A/N: This chapter just took a while. Hope you're still enjoying it and please, please R&R! And if you ever have any ideas, feel free to PM me. I'm always glad to get new ideas!

Disclaimer: I do not own or operate "The Closer."

Chapter 6: Countdown

There was absolutely nothing on daytime TV, Brenda thought, as she surfed through the channels. She finally landed on the food channel where Paula Deen was cooking a pan of macaroni and cheese that looked like a heart attack on a plate. It also looked utterly delicious. Brenda fervently wished she could cook, but in the kitchen, she was hopeless. If she could just manage something really good, one time, she had never known a man to turn down a home-cooked meal. But even something as straightforward as spinach lasagna was completely beyond her culinary skills. She now wished she had paid more attention when her mother – a legendary cook – had tried to teach her a few basics. But if it didn't come out of a can or a box, Brenda was bound to make a mess of it.

"I'll bet that woman can cook," she said to Joel, who was beside her on the sofa. "She probably can cook vegetarian, too. I swear, if she gets Andy Flynn in her web, I'll - I'll – do something. I don't know what, but something. Something bad."

The noon news was on and Brenda watched to see if anything interesting had happened, like a shootout or some other crime of the day. Not much on that front, but a commercial caught her attention. It was for a catering business that delivered what it promised were "meals like you wish your mother could make." Brenda could look up a website online and found the business. She was eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, since that was pretty much the extent of the available ready-made food in the house. She hadn't been to the supermarket since Fritz left for D.C.

The website featured a menu and she scrolled through the choices. Most interesting of all, they offered cooking classes. Since she was on a self-improvement course now, it might be worth a shot.

The thought of self-improvement made Brenda think. Andy seemed to think she had some issues with drinking. The recycling truck hadn't been by yet. How many bottles of Merlot were in the bin since last Tuesday, she wondered? She went to the recycling bin and started counting. When she finished, she sat flat on the floor in complete shock. There's no way she could have possibly consumed that much wine, all by herself, but there it was. Sixteen empty bottles. Sixteen. She counted them again. Still sixteen. That added up to two bottles a day. At 750 milliliters, Brenda calculated, that was 1,500 milliliters a day, which was a liter and a half, which, if she remembered her math, was a little over a quart and a half. So, a liter and a half a day for seven days, added up to 10 and a half liters, which was probably 11 quarts, which was nearly three gallons. Three gallons of wine in a week? Oh, dear God. Surely she didn't drink that much all the time, did she? But she knew it wasn't much out of the ordinary, especially not since Lamar got out of prison. She must have been in a wine-induced haze nearly every night since Fritz went to D.C. There was no way she could think clearly with all that booze sloshing around inside.

She really wanted to talk to Andy. She wanted to tell him how much she had been drinking and how she hadn't realized it. She instinctively knew he would understand. She was afraid Fritz might not. He might tell her she should have recognized it long ago, should have known she needed to make some changes. But she knew Andy would listen, without judgment.

Brenda dialed his cell.

"Lieutenant Flynn," he answered, obviously not having looked at the ID.

"Andy? I really need to talk to you. Can you come by after work? I'm not trying to just get you here. I've got to tell you something. Please, will you come?"

She sounded really upset. "Has Tate contacted you?" he said.

"No, not lately. I-I just really need to talk to you. Please, Andy. I really need a friend."

He frowned at the pain in her voice. "Sure. I'll see you later, all right? Will you be O.K.?"

"Yeah. And thank you."

"Not a problem," he said and hung up, glad no one was around him in the murder room right then.

When Brenda answered her door that evening, she was as distraught as Andy had ever seen her.

"Hey, Brenda," he said. "What's up?"

She closed the door and led him to the sofa. "Andy, I did some thinking after you left this morning, about how much I drink. So, I went to the recycling bin and counted the bottles since the truck ran. There were sixteen in the bin."

Andy whistled low. "That's two a day," he said.

She nodded. "I know. And I was thinking how much that is. Nearly three gallons of wine in the past week! I guess some people drink more than that, but that sounds like an awful lot to me."

"Goes beyond social drinking, for sure," he answered.

"Yeah, it does. Andy, I didn't drink that much in college!"

"So did you come to any conclusions?"

"I may not be an alcoholic, but I've been drinking too much. And it really started after Lamar got out of jail and called me. I couldn't deal with the fear, and the anger, and the outrage that he thought he could do this to me again!"

Andy nodded slowly. "Do you want to keep letting him live in your head, rent free? That's what you're doing. You're drinking and he's winning. He's destroying you from 2,000 miles away."

"I didn't think about it like that."

"You never do when you're in it. Not that he's not a credible threat, because, to me, all nutcase exes are credible threats," Andy said. "But, when you live in fear, he wins. And I already told you once today that he wasn't gonna get close to you."

"I believe you, Andy."

"You ought to. If that SOB even twitches, we should know about it." He looked around. "Have you eaten?"

"Not real hungry these days. I had a sandwich about noon."

"And that's it?" He scowled at her. "I'm gonna get you some dinner, and you're gonna eat. Understand me?"

Brenda nodded. "Yes, Lieutenant," she answered.

He grinned and found her phone book. He placed a delivery order and when it arrived, he put the food on the table and motioned her to a chair. "Sit. It's Indian and it's good. I got vegetarian because I'm hungry too. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Of course not," Brenda said, seating herself. "I'm glad you'll even talk to me after the past week."

"Try the poppyseed naan. It's awesome," he said, by way of an answer.

When Brenda had eaten to Andy's satisfaction, he put the leftovers in the fridge and said, "Now, you need to take that lazy cat of yours and both of you hit the sack. Just you and the cat," he clarified.

"I know. I can't help but wish you were with me, though."

Andy sighed and put his arms around her. He kissed the top of her head. "Good night, Brenda. See you tomorrow." He left quickly.

Brenda had some difficulty falling asleep without a lot of Merlot inside her, but finally managed.

The Major Crimes team all arrived before their chief did the next day. When Andy came in, Tao was fairly fidgeting with impatience.

"Flynn, Georgia Corrections finally got back with me this morning. Tate hasn't checked in with his P.O. this week. He was supposed to be there yesterday, but he didn't get there. He was living in some apartment, and he was gone when the police went to check on him."

Andy slammed his hand on his desk. "Dammit!" he snapped. "He's got nearly a two-day jump on us."

"Nothing on any of the passenger lists so far," Provenza said.

"Well," Sanchez put in, "if he's not flying, and not on a train, then it will take him at least three more days to get here."

"Yeah," Gabriel added, "And if he's not in Atlanta, at least Clay and Willie Rae are safe. That's something. But the Atlanta PD was less than helpful. Said they didn't have the manpower to step up patrols in a neighborhood where there wasn't much crime."

Andy shook his head. "Idiots. So what next?"

"Well," Gabriel said, "the good news is the Birmingham people were helpful. That's the next big city west of Atlanta, so it makes sense that Tate might pass through there. I e-mailed them Tate's mug shots, and turns out, he's wanted in Alabama on a boatload of drug charges under another name, so they're real interested in getting him. They didn't know Tate was the same one they wanted."

"Tate's a busy boy," Flynn said. "Did you get the name he used in Alabama?"

"Yeah. Lamar Cumbeson. I've already given it to Lieutenant Provenza to search for on the passenger lists. And the Birmingham newspaper and television stations have all posted photos on their web sites so people can call if they've seen him."

"Good work, David. So, I guess the next thing we need to do is talk to the Mississippi people and get them alerted."

"Birmingham PD said they had an APB on him with the state troopers, and had already relayed the information to the Mississippi troopers, and Jackson PD. They also sent the alerts north up to Huntsville, also in Alabama, and Nashville, and west to Memphis."

"Those guys are on the ball down there. Wonder if we could get Delk to call them and thank them personally?" Andy said.

"Nice gesture," Provenza said. "Gabriel, you might want to call Houston and Dallas next. We can't spread the net too far out."

"On it, Lieutenant." He picked up his phone.

"All right. We know this guy is on the move," Andy said. "And the smart money says he's headed west, since he has a reason to be in L.A. Pope said he would authorize a uniform for the chief's home, if it was necessary. Until he can get that set up, we don't leave her alone. She told me yesterday when I picked up those files that Howard will be home tomorrow. So we can bring him up to speed then, but one of us or a uniform goes with her every time she's outside this building."

"Where is the chief, now?" Tao asked. "Does anyone know?"

"On her way in, I guess," Andy said. "If she's not here in a few minutes, Gabriel can call her."

"How much do we tell her?" Sanchez asked.

"Everything," Provenza said. "You know she won't be satisfied with less."

Sanchez sighed. Telling the Chief her psycho ex husband was headed west was not his idea of a fun day.

Brenda finally walked into the murder room, to the squad's relief.

Andy steered her to his desk. "Have a seat, Chief. Something's come up."

"What's going on, Lieutenant?" Brenda looked at her crew. Every face radiated concern.

"Chief, Tate didn't check in with his P.O. yesterday. They don't know where he is," Tao said.

Brenda's face went paper white. She brought a hand to her mouth.

"Let me get you some water, Chief," Provenza said. He brought a cup back for her.

"Thank you, Lieutenant," she whispered as she sipped it.

"But now listen, Chief," Flynn continued. "We're on it, O.K.? We've got alerts out for him as far west as Dallas, and we'll extend the net as far as we need to. He's already on every fugitive website Tao knows about. Pope has already authorized a uniform guard for your house, and has ordered one of us to be with you any time you're outside the building. Someone will escort you to your car and to and from your house. You won't be alone. Pope said he'd call Agent Howard when he gets back tomorrow to tell him what's going on, all right? This creep is not gonna get past us."

Brenda nodded. "Thank you, Lieutenant," she said. "Thank you all. I appreciate your efforts. Now, I'd like to be by myself for a few minutes, if you don't mind."

Andy nodded. "Sure, Chief."

Brenda stood, but then leaned on Andy's desk for support. Her legs suddenly didn't want to hold her up.

"Catch her, Flynn!" Provenza yelled, but Andy was already around the side of the desk, and Brenda collapsed in his arms in a dead faint.

"Get the doc up here!" Andy yelled. Provenza got on the phone. Andy carried Brenda to her office, followed by the rest of the crew. He motioned to Sanchez to recline Brenda's desk chair, and Andy tenderly placed her in her chair, while Gabriel propped her feet up in one of the office chairs.

"Hey Tao, you want to get a cold, wet cloth for her head?"

"Sure, Flynn," he answered and disappeared for the break room.

Andy had dragged the other chair around the desk, and sat next to Brenda, holding her hand.

"Should we try to rouse her?" Gabriel said.

Andy looked at her. "No, her breathing is steady. Unless she doesn't come to in a couple or three minutes, probably better to let her come back on her own."

Tao arrived with the cloth and placed it on Brenda's forehead.

The department doctor arrived about the time Brenda's eyes fluttered open. She raised her hand to her forehead and felt the cloth and Andy squeezed her hand gently. She looked at him and smiled.

"Back with us, Chief?" he said, quietly.

"Yeah, I am. Andy, what happened?"

"You just fainted for a couple of minutes, that's all, Chief. But we've got the doc up here to take a look to make sure you're all right."

"Oh, that won't be necessary," she said.

"Yes, Chief, it is necessary," the department doctor said. He had a backpack with him, which Andy guessed had replaced the traditional medical bag. He looked inside and produced a stethoscope. Andy got up and stepped aside, and the doctor checked her pulse, then listened to her heart. He pulled out a blood pressure cuff and got a reading, then took a penlight from his pocket and checked her eyes.

"Pupils are normal and reactive. Blood pressure is 100 over 60, heart rate is 60." He looked up to the anxious faces of her crew. "The chief is fine. She had what's called 'vasovagal syncope.' That basically means fainting from distressing stimuli. It's much more common than people think."

"I've never fainted in my life, doctor," Brenda spluttered, sitting up.

"Stay down a few more minutes until your blood pressure and heart rate come up a little, Chief," he said. "It has to do with the action of the vagus nerve. It's nothing you can control. It just happens, sometimes."

"I just remember you all telling me – the news you had for me. Then, I thought about getting up to come in here. And then, coming to," Brenda said.

"You stood up and then just crumpled," Provenza said.

"Oh my. I didn't hit my head or anything, did I?"

"Nah. I caught you, Chief," Andy said. "You're good."

"That was going to be my next question," the doctor said, "But you answered it, Lieutenant." He turned to Brenda. "Chief, I want you to stay put in that chair for at least ten more minutes. When you're ready to get up, call one of these guys to help you. If you feel the least bit light-headed, sit down for another ten minutes, understand me?"

"I do, but I'll be fine," Brenda said.

"You will be fine, no doubt, but sit for ten minutes before you try to get up."

"We'll sit on her if we have to," Provenza said.

"Works for me," the doctor chuckled. "Let me know if she has any more episodes," he said, and, nodding at Brenda, left the office.

"Well," Brenda said, as soon as the doctor left. "Now maybe we can get back to work." She acted as if to stand, but Andy put his hands on her shoulders from behind, exerting enough pressure to keep her seated.

"Nothin' doing, Chief," he said. "The doc said ten minutes."

"Oh, that's just silly. Let me up, Lieutenant! That's an order!"

"Nope. And I'll get Sanchez to come sit in your lap, if I have to. And you know you're not filing a report on me for disobeying this direct order. Pope would have my ass if I let you get up and you went right back down again. Ten minutes he said, and ten minutes it's gonna be."

The crew filed out of Brenda's office, except for Andy. Sanchez paused in the doorway and said, "Lieutenant, yell if you need me to come and sit on her."

"I'll do it, Julio. Thanks," Andy chuckled.

Brenda scowled at Andy. "How did I get in here, anyway?" she said.

"I carried you," he answered.

"Wish I'd been conscious," she smirked.

Andy shook his head. "I don't. You'd have been fighting me all the way."

"Not necessarily, Andy. I don't always fight you." Andy raised his eyebrows at her and she subsided. "I swear, Andy Flynn. I never thought of you as a wet blanket or a prude."

He rolled his eyes. "Sticks and stones, Chief."

"Has anyone mentioned the dedication on Friday?" Brenda asked.

"What dedication?"

"Oh, Pope said something about it last week. He sent me an e-mail. The city is putting up some kind of monument in a park to honor first responders: police, fire, medics, everybody. So, we're all supposed to be there. Even if we're working a case, we're supposed to drop it and go to the dedication service. It's just another to-do to deal with. I guess the only people who don't have to go are the officers from Traffic, who will probably directing traffic that day, and it's going to be a mess and I don't feel like dealing with it. It's just an excuse for Tommy Delk to put on his uniform, make a speech and look all official." She sighed in frustration.

Andy grinned at her. "Part of the job. I'll check on Provenza and make sure he looks presentable for the cameras."

"I don't hold out much hope for that, but do what you can, anyway. Are my ten minutes up, yet?"

"Yeah. But get up slowly, all right? I don't want you to keel right over again."

"All right. What I'd like to do is put a bullet through Lamar Tate's head. But I can't." She stood.

Andy shook his head. "Somebody is probably gonna do that for you, eventually, Chief. Just give it a little time."

"I wish someone already had. It's not often I'd like to see someone die, but he's the exception."

"I don't blame you." He looked at her. "Steady on your feet?" At her nod, he said, "O.K. Let's get out there and see if we've been able to track him down."

Andy guided Brenda out into the murder room with a light hand on her shoulder. Sanchez immediately gave her his chair and as she seated herself, Andy said, "Anything new?"

Tao shrugged. He looked worried, which was unusual. "I pulled Tate's records. He had six months tacked on to his sentence for intimidating other inmates, and his records from rehab show he did the same thing to other patients. He was kicked out of three programs because of it."

"Well, that's no surprise," Brenda said. "He always loved trying to intimidate people by being badder than they were. He never had friends – just toadies."

"Problem is, it looks like he just dropped off the face of the earth. No bank accounts, so there's no credit card trail, and we haven't been able to find his name or any aliases on anything coming this way," Tao added.

"He could be traveling on a fake ID," Brenda mused. "Any car thefts? I know he stole the occasional car. Don't know if he ever got caught for it, though."

"I'll check on it, Chief," Tao said.

"Of course, one of his drug buddies might have loaned him a car, too. His license has been revoked for years, unless he managed to get another one somewhere." She sighed. "It's a needle in a haystack."

Gabriel looked over at Brenda. "Chief, do you mind me asking? Is the house in yours and Agent Howard's names?"

"Yes, but it's listed as Fritz and Brenda Howard."

"Well, that helps. Makes it a little harder to track you down by your maiden name," he answered.

After a series of clandestine texts, Andy met Sharon for lunch. This time, it was at a Thai restaurant, where Andy knew cops didn't go. He felt much more at ease here, but Sharon could tell he was perturbed.

"What's going on, Andy?"

"Georgia DOC can't locate Brenda's ex. He didn't check in with his P.O. Police searched his apartment, but he was gone."

Sharon's eyes widened and she took a breath. "That doesn't sound good. I assume you've made all the necessary phone calls."

"Yeah. We've got alerts out now, as far west as Denver and Santa Fe. But there's no paper trail. This guy just dropped off the grid."

"Those are the scary ones. How's Brenda taking the news?"

"We told her this morning. She stood up and passed out."

Sharon looked shocked. "Wow. But I can see why. I have never completely understood what makes abusers tick."

Andy shrugged. "Depends on whether they're just doing the same thing they saw their dads do, if they were abused when they were kids, or what. This guy? He's just bat-shit crazy."

"You have such a way with words, Lieutenant," Sharon chuckled. "But it's an apt description. Is Brenda all right?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Scared, but O.K. Anybody with any sense would be scared. What pisses me off is her husband basically told her the creep is 2,000 miles away and she was silly for worrying."

"I have a difficult time seeing why Agent Howard would say that, especially after her ex contacted her. He should know what these kinds of people will do."

"That's what I thought, but Brenda said he worries about what he can see. Not what's somewhere else."

"He obviously hasn't worked as many domestic violence cases as we have," Sharon said. "Distance is not a factor for these people. Especially not with the Internet and social networking."

"Yeah, the world is gettin' smaller and that's not necessarily a good thing."

As they ate, Sharon asked, "Did Brenda tell you about the memorial service on Friday?"

Andy rolled his eyes. "Yeah. This morning. What a complete waste of time. I mean, it's nice of the city to do and all, but to make it mandatory for the ranking officers of every division to be there? God, that's a zillion people!"

"Tommy Delk loves a show," Sharon said.

"Brenda said essentially the same thing," Andy replied. "So you two actually agree on something. Who'd a thought?"

"Oh, I don't know. I'd say we'd both agree we like sleeping with you," Sharon answered in a low voice. To her delight, Andy's ears turned red and she laughed.

"Don't remind me. This is the most bizarre, screwed-up situation ever. It's a soap opera and I hate soap operas!"

"So a threesome is out of the question, then?" Sharon almost doubled over with laughter at his expression.

"What did you say?" he spluttered.

She sighed, still smiling, "Oh, Andy. It's so hard to shock you, and when I do, it's a red-letter day. I've done it twice in two minutes, so it's a gold-star day for me. The look on your face was just priceless. I couldn't resist. I knew it would poke that sense of moral outrage of yours and it was just too good to pass up."

Andy scowled at her. "Don't say stuff like that. Takes years off my life."

"I hear getting scared once in a while is healthy. So you should be good."

"For the next ten years. At least."

"And you think life with Brenda Johnson would be more tranquil? Have I ever got news for you, then. Dinner tonight?"

"I thought we weren't dating."

"We're not. We're eating a lot."

Andy chuckled. "How about tomorrow night? Howard will be home and there's no way she'll call me for anything. And I'd just rather keep you two completely separate."

Sharon gave him a wry grin. "O.K., but text me if you change your mind."

"I will."

When Sharon got back to her office, she thought about Andy. In love with him? No. Not at all. But she found she liked him a great deal, and the kind of heat he could generate in her blood was easy to get used to. She had also figured out his occasional disregard for regulations wasn't because he wanted to hurt a suspect. No, he just wanted to get people who hurt other people off the streets. Sharon fervently hoped Andy Flynn never got those big hands on Lamar Tate. She saw what he did to Bob Harris when Harris attacked him. Sharon had a feeling Andy would be much more – creative – if defending Brenda.

Brenda's office door was open and Andy heard her answer her cell. "Oh, hey, Fritzie. Oh, you're home early! That's nice. I've missed you, too. So has Joel." At that, Andy and Provenza looked at each other. Andy rolled his eyes. "Why yes, dinner tonight sounds just wonderful. We don't have a case, so I'll even be home early. All righty. I'll see you later! Bye!"

"Sounds like she's glad he's home, Flynn," Provenza muttered.

"Honestly? I hope she is," Andy answered. "My life would get a hell of a lot less complicated." So he was definitely free tonight. He sent a text to Sharon: "FBI home early. Still dinner?"

The reply: "Sure. My place, 7. Anything besides dinner?"

Andy smirked as he texted: "Lady's choice."

Her answer: "Bring your toothbrush, then."

Andy grinned to himself as he clicked off his cell.

When Andy got to her place, Sharon welcomed him inside and he could smell something cooking. "Smells good," he said.

"No big deal. Just spanakopita. Ever had it?"

Andy thought. "Little spinach and cheese things?"

"In phyllo dough. Yeah. My grandmother was Greek and I grew up eating those. I love them."

"Fine with me," he said.

"Good. Well, they've got some baking time left." She put her hands on Andy's face. "So I'd like to say hello again." She pulled his head to hers and kissed him softly. She stepped back then, and said, "I could get used to that."

"Is that so?" Andy replied. Sharon wasn't wearing those four-inch heels and he was always surprised that her head came just about up to his shoulder. So, he lifted her up to sit on the table in the foyer. He twined the fingers of his left hand in her hair, while his right hand went to the small of her back. His mouth came to hers, hot, insistent and sensual. He felt Sharon wrap her legs around him and she pressed herself against him.

"You sure you want to share me with Brenda?" he said wickedly as he kissed up and down her neck.

Sharon squirmed. "You pig. No, I want your undivided attention."

"I kind of thought so," he answered, and busied himself in kissing her.

Sharon finally succeeded in taking a breath. "I need to check on dinner."

"Sure," Andy said and lowered her to the floor.

Andy followed Sharon into the kitchen and she checked on their dinner and produced a green salad from the fridge. A pot of lemon rice was already resting on the stove. She took the baking pan out of the oven and said, "Help yourself."

"Looks great," he said.

After they ate, Sharon brought out cups of coffee and when she finished hers, she went around the table to Andy and sat on his lap, her legs on either side of his, facing him.

"Can I help you?" he teased.

"You sure can," she answered, unbuttoning his shirt.

"Want to take this somewhere more comfortable?"

"I don't think I want to wait," Sharon said.

Andy laughed. "How about that mile-wide sofa of yours? Just a couple of steps."

"If you insist," she said.

"Yeah, I think I do." Andy put his arms around Sharon and stood. She hung on and he swung her into his arms and carried her to the sofa. He leveraged himself over her and kissed her hungrily.

When Andy kissed her like that, Sharon's brain stopped working. All that registered was what he was doing to her. She just knew she wanted more of what he was doing. His hands were on her body, undoing her blouse, unclasping her bra and then, before she even had time to get her top completely off, his mouth was on her breasts, teasing them. Sharon was doing her best to get Andy's shirt off so she could feel his skin under her hands, and it finally hit the floor.

When Andy touched Sharon, he could lose himself in her body and not think about Brenda. He didn't want to think about her being in bed with the FBI guy, so he wanted the warm forgetfulness Sharon's body offered. He knew they were each getting a physical need fulfilled, even though he couldn't have what he truly wanted.

Sharon's flowing skirt just got pushed up around her hips. She didn't bother to take it off, just as she unfastened Andy's jeans and suggested he not worry about getting them off, either. So they ended up in a panting, half-dressed heap on her sofa.

Andy said, "Were you like desperate, or what? Too many hormone pills this morning or something?"

Sharon narrowed her eyes at him and tugged at his chest hair. He yelped and she said, "Poor word choice, Andy. No, I just found myself thinking about this past weekend all day long, and I wanted you again."

He grinned. "Nice to know someone wants me around."

"Especially when you can be such a pill," Sharon shot back.

Andy ran his hand down her bare thigh and she squirmed. "And you're never a pill, are you, Sharon? Next time you have to open an investigation on Major Crimes, I just want you to think about last weekend in Monterey. Maybe it'll change your perspective a little."

Sharon was actually a little afraid of that happening. "You can count on me to retain my objectivity."

"Is that so?" He kissed her again. "I'll remember you said that."

"How do I stand you, Andy Flynn?" Sharon said.

"Dunno," he answered. "I've asked myself that. I guess, in this area, anyway, we're just, well, compatible." His eyes twinkled wickedly at her.

"You're still a pig."

"And you love it." He nuzzled her hair and his mouth close to her ear, he said, "Oink."

Sharon had to laugh at that. "Incorrigible."

"That's a good way to put it," Andy answered.

Lying on the sofa with Sharon, kissing her and touching her was a fun way to spend an evening, but they both had to work the next day.

Andy kissed Sharon good night. "See you in the morning. Thanks for dinner. It was great, in case I didn't tell you."

"You told me, but you're welcome." She sighed. "Get outta here before I ask you to spend the night."

He grinned at Sharon, kissed her again and left.

As he drove home, Andy really hoped Sharon didn't have any feelings for him beyond liking his body and being a friend. He smacked the steering wheel in frustration. Why couldn't he want Sharon and not Brenda? But there it was. Something had to resolve itself, sooner or later.

Brenda lay awake. It was 2 a.m. She and Fritz had a nice dinner and of course, when they got home, he had definitely been in the mood. It was nice, as it generally was, but the whole time, all she could think about was Andy's hands and mouth, and how his body felt next to hers. She tried to remember the last time she had really wanted Fritz to make love to her. It had been a long, long time. She turned over, her back to him, and wished it was Andy lying next to her. Why couldn't she just love her husband? Fritz wasn't a bad guy, and he did care about her. Why did Andy Flynn have to attract her beyond any measure of good sense? Why did she always find herself wanting what she didn't need and couldn't have? The only thing was, she did need Andy. She needed him more than she had ever needed anyone.