A/N- Soooo, NSAIDs and ibuprofen post cardiac surgery: NSAIDs were generally NOT recommended after cardiac surgery. Seems like the general consensus now is that it's okay in the short-term, but taking something like prilosec to help your stomach get ahead of the game might not be a bad idea. IDK. I'm also threading the Stroh storyline through this- SORRY, I HEARD YOUR COMPLAINTS, HOLD ON- but it's not going to be the primary plot or anything. I'm just rather unhappy with how the show ended that story (among others, lol) and I want to fix it. Sharon raised Rusty better than that.
I was also looking up LAPD organization, and IA and FID are both subdivisions of Professional Standards. Both are run by a commander, and PSB is run by a Deputy Chief. Sharon was shortchanged, I do believe. On the other hand, Major Crimes is technically a part of Counter-Terrorism and Special Ops. It, and its sister divisions, are all run by Captains. The nearest commander runs Major Crimes and Emergency Services. Interesting. . .
All the computer stuff is garbage. I have no idea how the fuck they actually solved the case, either. Whatever. That basically just means I'm playing fast and loose with the timeline here.
Let's go have fun in this sandbox.
I was just guessing / At numbers and figures / Pulling the puzzles apart
Questions of science / Science and progress / Do not speak as loud as my heart
-Coldplay
It was Sharon, or rather the lack of her, that woke Andy. His wife had blocks of ice for feet, and she usually slept with her icicles tucked between his calves, or behind his knees if he let her. When they first started sleeping together, they had both found themselves at the bottom of a sharp learning curve. Sharon had spent the past twenty years sprawled across her bed, and suddenly, she was no longer allowed all of the space, pillows, and blankets, and the readjustment took time for both of them to figure out. She didn't like him breathing on her face at night, he was too tall to let her be the big spoon, and neither one of them liked sleeping back to back. They ended up sleeping in a tangle of limbs, legs overlapping one another. He liked sleeping with his arm over her, and she liked the extra warmth he provided, especially when he stole the blankets.
He slowly stretched, coming awake in the pre-dawn darkness. The sheets next to him were still warm, and his hand bumped into his wife as straightened his arms.
"Wha' time is it?" he mumbled.
"I haven't looked." She sounded much more awake than he felt.
He ran his hand down her arm, and suddenly realized she was damp with clammy sweat. He pushed himself up on one elbow and fumbled for his glasses as he checked his alarm clock. Five forty-five. He rolled over and found the focus didn't do much except sharpen the dark outline of Sharon in the moonlight. Even still, he could see that she was flat on her back, tense as a coiled spring.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing really."
"Sharon. . ."
There was a long silence before she spoke. "I think I rolled over in my sleep, and I could feel it."
He lay there quietly, trying to figure out what she meant. Felt what? "Are you in pain?"
She huffed a tired laugh. "I didn't feel like getting up and doing anything about it."
"Oh, babe, you should've woken me up."
"You're going back to work today. You need a good night's sleep."
"You're more important than that. I'll be right back." He slipped out from under the covers, wrinkling his nose at the cool night air. Her medications were all lined up in the kitchen, and he turned on the light to read the labels, momentarily blinding himself in the process. He shook two small pills into his palm, half-filled a glass with water and returned to the bedroom. He set everything down on Sharon's nightstand and then sat next to her to help her sit up. The first time she had woken overnight, her first night home, she had tried to sit up and get everything sorted out by herself. After that, she'd either woken him or soldiered through the remainder of the night on her own, dipping in and out of sleep. Despite her stoicism, he could tell she was still in some pain, especially at night, though it was generally better during the day. He was rapidly discovering she concealed it well, but her body language still gave her away.
He held out his offerings, and she sighed.
"Do you think I could try ibuprofen instead?" They both knew she wasn't truly asking permission so much as using Andy as a sounding board. They both knew ibuprofen would likely do very little in comparison to her prescribed oxycodone.
"Do you think it would help enough?"
She sighed. "I don't like those." She flicked a finger towards his hand. "They don't do anything except make me so tired I don't care. And they make me cry."
He smiled at her. "I've noticed." There was no point in denying it; the least he could do for her was to be honest. It just wasted energy to dance around the point. She was right, too, as usual. For the past two days, her morning dose of narcotics had been followed by tearful wallowing in bed as Andy and Rusty went about their morning routines. By the time they had breakfast going, she had managed to get over the hump, and would join them for a cup of tea. She would pick at whatever a they'd cooked, but didn't seem too interested in actually eating it.
"The prescription is only for a week's worth of oxy," she said. "It's the third day, and Dr. Torres said it's fine if I don't use the whole script's worth."
"He also said it was fine to use it for the whole week."
"I'd like to try not using it today, just. . . See how it goes."
Andy let his hands rest on his knees. It wasn't his decision to make, no matter his level of agreement. The most he could do was present her with a cohesive argument, and he was struggling to come up with any counters to her points. Hell, she was smart, brilliant, even, but he was struggling to trust her completely with her self-care. She so rarely put herself first. He finally sighed. It still wasn't his choice, and that was what the whole mess boiled down to.
"The doc said it was important that you take the meds before your pain gets out of control."
"Yes." Her eyebrow arched, and she sipped from the glass of water he'd brought.
"So, promise me you'll take the oxy if the ibuprofen doesn't help, okay?" There was no way to hold her to it, now that he was going back to work, but he trusted her. Trust, he knew, was the foundation of relation. She trusted him not to drink, to do his job well, to care for her family when she couldn't. He trusted her in the same way: to take care of herself and her duties at his Commander, to guide their team along better paths than they could have provided for themselves.
"Yes." She sighed heavily. "I will." She pressed his fingers back over the little white tablets. "I can't believe you're going back today."
"Say the word, and I'll stay here."
She smiled at him, teeth flashing in the low light. "No, I already have two nursemaids and a security detail. You'd be redundant, honey."
He laughed quietly as he got up to get the ibuprofen from the bathroom cabinet. "The kid's just doing his best, Sharon. He's a legal intern, not a medical one."
"Oh, thank God for that." Her words carried from the dark bedroom. "I don't think I could handle two Rickys."
He flipped the bathroom light off and rejoined her on the bed. "Two Rickys?" he queried.
"Emily went into a profession I understood and loved. Ballet was like a second language for me, at one point. Pun not intended," she added. "Ricky. . . Well, computers in general are. . . I wouldn't say completely past me, but they're certainly not something I'm fluent in. All I know of cybersecurity is the little bits Mike tells us, and, to be honest, most of it sounds like gibberish. And yet, that is what Ricky loves and excels at." She shared a smile with her husband. "So, Rusty going into medicine would be a whole 'nother foreign concept. Legalese, on the other hand," she held out her hand for Andy to shake the red tabs into. "Legalese is my mother tongue."
Andy groaned. "Don't I know it." He set the pill bottle on the nightstand with the two tabs she'd protested earlier, then carefully climbed over his wife to get to his side of the bed.
"Lazy bones," she drawled.
"Anything for another minute in bed with you." He switched off the alarm on his clock. No point in leaving it on since he was already up. He leaned over again and kissed her slowly and luxuriously. She sighed against his mouth.
"Oh, I may just have you call in sick today, after all," she mumbled.
"Abuse of power, Commander. I'll have to inform IA."
"Mmm, go ahead." She combed her fingers back through his hair. "I still have a few friends there. I'm sure I could take care of a single complaint quite easily."
"Complaint? I don't have a complaint."
She giggled, and he was secretly pleased. There had been so few occasions to laugh recently, and he treasured each one. There had been so many close calls and near misses over the last couple months that he was learning to take nothing for granted. He wanted to believe that they'd have time ahead for laughter and love, but their treacherous hearts were giving them a run for the money.
After a minute, they broke apart, and Andy tucked Sharon's hair back behind her ear.
"I'll go get breakfast started. What do you feel like?"
"Mmm." She kept one arm wrapped around herself as she eased out of bed. "Would you be offended if I told you just toast and tea would suffice?"
"Not at all." He picked up her glass, swiped her heavier robe from the bed, and followed her to the kitchen. She kept a slow pace, but he eventually got her settled on one of the high chairs with the robe over her shoulders. "What were you saying woke you up? he asked as he filled the tea kettle. "I don't think you ever finished."
"Hmm." She was quiet as he finished fixing her tea and a cup of instant coffee for himself. When he'd moved in, she'd been appalled to find that he drank instant, but gave up the argument after he pointed out that it was still better than the average breakroom sludge. She cradled the mug in both hands as he set about slicing bread and pulling out other breakfast ingredients.
"I think," she paused and shifted in her chair. "I think I had a bad dream. I don't know. It felt so real." She trailed off.
"Wanna go on?" he prompted her.
"There's nothing to tell, really. It's fading away the longer I'm awake. I just remember. . . I thought I felt it move. The LVAD or the wiring, I don't know, and that woke me up." She shivered. "Eugh. What are you planning on doing at work today?"
The abrupt change in subject confused him for a moment. "Uh, the usual, I suppose. Making deals with dirtbags. Getting them off the streets."
She rolled her eyes. "Andy."
He turned back to the stovetop and his cooking. It was perhaps worth providing Sharon with the bare bones of the investigation to keep her from worrying about it later. "We're still working on Stroh. Provenza told me some of it yesterday."
"We've been working that case for close to a decade now, off and on."
"Was it really that long ago?" He bent down to look for cookie cutters in the lower row of cabinets. Sharon had a box of them somewhere.
"Mm. I was reading through Brenda's old reports a while back, and the first ones are dated 2007."
"God." He found what he wanted and laid out four pieces of bread, pressing the fox-shaped cutter into each one. "I can't believe it's been that long." He tossed the center bread pieces into the frying pan and turned to face Sharon with his coffee. "I guess it was. That was the year Chief Howard proposed," He stared out the window, trying to remember. "And we had the PCH killer, oh yeah," he grinned at Sharon. "The Chief fell into a dumpster that year, too."
"Excuse me?"
"Yeah, yeah," Andy turned briefly to flip the toast around. "I don't remember what we were working, but there was a body in a dumpster or somethin' and the Chief was sitting on the edge, and she fell in."
Sharon chuckled. "As much as I like her, I'd still pay good money to see that."
"Hey, Mom." Rusty still sounded half-asleep.
"Hi, Mrs. Flynn. Lieutenant."
She turned and found Rusty and Gus making their way to the coffee pot. Somewhere, during one of his falling-outs with Rusty, Gus had slipped back to formalities. Sharon had insisted it wasn't necessary, but also didn't mind being called Flynn. Gus had been nothing but polite and helpful the last few weeks, and she was struggling with her feelings about him. He was a very nice young man, and he and Rusty seemed to be on an upswing, but she was tiring of their near-constant roller-coaster love affair. Young love, Andy had reminded her one night in the hospital. It does what it wants.
"Good morning." She smiled at both of them and ruffled Rusty's hair as he passed.
"Hey, kid."
"Andy."
"Gus."
Men, Sharon thought. Men and their one-word conversations. She stifled an eyeroll. "What's the plan for today?"
Rusty slouched against the counter with his mug. "I gave Lieutenant Provenza all my stuff the other day, and they're kind of taking over from there. I mean, I can keep looking for links, but-" he shrugged and glanced at Andy. "You guys actually get paid to do this stuff, and I still have work for Andrea."
Andy pulled plates down from the shelf and began dishing out breakfast. "You're going to the DA's office then?"
"Uhh. . . I think she's still out on bereavement. She'll be back Wednesday. Tomorrow. But yeah, I should probably go in." He accepted the plates from Andy and passed one to Gus.
"Gus?"
"Same old, Lieutenant. Just working." He and Rusty shared a look and slipped out to the dining room.
It took a minor balancing act to coordinate his plate, Sharon's, and his coffee, but Andy made it over to the breakfast bar and sat next to his wife.
"Egg in a frame!" She looked down in surprise. "I didn't realize what you were doing."
"And you call yourself a detective." He used cookie cutters to take the center out of the bread, and he'd found that out of his wife's incredible collection of the things, the fox-shaped one provided the best egg-to-toast ratio.
She slowly nibbled at the animal cutout, eating the extremities first. "It's going to be so quiet today."
"The kid'll be home by lunch, I'm sure. There can't be that much to do without Andrea. And your detail will be outside." They had managed to collapse their various security details overnight, but generally had to re-up the numbers during the day with both boys working. Sharon had tried to protest her own, until Provenza had sat down with her and told her he would go over her head and request it from the brass if she didn't agree to it.
"Sharon, look, it's just two officers-"
"Andy, I know you're worried, but this building is much more secure than it was even a few years ago. Management worked on the security after the last time. I'll be fine."
"You just left the hospital today, and I'm going back-"
"And most of the last week in the cardiac wing was just for recuperation." She laid a hand on his knee, eyes wide. "It's been two weeks. I'll be fine."
"Commander." Provenza's gravelly tone interrupted them. He and Patrice had come over for dinner and kept work out of the conversation until now. "Take the detail."
She turned her cooling gaze on him. "I don't-"
"-see the need for it, yeah, I know. Think about it this way, it'll put our minds at ease, knowing you're safe."
"I know my way around my service weapon just as well as every other officer does, and I daresay I'm a better shot than most of them." She still held marksmanship records on the force.
"That's not the point, Sharon. It shouldn't come to that, but regardless, you're sick. You're not at your best right now. You need to rest and get your strength back-" he held up a hand to cut her off. "And you can't do that if you're perpetually on edge, trying to watch your guard." He softened. "I'll go to the Chief about this, if I have to. It'll have to go on record."
She let her head drop back against the sofa, and rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms. "I'm so tired of this."
"I know, babe." Andy pulled her close, sitting in the space Provenza vacated. "I know."
"It'll just be strange," she said. "Not being surrounded by people all day. Maybe I could come visit you over lunch?" Her face brightened at the thought.
"If you eat breakfast and can walk the length of the hall outside without getting winded, sure." He pushed her plate closer, and she made a huff of annoyance. The pain medications kept her appetite down and made her sleepy, neither effect helping her regain the physical strength she'd lost over the last couple weeks. It amazed Andy how much difference the time had made. Just a few months before, she would regularly rise early to run a few miles before work, and now just walking the length of the building and back left her sweaty and breathing hard. Nevertheless, she said she felt better than she had been her last days at work. Torres had told them to expect that, that simply increasing her heart function with the surgery would immediately make her feel better.
"I'll work on it, boss," she replied lightly. She made deliberate eye contact and took a large bite of egg. "See?"
He leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Thank you."
"Thank you, too." She reached over and straightened his tie. "Have fun at work today."
"Oh, loads of fun. Provenza's temporary promotion is going to his head." Andy's smile belied his words.
"Take care of yourself, okay? No rash decisions or unnecessary risks, not with Stroh so close." She pulled on his tie gently.
"We will. We're being careful. No one walks alone."
"Good." She stood with him and tightened the sash of her robe. "I guess you'd better be going, hmm?"
"Yeah."
They walked to the door, past the dishes the boys had left on the table, and the blanket-nest Sharon had on the sofa. Andy shrugged into his jacket, and checked that he had his wallet, keys, badge, and gun. Sharon picked up his phone from the shelf under the spiny mirror and pressed it into his hand.
"Have a good day." She rose on her toes and kissed him. "Love you."
"Love you, too, babe."
Andy leaned back against the elevator wall, grateful he was the only one in it. He was a little later to work than usual, and perhaps that was why he was alone. The elevator had risen to the third floor before he realized there was a poster with his wife's photo printed upon it tacked to the message board. He straightened, frowning, and leaned forward to look at it.
Whoever had made the poster had chosen a formal headshot of Sharon. It wasn't her uniformed LAPD one, but one of her in her cream dress and a blazer, beaming widely at the camera. He could tell it was a few years old, but not where it had been taken. Andy turned his attention to the words below.
Benefit Spaghetti Dinner, Thurs. Jan 18, 5-8 PM, ninth floor breakroom
The Counter-Terrorism/SOB division is holding a benefit dinner for Cmdr. Sharon Raydor, Major Crimes. Cmdr. Raydor has served with the LAPD for over 30 years, and is currently on indeterminate medical leave due to unexpected illness.
She and her husband Lt. II Andrew Flynn are in need of both sick days and medical leave, so any donation of unused leave time is much appreciated. Paperwork will be available at this time.
Andy took a quick picture on his phone to show Sharon later. She hadn't mentioned anything, so he doubted she knew anything about it. He stared at the flyer a moment longer. Lieutenant, second class, was his formal rank, and since he didn't use the full title, few people remembered it. The wording on the poster was also dry, brief, and very familiar.
When the elevator doors opened, he made a beeline for Provenza's desk. Sanchez glanced up from the files he had opened.
"Sir."
"Hey, Julio," he replied shortly. "Louie, do you anything about that poster in the elevator?"
Provenza lowered his crossword to stare skeptically at his partner. "You clearly know the answer to that, already, Flynn."
"Yeah, well, most people haven't been around long enough to remember I actually did get promoted a couple of times."
"Once upon a time, when the world was young, the LAPD did promote its own on a semi-regular basis."
Amy caught the exchange as she walked in and snickered. "Was that when dinosaurs still walked the earth, Lieutenant?"
"Watch who you're calling old, Sykes. Just because you weren't here. . ."
"I'm not saying I'm not getting to be a dinosaur, too. I'm just saying I'm more of a Cretaceous kind of girl, and you're more. . . Triassic."
Provenza clearly missed the reference, but Tao barked out a laugh before turning his attention to Andy. "Nice to see you back, Andy. How's the Commander?"
"A little stir-crazy already, but doing better. She-" he raised his hands to form quotations. "And I quote- sends her love." He threw his jacket over his chair. "Mike, is it normal for her to be off her pain meds already?" It was still bothering him.
"Uhh. . ." Tao folded his hands behind his head and spun in his chair. "It's been almost three weeks, yeah, that makes sense. I mean, some people are on them longer or shorter than average, but it depends on pain tolerance and how she's healing, the skill of the surgeon, etcetera."
"So it's fine that she's not taking them."
"If she feels okay, then yes. There are some studies that say-" he caught Andy's expression. "Nevermind that. Yes. It should be fine."
"Thanks. I just worry." He had already turned to his computer and missed the smirk that Provenza exchanged with the rest of the room.
"So, where're we at with the whole Stroh business? I'm ready for it to be over."
"Aren't we all?" Buzz muttered.
Julio snorted. "Yeah. So, sir, we traced that account in Cypress to a Gwendoline Stroh, and she's Stroh's mother. We located her, and she's got dementia, sir, so that account is being managed by Hunt Stanford, her other son. He didn't know who was spending the money in the account- he thought it was his mother, we suspect it was Stroh- so he closed it down. Uh, that was late last week."
"We didn't feel the need to update you since you had your hands full with the Commander's care."
As much as Andy wanted to argue, he couldn't fault Provenza's logic. The case, while important, was secondary to Sharon. Being in the loop would have just stressed both of them more. "Yeah, okay."
"And uh, apparently Stroh found his brother as well."
"Aw, hell. You mean-"
"Yep." Amy picked up the narrative. "Stroh tracked his brother down- the brother had refused security by the way, so we can't get sued over that- and killed him after the brother reopened the account. That was last night."
"Shit. We're so close."
"Yeah. We know Stroh had another account to move his mother's money into, and we're trying to find it. Unfortunately, it went into some kind of digital wallet, and uh," Amy turned to look at Tao.
"Bit-coin."
"What coin?"
"Bit-coin. It's an online form of currency, and the going exchange is about one coin for eleven thousand US dollars. Stroh's package is in the range of one-hundred and seventy thousand, or about fifteen Bit-coin." He stood and began walking towards dark conference room.
Andy watched, perplexed, as the rest of the squad followed.
"Flynn, get your ass in here." Provenza waved him over.
"What the hell?" He squeezed into the office behind everyone else, and Tao closed the door. The office, while spacious, was not designed for eight people to comfortably view the computer on the desk.
"The whole murder room has been bugged. The Smartboard and everyone's phones, except yours, the Commander's, and Lieutenant Provenza's. There was a digital virus that the rest of us all managed to share. The lieutenant was only spared because he had his phone off." Tao rolled his eyes. "But this room and the Commander's office are safe."
"But, we just-"
"We're a step behind Stroh and his accomplice. Everything we told you is in the past. They must assume we're tracking the money. We wouldn't be any kid of detectives if we weren't. This, however, is new information." Tao spun the laptop around to reveal what looked like a satellite map. "We're very close to figuring out the physical location of whoever transferred Gwendoline Stroh's money. That kind of transaction leaves an electronic trace, and- with the FBI's help- we've been tracking it. Whoever set it up rerouted it through several different servers and probably a few physical computers. It was planned well in advance. Last night, we were tracing it to Amsterdam, but we're almost done now, I think. We've localized it to Los Angeles, and we're attempting to get an address."
"How long?"
Tao shook his head. "Mm. Could be any minute, could be a few hours. Depends on the level of cybersecurity. I'd guess less than an hour now."
Provenza nodded. "You all heard the man. Get suited up. I want everyone in vests, helmets if you have them, I'll coordinate with SWAT. We're taking no chances today. And, as much as it pains me to say it, alive is preferable. I know we all want to kill the bastard and whoever's helping him, but unless he shoots first. . . Tao, you're the field coordinator. Flynn and I will stay here and coordinate the divisions. Flynn-" Provenza cut his friend off. "I know this is important to you, but you're not cleared for the field. We've got to do this by the books."
Andy waited until the rest of the team had left the room before he burst out angrily. "This has been years in the making. You can't cut me out now!"
"I'm not cutting you out," Provenza growled. "Don't you know I want this as badly as you? We're still in the game, just at the sideline, coaching. We aren't 35 anymore. We're closer to double that, both of us. Part of leading this squad is knowing when to step back and let the young ones loose. You can't tell her I said this, but Sykes is more than ready to spread her wings. Sanchez and Tao are both capable of leading this division if you, me, and Sharon all retired today."
"Rusty-"
"Is as much mine as yours." Provenza looked furious, a rarity. "The kid sticks his nose in too many places, but I love him like one of my own." He turned to face the window for a moment, trying to regain control before he faced Andy again. "Besides, we're already hosting one spaghetti dinner in the breakroom. I'm not going to give it up for another evening if you get yourself shot."
Andy softened. Despite his bark, the old man truly cared. They were all in over their heads and floundering. "Yeah, okay. Thank you." He sighed. "I'm just tired of always being a step behind."
"I know." Provenza clapped his shoulder slowly. "I know. Being older and supposedly wiser doesn't make it any easier."
"Yeah." They stood in silence, watching the bustle in the other room, before Andy spoke again. "I'm just going to call Sharon, give her a heads up. She should be in on this."
"Is she up to it?"
He shrugged. "I think so. She'll be more pissed if I tell her after the fact, and she knows she can't do anything about it, so she'll be alright."
"Very well. I'll meet you in electronics in ten minutes." He slipped out of the office, leaving Andy alone.
He punched in Sharon's number rather than using the speed dial, taking the time to organize his thoughts as he paced between the conference room and her office. He felt like he'd jumped off the deep end of the poolside not knowing how to swim. For so long, Philip Stroh had just been a ghost, nothing real. He'd had an explosive comeback and then vanished from the country and, to be honest, Andy had all but forgotten about him. More than nine times out of ten, once a perp made it off the continent with an off-shore account, he wouldn't be back. He also knew Stroh couldn't have planned it, the timing couldn't have been worse. As a team, their focus was fractured. They were doing their best to keep it together, but over the years, Sharon had eased into their hearts and conquered.
The line only rang twice before the woman in question picked up. "Hi. I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon."
"Hey, babe. I wasn't expecting to call so soon, either."
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Things are just moving a lot faster than I thought."
"Oh." She wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't one to feel overwhelmed, but she wasn't sure why he was calling either. "Andy?"
"I just wanted to give you an update."
She paused. ". . . What? I thought-"
"I know, but I think it's important."
"Okay." He could almost hear her frown over the phone.
"They're closing in on Stroh, Sharon. Mike says they might have a location within an hour."
"What?!"
"Hey, hey, hey, calm down, calm down. Nothing's happening yet."
"Where-"
"No," he said gently. "You aren't on this case officially. I just wanted to let you know."
There was a long silence. "I would drive over myself, if I could." Torres hadn't cleared her to drive yet, but said he likely would at her follow-up appointment.
"I know. Provenza and I aren't going anywhere, either. We're sending the rest of them out in the field with SOB when we get a location."
"Oh, good. Mike is taking point?"
"Mm." A thought suddenly hit Andy. "Where's the kid?"
"Rusty?"
"No, Sykes."
She snorted. "He went over to Andrea's office with his detail, said he wanted to grab some papers. I think he was thinking of swinging by to see you."
"See me?"
"Well, everyone in general. I think he's a little bored with the condo."
"That's fair." He remembered who he was speaking to as the words left him mouth. "Sorry." She would be stuck around home far longer than either he or Rusty.
"What if I got a taxi downtown?"
Andy froze, one hand in his pocket, rifling for toothpicks. "What?" He must have misheard.
"A taxi. I can't drive, and you can't take time off to do it, but I could get a ride."
"No, Sharon."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" he sputtered. "Sharon, come on."
She sounded calm and perfectly sensible. "I'd like to be with you. And Rusty."
"Sharon, no, you know how it goes around here on an op. It's exactly the opposite of what you're supposed to be doing. High-stress, work, murderers."
"I'd like to see this out."
He groaned, recognizing the same argument he'd made to Provenza not half an hour before. He paced her office, trying to formulate options, and came up empty handed. Option one, refuse to allow his wife to observe the arrest of a lifetime. He'd sleep on the couch for a few nights, he was sure. She'd be pissed as hell, that was also a surety, but she'd be safe. Option two, allow her to meet him at the murder room. She'd still be safe, he'd be off the sofa. She'd be stressed, though, watching it happen. She also wasn't the type of person who was allowed things. The first option might not take off, let alone fly.
The LVAD was supposed to allow her near-normal cardiac function; that's what all Andy's research said. When he was reading up on it, that first week in the hospital, he'd found that once she recovered from the surgery, she could go running again. She could watch Rusty's favorite jump-scare horror movies with him. Theoretically, she could yell at chiefs, special agents, and suspects again, too.
"Goddammit!" He kicked her desk in frustration, and, in typical Sharon fashion, it didn't budge in the face of his anger.
"Andy, please."
He needed more time. "How are you feeling?"
The frustrated hiss from the phone gave away Sharon's rising temper. "I am so sick of everyone asking that!" She snapped.
He tried to backpedal. "Look, I just-"
"I feel fine, Andy. I feel, I feel, so, so much better than I did. It hurts, yes, physically, and emotionally, knowing I can't protect my children and you from this, but I don't feel so tired. It doesn't hurt like it did last week or the week before. I have it in hand now. I'm ill, yes, but I'm not broken, Andy, I'm still here, I'm still here!" Her voice broke, and he could tell she was crying. He took a deep breath, feeling like an ass. She was his wife. He loved her, but beyond that, it was his duty to honor her.
"Sharon. I'm sorry."
There was a sniffle, and then "What for?"
"I'm being a jerk."
She hiccupped. "Well, you're not alone."
"You're not a jerk, you're a Sith Lord. Sith Lady?"
"Thank you, darling." She paused again before continuing. "I understand."
"Understand?"
"Why you think I should stay home."
"I get why you want to come in, too." He looked out through the window at the murder room. It was empty now, except for Provenza, staring at the Smartboard, where a drone's view of LA lit up the screen. "We've been with this since the Chief was here, but you've been here, too. I guess I've forgotten that. You might not have been our boss at the time, but you were here for that whole audit, and the whole business with the Chief at the end. You were the first one to her house after Howard. I forgot, and I'm sorry."
"It's okay."
"No, it's not. We're a team, and I didn't respect that fact."
"Even teams can argue, Andy, and I'm sorry, too."
They were both silent, and he watched Provenza through the window. He could hear occasional words from the radio exchange. "Tell you what, I'll keep you appraised, hell, we can keep the phone line open, but you stay home and take care of yourself, okay?"
"What is there for me to do here?"
"Sometimes, all you can do is wait. We're not the A-team anymore, and uh, I guess I'm okay with that. I've got you, and the kids, and it looks like this might be over soon."
"I want to be a part of this." Her tone had lost its fire.
"I know, but I want you to be a part of after this, too."
"I'm okay, Andy. Really. Cardiomyopathy is something many people live with. People live their normal lives with LVADs, too. The surgery was a little over two weeks ago, now. I'm feeling so much better. Dr. Torres said- "
"He said he's not letting you come back to work, babe." At least, not for a while.
"I know, but he said I could probably get back to my normal routine after our next appointment, and that's only a few days away."
Andy watched as Rusty walked into the room, flanked by his uniforms. The young man looked around, waved to Andy, and turned to talk to Provenza.
"What if I make you a deal?" Her presence in the office was beginning to look inevitable, but perhaps he could still lay down some ground rules.
He could hear the amusement in her voice. "Let's hear it."
"Come downtown." It seemed inevitable at this point. "Stay here with us and the kid, but head home if this goes past five."
"You're really okay with that?"
"If you say you feel up to it, I believe you. It's pretty quiet here, since everyone will be out with SOB, and you're right; it's not like home will be any more restful. It's safe here, too. I get to see you all day."
"You see me all day, every day."
"Yeah, and now I'm used to it. I miss not seeing you."
She snorted. "Mmhmm."
"Flynn!" Provenza yelled from across the room. "Are you going to actually do any work today, or are you just here as a decoration?"
"I think I hear your wife calling you," Sharon said.
"Don't let him hear you say that. It'll go straight to his ego."
"Can't have that."
"I'll see you in a couple hours, then?"
"Yes. It'll take me a while to get ready and then drive down. I'll let my detail know."
"Call me before you leave?"
"I will."
"You're sure you feel up to this? The ibuprofen is doing okay?"
"Yes and yes."
"If you change your mind, that's okay."
"Honey. I know. If I change my mind, I'll call you. I'll call before I leave here. I'm a big girl."
He smiled at her words. "Okay. I love you."
"I love you, too."
A/N- This is my last update before classes resume. I'm not going to be in labs for a million hours/week (yay!), so I'll continue to update on regular basis. Sorry not much happened. The next chapter, as you can guess, will be a big one. Reviews are love. Thank y'all for the follows and favorites, too. (:
Also, Kadi219 just blew my fucking mind with the first chapter of "Fade To Nothing," so uh, you should defs scroll down and click on it. And read it. And review it once you can think in whole sentences again. Her writing, as usual, is incredible.
