every day. Julio would think about Mike, with his wife and his kid. He would come in so Mike could go home again. He thought about Buzz, still a little naive after all these years, and that made it worth it. Or his new partner. Sykes wasn't so bad, a little too perky, or a little too eager sometimes, but damned good in a fight. She was getting it, she needed a little more help, and she could be frustrating sometimes, but in another few years, he thought she might be a pretty good homicide detective. There were the others too, Lieutenants Provenza and Flynn, and everything the whole team had been through together and it brought him back. He even thought about what the Captain brought to the table, and how he'd never be able to win that bean bag off Flynn if he transferred or left the department. It was one of the most badass things he'd ever seen, and she wasn't even their Captain at the time. Julio still felt a little guilty when he thought about how he didn't always much like her. She was good people, and she worked as hard as the rest of them, and was smarter than - he at least - had ever given her credit for.
Julio had a new appreciation for her rules, he felt they probably all did since that stupid law suit. It kept them out of trouble, and sort of made it a little more interesting to do their jobs. It was harder, sure, but a little more challenging sometimes. Not that there weren't times he wanted to take her rules and shake her with them, but then, he wasn't the only one who felt like that. Except, lately, the Captain was floating around like a bit of a ghost. That broom that Flynn and Provenza had taped to the outside of her office had gotten them a laugh. For a little while, her mood had seemed buoyed, but then that lawyer, Baker, had shown up and she was all… quiet and tense again after he left. Julio was pretty sure he knew what was going on, just as sure as he was that it wasn't any of his business.
That was a few days ago, and the older Lieutenants were taking turns trying to provoke a response out of her. The broom was only the start. Sanchez could only shake his head at their antics. After the broom, they had brought in a hat. It had been pinned to the white board, a black witch's hat. The rest of them didn't know what had gotten into those two, but it was almost working. She had taken it down and slapped it against Provenza's shoulder with a roll of her eyes, right before she dropped it onto his head. Buzz had gotten a picture of that, and the Captain was threatening to use it against Provenza if he didn't stop leaving her such horrible gifts. After all, she only bought her hats on Rodeo Drive.
It had been a hard week, that was for sure. Julio was looking forward to wrapping up his case notes and getting out of the office. He was thinking about going down to the Fifth Street Grill and watching the game on one of the big screens while enjoying a cold beer and good steak. He was considering asking the others to join him, maybe even see if the kid wanted to tag along too. The Captain might not go for it, but the kid wasn't on lock down anymore. With the Stroh trial a footnote, the stalker dead, and all the badness of the last two years behind them, Rusty needed a little fun too. Someone had to teach the kid how to have a good time. Life couldn't just be all about chess. Besides, the Captain could use a little bit of fun too, and maybe he could get the Lieutenants to talk her into it.
"Excuse me." It was a soft voice, almost lilting and slightly musical. They didn't get a lot of visitors on the ninth floor anyway, and definitely not after five in the evening. She stood near Lieutenant Provenza's desk, and waited patiently for him to acknowledge her. Where he sat, at the adjacent desk, Julio got a good look at her. She was tall, what he'd heard Flynn call willowy. She was thin, a little too thin by his standards, but the sweater and jeans that she wore showed off curves.
"Yes?" Provenza drew out the syllable when he looked up at her. His brows lifted in askance, only to immediately draw together. "Can we help you, Miss?" The last thing they needed was someone walking in to confess something, or otherwise get on their nerves. He managed, somehow, to sound only slightly exasperated. He was, like the others, wanting out of there before it got too late.
She flashed a smile at him, bright and friendly. "Actually, yes. I'm looking for…" She trailed off when, looking around the room, she spotted the reason behind her arrival. "You know, never mind." The young lady's smile softened, and she strode away from them.
"Hey, miss…" Provenza half stood. "You can't just go—"
"Hey, lady!" The girl's voice projected louder, and lost some of the musical quality to take on an only slightly deeper tone. It was directed at the woman who had emerged from her office, only to stop at the closest desk.
Sharon looked up and whirled around at the sound. She paused in what she was saying to Lieutenant Flynn, and her eyes widened in immediate recognition. She dropped the file in her hand onto his desk and drew a deep breath. She had told Elizabeth specifically to not come to Los Angeles. Her daughter had obviously chosen not to listen. "What are you doing here?"
The tall brunette shrugged, even as she strode forward and into a hug. "We wrapped the show this week, and there was nothing to do in New York. I was bored, so I decided to surprise you." Was her mother thinner? Did she look just a little too brittle around the edges? Elizabeth held on tightly.
"I'm surprised." Sharon leaned back and got a good look at her. "You're too thin."
"I could say the same thing." Elizabeth arched a brow at her. "I'm supposed to be this thin. You're not. I'd be willing to bet that I've got at least five pounds on you right now."
"I am standing right here, aren't I?" Provenza looked around the room. "I didn't just disappear the moment the girl began speaking. I mean, honestly, you can see me right?" He waved a hand in front of Sanchez.
"I see you, Sir." He smirked. "If the pretty girl doesn't see you, nothing I can do about that."
"I'm sorry." Elizabeth half turned and fixed him with a smile that was only partly apologetic. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to completely ignore you, and why am I sorry for ignoring him?" She glanced at her mother and tilted her head. "Is he the one?"
"No." Sharon pressed her lips together. "Most definitely not. Although you have met before, but you were just a baby then. Lieutenant Provenza," she began pointing out the members of her squad. "Buzz, Detective Sykes, Detective Sanchez, Lieutenant Tao, and Lieutenant Flynn," she indicated the man at the desk beside her. Each of them had stood as she made the introduction. "My daughter, Elizabeth."
"Oh!" Elizabeth turned and held out a hand. Her eyes were lit, bright green with mischief. "So, you're Flynn. Nice to meet you. I'm the illegitimate spawn of the illicit and tawdry affair that you're not having with my mother."
"Elizabeth!" Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose. There were actually a few people who hadn't known, most of her squad, to be precise. That was no longer the case, thanks to her daughter's big mouth and very odd sense of humor.
"Oh come on," Elizabeth shot a look at her. "It's all going to come out in the end, and if I can't make jokes about it, no one can. Hello, this is my entire life that jerk-off is screwing around with. I should get a little bit of mileage out of it."
Flynn leaned against the side of his desk. He scratched at his forehead and sighed. "I think your mother might object to you blurting it out in front of the entire squad. They were unaware of the specifics."
"Sorry." Elizabeth shrugged. "That I didn't know."
"Wait a minute." Sanchez was on his feet and scowling darkly. "Your husband is saying that you had an affair, with Flynn?" He made a face. "You have way better taste than that, ma'am."
"Hey!" Flynn scowled at him. "Not helping, Julio."
"Alright, that's enough." Sharon waved them all back to their desks. "You all have work to finish. I suggest you get back to it. You," she pointed at her daughter. "My office."
"This is the part where I should remind you," Elizabeth stated, "that I am too old to be grounded." She turned on her heel and started in that direction.
"We'll see about that." Sharon followed her. Once they were inside the office, she ran a hand through her hair. "This is also the part where I remind you that the jerk off is still your father."
"Not according to him." Elizabeth folded gracefully into a chair. "The other guy is cute. Mom, you hussy."
Sharon rolled her eyes at her daughter. "I told you to stay in New York, Beth. I didn't want you in the middle of this mess. Your father has lost touch with reality, it doesn't mean that you have to come running to Los Angeles and—"
"What? Confront the jerk that made our lives a living hell when I was a kid? Get in the face of the guy who called me for money two years ago, and hasn't spoken to me since, just because I said no? I wouldn't have bothered answering the phone last summer if I had known it was him calling and not you. Mom, wake up and smell the estrangement. There is really nothing that he can do that can hurt me anymore. I'm over it. Rick feels differently, he actually remembers what it was like when Jack was around, but I don't have those memories. He wasn't there when I was a kid. He came and he went, and that is all that I remember about him. And I can say that because I've spent the last three years in therapy coming to terms with the fact that it has nothing to do with me, my biological sperm donor is just an asshole."
"Language." But Sharon's eyes had widened. "I didn't know you were seeing a therapist." She walked around and sank into the chair beside Elizabeth's. "Why didn't you ever tell me?"
"It wasn't about you," she shrugged. "I was trying to figure out some things about myself, and it helped. I went through this period where I was terrified of being on stage, and at the end of the day, it was just too much stress and not enough down time. I kept seeing him, after figuring all that out, and we started working through some other issues too. Like Jack."
"I see." Sharon reached out and smoothed her girl's dark hair back from her face and tucked it behind her ear. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm afraid this is my fault."
"No, it isn't." Elizabeth smiled. "My issues with him are mine, and they're all because of him. It's why I'm here. I want to look him in the eye and tell him that I think he is an absolute bastard and we are all well rid of him." She rolled her eyes and said it before her mother could, "Yes, I know, language."
"When did you grow up?" Her eyes filled, but Sharon blinked back the tears. Instead she cupped her daughter's face and kissed the top of her head.
"Well, it had to happen eventually. Don't get all weepy, it's embarrassing."
"Yes, of course," Sharon rolled her eyes. "How could I forget. Mustn't embarrass the offspring."
"Well, at your age, I'm not surprised. They say that memory is the first thing to go," Elizabeth smiled sweetly, fluttered her lashes. "Anyway, I stopped and saw Gavin. He doesn't think that we have to do the paternity test, but I'm game if that changes."
"Elizabeth." Sharon exhaled quietly. "I really don't want you involved. This has nothing to do with you. I only told you so that you would hear it from me; I didn't want you blindsided."
"Yes, yes…" She waved a hand through the air. "That's what Gavin said. He also mentioned a contingency plan, but wouldn't tell me what it is. Knowing the two of you, and what you're like, I'm sure it's going to be a good one. In any event, I'm out of it. But I'll stick around for a while, just in case."
"Thank you, honey." Sharon stood up and moved around behind her desk. "I can't leave for a little while yet. Do you mind terribly waiting?"
"Of course not." She stood up and stretched. "I dropped my things at the apartment already. I'll just hang around here and see how much more I can manage to embarrass you. I need to get to know not-bio-dad. We should really bond." She flashed a wide grin and flounced out of the office.
"Oh god." Sharon covered her face. When Sharon dropped her hands and peered through the open blinds to the squad room. She spotted her daughter standing between Buzz and Julio and found an entirely new reason to worry, at least until Lieutenant Provenza shooed them both away and began maneuvering her daughter toward the break room. Sharon reached for her phone and sent a text to Rusty, so that he wouldn't be blindsided by Elizabeth's visit. He always felt awkward when her kids were in town, not that they were very often.
Sharon sighed when her attention turned back to the stack of reports on her desk that she still had to read through and sign off on. Her shoulders slumped. The paperwork was one of the worst parts of her job. She placed her chin in her hand and reached for her pen again. It was shaping up to be a long night.
"Is he here?" Her long hair bounced around her as she hurried up to peek out at the parents that were filling the seats of the small auditorium. "He said he was coming." She stood on tiptoe and scanned the crowd, looking for a familiar face.
"He said that he would try," Sharon drew her eleven year old daughter away from the curtain and pulled her back into the wings. "Now sit still." She maneuvered the girl, tall, but slight for her age, onto a stool. Sharon began pulling a brush through her hair. She knew that Jack wasn't going to show up, he never did, but Elizabeth was still at an age where she believed him when he said that he would. "Your father is working a lot of long hours right now, honey, and he might not be able to get away."
"He said he would come, mom." She hooked her heels onto the bottom rung of the stool and bounced nervously. "Ouch!" She winced when her hair was pulled too tightly.
"You move, it hurts." Sharon had to pull it tightly and then wrapped a band around the long tail, which she began twisting into a tight, neat bun. "Elizabeth, I don't want you to get your hopes up. I know that your father said he would try to make it, but he has said that before." It never actually worked, preparing the children for disappointment, but she at least felt as though she had tried, and hated herself a little less when they were hurt.
"Mom." She waited until the pin was in place, then turned and looked up at her, eyes wide. "I got the lead. He has to come."
Maybe she was trying too hard, maybe it was her fault that her children kept expecting the best of their father, only to be disappointed by him. Sharon stroked her cheek gently. "I'm sure he'll do his very best," she said softly.
Elizabeth Raydor chewed on her bottom lip. "He always does his very best?"
"Mmhm." Sharon couldn't bring herself to say it. Instead she placed her hand atop her daughter's head and turned it back around. "Now, sit still. We're almost finished here." She continued placing pins, and blinked quickly to force back her tears. When she was finished Sharon stood back and studied her handiwork. "Perfect. Now… let's see what we can do about makeup."
Elizabeth turned on the stool, so that she was facing her mother. "I can do that, you know."
"Yes," Sharon chuckled. "I've seen your attempts at makeup, honey. Not happening." She opened the makeup bag and pulled out the thick, stage base, before dropping the bag into Elizabeth's hands. "Hold that." She dabbed base onto the sponge and began applying it to her daughter's face. "There is something profoundly wrong with putting makeup on a child. If you didn't love ballet so much…"
"I wouldn't be allowed to wear it until I'm sixteen, I know." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Did gram say that to you, when you were dancing? Or didn't you have makeup back then."
Sharon swept the sponge across her daughter's nose, then tapped it. "Cheeky." She shook her head, but smiled. "She did, but we didn't wear as much as you girls do, the lights were different then." She pressed her pinky against her daughter's mouth. "Quit while you're ahead."
Elizabeth laughed. Her attention was captured by the arrival of her brother. "Is he here?"
"Nope." Ricky walked up, shoved his hands into his pockets, and craned his head at her. "There's goop on your face, squirt." He looked at his mother and shrugged. At fourteen he already had two inches on her and was still growing. "I got us some seats. You almost done?"
"In a few minutes. Why don't you go ahead and get seated." Sharon sighed quietly. Jack still had a few minutes, but she wasn't expecting him to show up anyway. Obviously, Ricky wasn't expecting it either. "I'll be right out."
"Yeah, sure." The teenager shrugged. "There's also something growing out of your head. Always knew you were an alien."
"Richard." Sharon fixed him with a look. She was not in the mood for one of their arguments.
"It's okay mom." Elizabeth smiled sweetly. "Little Ricky just wishes that he could be as awesome as me. He is only halfway decent, I am superb."
"Keep dreaming dancing bean, keep dreaming!" Ricky smirked as he made his way back out to the auditorium.
"You kids…" Sharon gripped her daughter's chin and tilted her face up. "Now quit talking, and quit moving."
"Hey, mom…" Elizabeth chewed on the corner of her lip. "Will you try calling him? When you're done?"
She inhaled deeply and focussed on smoothing the base along her daughter's hairline. "Of course," she managed after a moment. "I'll call him as soon as we're done here. Now quiet. You don't want me messing this up."
He didn't show up that night, or any other night. Elizabeth reflected back on all the different ways and times that her father had disappointed her while nursing the cup of coffee. The break room was silent, and smaller than she might have imagined, but it wasn't bad for a police station. At least, for the real life kind and not the television representation. Too bad there wasn't a cappuccino machine. Plain ground coffee would have to suffice, as long as there was enough cream in it.
Elizabeth turned the paper cup in her hands and stared into it. What she told her mother wasn't untrue, but pulling it off with so little emotion had taken a lot out of her. She had spent some time in therapy over the last few years, but it was New York, people without therapists were the ones to worry about. At some point she stopped expecting disappointment when dealing with her father and just became resigned to it. Much, she imagined, as her mother had done. She couldn't pick out even one time that he had ever watched her dance, or Rick play ball. He wasn't there when they graduated from High School, or when they dropped Rick off at college, or when either of them graduated, or even when her mother flew with her to New York the first time that she auditioned for the American Ballet Theater.
He was never there. That was the one fact that stood out in her memory. Not for any of the good things. Elizabeth did remember the arguments, the barely concealed voices coming from her mother's bedroom on those occasions when her father was at home. She remembered her mother crying, and her brother angry. Those were the only memories that she had of her father. They were all well rid of him.
Andy Flynn paused just outside the break room. He considered the empty cup in his hand, but when he thought about the case files waiting on his desk, there was no way he was getting through them without a refill. He almost considered going down to Robbery-Homicide and raiding their kitchen, but he didn't want to put up with the smart mouths. His lips pursed while he studied the young woman seated at the center table in the room. There was such a look of profound sadness on her face, it was hard to reconcile her with the laughing, teasing woman they had met just an hour before.
He watched her gaze shift, there was an iPad on the table in front of her. When she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear he was struck by just how much like her mother she looked. It was hard to see anything of Jackson in her face. She seemed to be all Sharon. Especially when she realized she was being watched and her features schooled before the bright, cheerful smile returned. Yes, she was definitely her mother's daughter.
Andy pushed into the break room and headed toward the coffee maker. "Sorry, running on fumes," he held up the empty cup.
"Not at all." She drew the iPad toward her. "I'm crashing the joint, not the other way around."
"Wow, that was almost authentic." He turned and leaned a hip back against the counter. "Almost New York, you need to go a little harder on the consonants though."
"If I were going for Brooklyn, yeah," She grinned, and looked up at him through her lashes. "I'm a Manhattan girl."
"Figures." He shook his head at her. "All the girls want to live in Manhattan now."
"Don't worry, Brooklyn still has the best pie," She propped her chin in her hand. "I'm betting that you're a Jersey boy, though."
"You're good," his brows lifted in surprise. "Know a few of those do you?"
"Shh…" Her grin widened, and her eyes sparkled in a way that reminded him of her mother again. "Don't tell mom. They've got the best dogs."
"Pizza and hot dogs." His head tilted. "What kind of dancer are you?"
"The healthy eating kind," she laughed. "I mean healthy as in a lot, not as in choices. Although, there's this little place just across the river in Union City," she leaned forward and her eyes lit up. "Little Italian shop, called…"
"Casa di Napoli," Andy laughed. "Yeah, I know it. God, it's been years. Are they still in that place over on 32nd street?"
"That's the one." She smiled brightly. "They have got the best spinach and four cheese cannelloni that I have ever had. It's a little inconvenient sometimes that they're cash only, but the food…"
"They're still doing that?" He shook his head. "Wow, way to not come into the twenty-first century. Geez, way to go kid, now I'm hungry." Andy lifted his coffee cup to his lips.
"I know," she laughed. "I'm craving lobster ravioli." Elizabeth looked at her watch. "But I would settle for a pizza if mom gets out of here in the next hour."
"It shouldn't be much longer," he assured. "She's usually out of here by half past. She doesn't like leaving the kid to fend for himself."
"Rusty, right." Elizabeth's head inclined. "Is he still being a smart-mouthed brat? Last time I was here, Thanks Giving before last, he wasn't, what is the word that I am looking for…" Her lips pursed and she tapped her fingers against them. "Oh, right, as grateful for that living arrangement as he could have been."
"Nah, the kid is alright." Andy shrugged. "Or we've gotten used to him." He thought about it for a moment. "No, I think it's all worked itself out now. More than, actually. He still resorts to sarcasm when he's not comfortable, but hell, we all do. He fits right in around here."
"Good," she shrugged. "Then I won't worry about it." She folded her hands together and leaned forward, crossing her legs beneath the table. "So tell me something, Andy Flynn from Jersey, who is not my biological father. If you and my mom have not been having an affair - and I believe her when she says that you did not, and are not, sleeping together. Why does my sperm donor think that you did and are?"
Andy choked on his coffee and immediately reached for several napkins. "I beg your pardon," he wheezed.
"You heard me. I do not stutter, Lieutenant." Her head inclined and she lifted her brows at him. "I think I deserve the right to ask, and to know the answer."
"Okay, first of all…" He wiped coffee off his tie. "Don't look at me like that. It's creepy. Second," Andy wadded up the napkins and tossed them into the trash. "Only your mother has the right to use that tone of voice with me and any of the other guys around here. As to the rest, I'm not sure that I'm the right person to be answering those questions. You should really be taking this up with Sharon."
"Sharon is it." Her lips pursed. If her grandparents hadn't bought her Lasik for her twenty-first birthday, she knew that she could have put on her glasses and really creeped him out. "Let's just level with each other here, Lieutenant. Do you really think she's going to tell me anything? You have met her, yes? We are talking about the same woman? You call her Sharon, I call her mom, others use the word Captain, and then there are those who run away in fear. Yet, they all describe the same woman, surprisingly enough."
"Okay, seriously." Andy pointed at her. "Stop it." It was too disturbing for words, and if he were honest with himself, he was reminded of Sharon from twenty years ago. "Look, kid, you want answers. I don't blame you. I'm not the person to ask. I can't explain for you what goes on inside Jack's head, or if anything is going on inside Jack's head. Your mom and I have known each other for a long time. We're friends. That's all there is to it."
"Really." She continued to watch him closely. Elizabeth didn't buy it for a second. "Friendly enough that the sperm donor thinks he has an adequate enough case of infidelity?"
Andy ran a hand over his hair. Damn she was like her mother. "We were partners for over a year, it was before you were born. When she got pregnant with you, she had to ride a desk for a while. After that, she transferred to Internal Affairs. I guess he thinks that the timing will prove his case. I don't know, Elizabeth. Your mother and I are friends. She was always faithful to your father."
There was something in the way that he spoke of it, the harder inflection of his voice. Something that belied simple friendship, but Elizabeth believed most of what he said. Aside from that, she knew her mother. She lived in a world where some things had no gray area, there was right and there was wrong, there was married and not married. Being separated was just a way of providing financial security for all of them, it was a stop gap measure for her father's gambling problem and its effect on his family. Elizabeth tapped her nails against the side of her paper coffee cup. "Yes, I believe that she was." The young woman shrugged. "Maybe she shouldn't have been." When he choked on his coffee again, she laughed merrily.
When Sharon stepped into the break room, Andy was cursing under his breath and wiping coffee from the front of his suit, while her daughter watching in amusement. "What did you do?" It was directed at the latter.
"What?" She was all innocence now, wide green eyes and sweet smile. "We were just bonding. Isn't that right, Andy Flynn from Jersey."
Sharon turned in time to see him rolling his eyes. "I'm so sorry. I wish that I could explain her behavior, but I'm afraid that we would be here all night."
"Don't worry about it." He smirked. "Although, I should point out, this is the first time you've ever apologized to me for someone else's behavior. Usually you're apologizing for me, not the other way around. I'm thinking we should go along with that paternity test though, just to make sure that there was, in fact, a father. Right now, I'm leaning toward the conclusion that you were cloned."
"You wouldn't be the first." Sharon turned and swung an arm toward the door. "Elizabeth. Let's go. We can stop and pick up dinner on the way home. Rusty is requesting burgers, but I am sure that between the two of us we can convince him that it is not, in fact, its own food group."
"Let's get Italian." She grinned as she slipped her iPad into her large purse and carried her coffee with her once the bag was thrown over her shoulder. "I'm having a sudden, inexplicable craving." She wriggled her fingers at Andy as she walked by. "See ya around, not-bio-dad."
Sharon looked skyward and inhaled deeply. Her arm fell against her side and she shook her head. When she looked at Andy again, her look was full of apology. "I'm sorry," she said again.
"Don't be." Andy tossed the wad of napkins into the trash for the second time that evening. "She has a right to… express her issues with all of this however she can. Don't apologize for her, Sharon. She's just a kid, and she's had the rug yanked out from under her by one of the last people who ever should. It's… it's fine. Go, have dinner with your kids, get out of this place and just be a mom for a few hours."
She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank you, Andy." Sharon backed out of the break room and pulled the door closed behind her. With any luck, she'd catch up with Elizabeth before she spread anymore mayhem.
