Accidents
Pt 2/2

"Get your hands off me," Sharon hissed the moment Nicole had disappeared into the crowd after their goodbyes.

Andy was still happily grinning about the impromptu meeting with his daughter, the little skit he got to play with Sharon, the Saturday on the whole and had a hard time adjusting to the total Winter suddenly enveloping him.

"Sharon?" he asked in the hope he had imagined things.

Sharon's reply was to step aside and lift his wrist pinched between thumb and forefinger like it was a rotten cucumber. He almost expected her to brush clean the part of her back on which the offending item had rested.

"Oh come on. I've done worse."

"Yes! Take that damn kiss, for example. What possessed you!"

Andy sighed, deeply.

"Sharon, it was a friendly peck on the cheek. Hardly that."

She scoffed.

"Okay, answer me this," he began to present his excuses, "How should I greet you? You, as my girlfriend. Think of it objectively. If at work we came across two people claiming to be together, who never said an endearment, never touched each other, what would you think? Especially if they have, supposedly, just got together, enjoying their honeymoon phase? That flies while in front of children or in a little more formal surroundings. But while my daughter has no one else to concentrate on, in a relaxed situation? A handshake? I'm not your husband."

"Excuse me."

Subdued — or reining in cold hard fury — Sharon stalked off without an answer, soon starting to make distance between them. Andy hurried to catch her before he had to actually chase her in the corridors of a mall.

"Okay! Sorry," he said as soon as he was only half a step behind her, laying the pads of his fingers on the small of her back, "that was a low blow."

She snapped around, emphasized her words with one pointed finger.

"Don't you, ever, talk about him. I've had enough of unreliable men."

Andy stopped her from turning around by gently grabbing her arm.

"Hey. I know. I am sorry, I apologize for my behavior and let me remind you I am an idiot."

Checking the surroundings, he steered her to an empty corner beside a Target. When he had gotten her safely across the corridor, he concentrated back on her. She looked more intrigued than offended. Which was a good thing. Possibly.

"Why would you lie about something as small as that?" Yeah, that sounded like unadulterated disbelief. "I thought we agreed on honesty between us."

"Yeah, sorry. It was just a careless word and I didn't think it would come up again."

"And because you thought it a casual remark, you went to the trouble of actually fabricating a plan for this imaginary outing."

"Essentially, yeah. Sorry."

"A plan you thought not to disclose to me because the whole idea was an accident you thought no one would be interested in after the fact."

A loud exhale communicated his frustration at the turn of the conversation. There was no point to state the facts of the scenario to him since he had created all of them, single-handedly.

"What do you want from me, Sharon? Yes, I didn't think. Again. Sorry, but nothing I can do about it now."

"I want a little consideration from you. I want you to not lie."

"What about you showing some consideration to me!"

"I, you? I've done you favor after favor for the past six months! I've never asked a thing in return except for you to be honest with me."

"Well, it has been a peach hearing about your damn husband non-stop for the past three of those!"

"What do you care about my husband and I!"

Her counter to his attack made him pause. From the hesitation seeping through the cracks of her defiance, Andy knew for sure she hadn't meant to say it.

Whatever, why should he care? She said it, he could follow up on that.

"You're honestly asking that?"

"Yes! No," she retracted just as hastily and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Look, this situation is less than ideal. Much less. Were this three years ago..." Indulging in conditionals was of no use. Straightening up, she found her usual resolve. "But this isn't. We are either friends or nothing at all. That is how this needs to go. For now," she added after a pause, softer.

"Sharon," Andy said levelly, hoping to convince her, "your husband won't care were this three years ago, now or three months from now."

"Oh, he will. Believe me he will."

"He is not coming back."

Hearing pity tinting his voice made her let out a cold laugh.

"Do you think I expect him to come back?"

The sadness in his eyes told that indeed he did. It cut the sarcasm out of her.

"Okay," she admitted, "I do, but not like that." Watching with glazed eyes the people passing them, she finally brought herself to admit, "And we both know Jack's not the only issue here."

That was sounding awfully lot like an opening to the conversation he had been hinting of wanting for weeks, months even. She didn't want to get into long-winded conversations about details and nuances and possibilities; it would do neither of them any good, nor would it change the result. The door needed to be closed, firmly and for all.

Steeled, she went for it.

"We keep on having what we have and if you want a... non-faked something more, you find someone else. Until then, you have my friendship and the sham that we are. That's the only choice."

He was silent for a while, disbelieving that this was the conversation he was rewarded with.

"And what do I tell my family when I change women?"

"Do you have to tell them anything anymore?" Sharon countered easily, almost flippantly. It infuriated him. "They know we are friends and think that I told you no to anything more. Not everything needs to be a problem."

"That's rich coming from you."

She stared at him, impassively, for good ten long beats.

"We both know I didn't deserve that and you only said it to hide your helplessness."

"Stop understanding and analyzing me!" He stepped closer to her, trying to intimidate her off the scent by getting in her face.

"I'm sorry." Stepping half a step aside to diffuse the situation, she continued calmly, "But I have news for you: I do understand you," and adding a soft stroking of his upper arm, finished just as softly, "Always have."

His sigh was shaky as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Can't you be just like normal women!" he spat out and made a backwards turn.

She was glad of his turned back for the second she couldn't control her upcurving lips.

"And how is that?" she tried asking without too much amusement coloring her voice.

Andy paused just long enough for Sharon to realize she had failed.

"Ditzy. Unpredictably moody. Self-focused. 'Sit still and look pretty', not this opinionated and independent crap."

She laughed, freely and honestly.

"I love your idea of women. Though, in contrast, I am sorry to inform you, you are a very typical male. No matter what kind of a woman you have, you're still disappointed."

Thinking he should say that not having the woman, no matter of the exact kind she would turn out to be, was the source of his disappointment right now, Andy failed to see the humor.

"No. Don't say it. I value our friendship."

At least she was respectful enough not to tell him 'just get over it'; a fact they both were glad of.

"What, now you're telepathic as well?" he said flatly, showing clearly his indecision between humor and distaste.

"No, I'm just guessing we think alike." Sharon's attempt at humor failed on the side of gloom. "Don't ruin us."

Andy nodded at her precatory tone. She went to studying her fingers and the handles of her shopping bags between them.

Fat load of good had waiting done for him and his chances to influence the conversation or its outcome. However, she had said 'we keep on having what we have'. He could deal with that. Especially since he thought to sense the aura of dejection in her.

That or she was only uncomfortable as hell.

"Yeah," he said for no particular reason but for comfort stroked her arm.

Quietly, she said, "But you're wrong," and flicked her hair back behind her shoulders, "There is something you can do about this."

"Tell me. I'll do anything."

"Take me there."

"Take you?" It took a moment for him to connect back to the original topic. "You want to go see the Getty Villa?"

"Yes. I've never been and I don't want to get embarrassed if someone asks. They will not understand my lack of worldliness."

He responded to her small effort at a joke and a smile. Even if it wasn't totally unexciting, that offer — no, request — made only forty minutes ago, would have sounded a lot better. Still, there were things to say for lukewarm if you tried hard enough. And Andy vowed he would.

"Yeah," he replied again, hollow.

Her eyes connected with his straight-on and he watched the last of... something fleeting flick out of them.