Part VIII; Light
-o-
Hope had the hue of a light color; weightless and blissful, a color expanding behind your eyes into a myriad of vivid and fanciful imagery. Hope had latched onto his heart, tugged him in directions he knew he shouldn't walk. Taunted him as he watched from afar, enchanted him when he was near. Hope lingered in the space between them; almost electrifying in its beguile.
Everything seemed to have changed between them; an electricity of promise in their midst, tied into their hearts and tricking them along a path they had both cursed to death a long time ago.
Joe's place had transformed as well, the atmosphere now bursting with potential and warmth. If it had been a sanctuary before it now expanded and curled around them – went with them as they left their regular secluded corner at Joe's and ventured into the real world.
They would sip their customary coffee just like they had done the past three years. They would talk about baseball, like usual. But the space between them was almost nonexistent. Why sit across from her when he could sit beside her, feel the warmth of her envelop him and enjoy the feeling of being near. Hope was a dangerous flavor in their friendship but neither of them seemed to care, Andy mused. It was like a connection that had roots deep in their hearts, intertwined into their ribs and lungs and it intensified whenever they came close enough, made it hard to breathe, hard to exist weren't it for the intoxicating essence of each other; they knew it was there but they never bothered to talk about it.
The week before they had shared a cup of coffee, leaving imprints of their lips overlapping on the rim of the cup. Sharon had given him a secret smile as she regarded him her head in her hands; and for a very long moment it felt as if nothing bad had ever been between them. It felt as if they were 25 years again and had nothing to worry about and no darkness in their past, only working their share of the nighttime beat as rookies.
The other day she had held his hand under the table, fingers interlocking and warm.
Last night he had kissed her cheek in the hallway outside the elevator at work, the place deserted but nonetheless anyone could have walked by and seen it.
Hope percolated into his being, under his skin and was coursing through his blood, infecting him dangerously.
Yet he drew a stick figure of her complete with a witchy-pointy-hat. His new gang would never understand his hope, would never understand the history he had with the woman. They would never understand that small petty things like nicknames and drawings on a whiteboard, grumbling and complaining never bothered Sharon that much. She took it as a sign that she was doing her job. Hell, major crimes had their own nicknames outside their own department; people talked about Miss Atlanta behind her back, bitched about Provenza and Andy himself. Andy still talked with some of his old buddies in robbery/homicide but a lot of the newcomers didn't really like his presence that much.
Sometimes, he thought that their workplace reminded him too much of a juvenile playground.
Nonetheless he grinned when Provenza drew a broomstick to accompany his crude drawing. Sharon would either arch an eyebrow and hum, or tilt her head with a half-amused look. Good thing Provenza didn't know that.
-o-
Hope was dangerous, Andy thought for the umpteenth time. It made him unhinged; he could feel the ground beneath him solidly yet felt as if he was not standing on anything at all; it was very disconcerting. Hope; that was the reason he stood in front of Sharon's apartment ready to ring the doorbell. Hope flared within him like a beacon of light; warm and comforting. It mesmerized him, he mused, entranced him into a cocoon of invincibility – why else would he even contemplate stepping outside the careful, fragile boundaries of his relationship with Sharon and invade her life. He hadn't even brought coffee, he suddenly panicked – but it was too late to turn back now, he had already rung the bell.
He felt as if the world stood still, holding its breath and letting time stop – why did it take so long to answer the effing door! Hope was the direct route to full-blown panic, Andy thought, for he was indeed in a state of intense panic that made him twitch with restlessness.
Finally the door opened. And a red-haired teenage boy looked gloomily at him from behind a curtain of unkempt hair. Green eyes so reminiscent of Sharon's. Those small lips like an exact replica. It was daunting and threw his panic into overload.
"Um," he stammered, "Is Sharon home?"
"Who are you?" the kid asked him in a suspicious tone, and Andy would have done the same if a stranger had knocked on his momma's door and looked as confused as he probably did.
"Friend from work," Andy managed to reply, smiling at the kid as his faculties came back to him. That was the thing about panic; it came and went. And right now, it seemed beyond silly to panic about this situation. Sharon wouldn't mind; they had never laid down rules regarding visiting each other. He was being ridiculous.
"You don't work in internal affairs!" the kid said snottily and Andy had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.
"The LAPD does consist of more than just internal affairs, you know," he replied back with an equal measure of causticity. If the kid thought he could scare Andy away with a little attitude he had another thing coming.
"Oh yeah"
"Yeah. Now is your mother home?"
The kid shrugged noncommittally and Andy felt he was just seconds away from hollering Sharon's name into the door opening when her voice came unexpectedly from just inside the apartment; "Sam!"
She appeared in the doorway beside her son, giving Andy an apologetic look while she regarded her son with narrowed eyes.
"Mom, this guy wanna talk to you," the kid grinned and quickly left the doorway.
Sharon sighed, "Sorry; he's in one of his delightful moods"
Andy smiled, it didn't matter. Just the sight of her standing in the door opening in an oversized cardigan and a warm smile and the world could explode, he would not notice.
"Hi Ray," he said with a silly smile, "I forgot the coffee"
"Hi Andy," she replied with an equally silly smile.
They would most likely have stood there like two bumbling idiots for eternity hadn't it been for the grumpy voice of a teenager; "You gonna stand there all day, mom!"
The shared a look and rolled their eyes in sync; and Sharon opened the door further and Andy went inside. She took his jacket while he was busy looking around the hallway, cataloguing everything from the color of the walls to the paintings of landscapes hanging in the foyer.
"Good thing I have a coffee machine, hhmm," she whispered conspiratorially to him, leading him into the kitchen.
The surly teenager occupied the kitchen, his eyes alive as they followed the form of his mother but glued themselves to Andy with what could only be described as distrust.
"Sammy, this is Andy Flynn – from the Major Crimes unit," Sharon introduced Andy as she made a beeline to her coffee machine.
"Major Crimes!" the kid exclaimed and his eyes glared even harder at Andy as Sharon sighed once again.
"We used to be partners Andy and me, Sam," Sharon explained as she directed a glare at her son.
Andy felt at home despite the hostility seething from the kid. It had a certain feel of calm domesticity to it; lounging in Sharon's kitchen as the smell of coffee wafted through the air and her kid was obviously feeling defensive about his mother.
"Oh," the kid replied to his mother with a small grin, then turned his stare back to Andy, still a hard glint in his eyes; "You the one my father hated?"
The color left Sharon's face and Andy heard her small gasp of surprise. Her eyes flickered from Andy to her son an almost panicked look in their green depths.
What an obstinate yet astute kid, Andy thought with a wry smile. He answered the kid with a grin as well; "Yeah, that would be me"
"Oh," the kid laughed, as if it made all the difference in the world, "Mom, you could have told me your boyfriend was coming over, you know. I would have made myself sparse."
"Well, why don't you go do your homework then, Mister," Sharon retorted back and Andy watched as mom and son stared at each other, identical in their minute narrowing of eyes and same small lift of the corners of their lips. He nearly chuckled at the picture they made; almost cute in their quirky mannerisms.
But Sharon was a master in the art of saying everything with a look and the kid shrugged and left the kitchen with a 'sure' and another snotty smile directed at Andy.
"Wauw," Andy breathed, "what a piece of teen drama you've got, huh"
Sharon laughed, "This! This was nothing – you should see him in his natural environment"
"What? – the zoo?"
She laughed again.
"I think I would prefer a monkey – can't you train them?" she enquired with a barely constrained smile.
"Nah, they fling their own poo," Andy deadpanned.
He laughed together with her, watching as she approached him, her head tilted.
"What are you doing here, Andy? Not that I don't enjoy your company, but?"
"I'm changing the rules," he told her with smirk. And there it was again that blasted hope; it made him unhinged certainly and too confident for his own good apparently.
"Rules? I didn't know we had rules?" She was humoring him; maybe hope inflicted her the same way it affected him.
"Oh, you didn't read the memo I sent you?"
She leaned closer and he felt that light-headedness associated only with her claim him again, reeling him into a puddle of flittering and flickering, tingling and twitching.
She stood on tiptoe and poked his nose gently; "I don't read memos"
He barely had time to contemplate her likewise giddy mood before she turned and went to the coffee machine, pouring black liquid into two coffee mugs.
It didn't really matter though; they had moved beyond Joe's now. And the world had not imploded – well the outside world hadn't. Andy's world felt like a trembling mountain when an earthquake struck, like everything was possible.
Hope was maybe not that dangerous after all.
-o-
They stumbled into each other in the hallway; darkness outside and fluorescent, artificial light inside the building. He felt gravity pull him closer to her, tugging and pulling, like a magnet.
Their eyes found each other; expressive and glinting; an entangled gaze of shared understanding.
Andy felt outside himself, high as if he was on empowering drugs. He quickly looked around, seeing no one in sight. It was close to midnight and most had left long ago. He needed to connect with her, feel the strings between their hearts realign.
He stepped closer – and closer still when she didn't move. He tugged a strand behind an ear, tilted her chin upwards, and caressed her jaw with a finger.
"You can call me a dick if it'll make you feel better," he whispered, trying to coax a smile out of her. He got pursed lips and a semi smile, too weak to be entirely warm. He had been a dick certainly; but it was difficult when she came parading into Major Crimes, wreaking havoc and putting the chief on needles of ire.
"I want to yell at you but I don't think I really want to – you know the feeling?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
Looking around he saw no one. "Come here," he pulled her closer.
He could feel his skin tingling as he guided her into the nearest room, locking the door behind him with a click.
This was most likely the reason she hadn't told him about the separation. This was the reason hope was a dangerous tool to put into their hands.
To hell with it, Andy thought, bringing his lips to hers in a quick rush, his hands holding her steady. She sighed into the kiss, melted against him. He melted into her as well, the sudden familiarity and rush of emotions tumbling inside him, enough to overwhelm him. He hadn't kissed her in sixteen years. He hadn't been this close to her in sixteen years (He still didn't count the mistake in-between the sixteen years; it was buried deep in denial). Her arms wound around his waist, trembling and unsure – he felt out of control as well.
This was most definitely the reason she hadn't told him about the separation – but oh god, it felt good.
He was vaguely aware of being in a supply closet and for a brief second he wondered what would happen should Provenza or the chief walk in but it was a thought that didn't last very long. Sharon kissed him back, soft and pliant lips caressing his – gentle. Her hands however pulled him closer, digging into his shirt and his skin almost painfully, and he knew the feeling. Afraid she would suddenly disappear as well and this was just a figment of his imagination. He held unto her just as tightly.
"I know… you think… this is complicated," he said in between kisses, "but it's really not." "It's simple."
She smiled into his kiss, drew back, "Andy, nothing is simple with us"
He disagreed but countered her smile with his own and started kissing her again; hope a full blossom in his heart. It was coursing through his body, thrumming and excited, tantalizing in its agonizing bliss.
They would most likely have continued, glued to each other, in their own little world were it not for the sudden noise outside the locked door. They both stilled, eyes locked unto each other, a mix of slight panic and semi humor. The footsteps outside became louder and they both held their breaths; fortunately whoever it was walked right past and continued on.
"I almost wish someone stumbled in on us," Andy lamented with a slight laugh.
Sharon rolled her eyes, "You are impossible"
They grinned, waited for a long moment before they unlocked the door and exited. They sneaked back to the elevators, walking close shoulder to shoulder, fingers coincidently touching now and then. He pushed the button for the garage watching Sharon smiling to herself out of the corner of his eye.
"We should go out, you know, do dinner and stuff," Andy ventured as they waited, fidgeting as he tried to keep a little distance between them and not kiss her again.
"Stuff?" her voice had turned sultry and he was swept back to another decade, lying in bed with her and watching baseball. The same tone, same vibration to the words, as they had made love. Sometimes in seemed all of that – all of their good times – had happened in another life, another reality.
"We should do it properly this time."
"We should," she agreed, and he felt happy beyond words. Felt excitement and content blossoming within him, almost on the brink of giddiness. It felt surreal.
The elevator dinged and opened. He guided her in, his hand on the small of her back. He needed to touch some part of her, to anchor himself to her and keep her near.
The door closed, and they immediately moved even closer, eyes locking unto each other and mouths turning upwards in ridiculous wide smiles. This was absurd – immensely, Andy thought with a certain amount of delight.
"I want you to take me out," Sharon declared, lips looking deliciously kissable as they worked around the words.
It was senseless not to kiss those lips though, Andy surmised, and answered her as he leaned forward and sealed his lips to hers again. Incomprehensible not to run his fingers along her jaw and end up at the back of her nape, nestled in her hair. And without question pointless not to bring his hips into contact with her, pressing them against the wall and closer together.
She made sense in his life – everything else was meaningless. The thirteen years without her had been without purpose, without substance. She was like just like his addiction to alcohol in some ways; he craved her but he had gone without her as well and managed to live. But he only really existed when she was in his life.
"I love you," he mumbled into another kiss and in another lifetime he would have been afraid of how she would react, would she flee? Would she ignore it? But in this moment of time, nothing mattered and nothing had a consequence; so the words slipped from his lips effortlessly, genuine and sweet. She whimpered and kissed him harder.
-o-
Hehe; I feel almost giddy writing this. =)