A/N: Last two days of stories, I think. :) Thanks again for the interest, reposting this has been surprisingly fun!
And to the Guest who wondered, yes, Rusty always was an impertinent little twit. :B I'm actually kinda surprised I haven't had to edit the endings (I usually check the first and the last paragraph). Ok, those chs which I would cut totally, yeah, maybe, but in general I've been kinda good the first time around. Except for the Valentine's, that was bad... (It ended with the rose.) And, I've always disliked the very last lines of this story. Let's see if I can come up with something better this time. :)

Back To School
Pt 1/2

Standing alone in the backyard at Nicole's 'Back to School' party — which, in essence, was just a family barbeque with some of the boys' friends and their families invited — Sharon couldn't help but to regret how the weekend had played out. On Friday, she had wanted to have a chat with Andy; not only the part he had suggested where she unloaded her family troubles on him but also the part her kids seemed hell-bent on pushing on her.

The 'dating' thing, specifically.

Emily's innuendos had struck a chord harder than she had liked and, when she tried to hint about her troubles on said issue to him, Andy's reaction had left her even more confused. His blow-up to her bringing up the sometimes invisible line they had in their relationship and the stupid ideas she had about wanting to cross it had made her question the welcomeness of moving forward.

He had said they were doing fine, that to him their relationship had everything it needed. And apparently the opera thing didn't belong there.

Well, maybe she should take the hint. A friend's ex was not prime currency, she had heard.

But why the explosion?

She was missing something. Had to be.

Glancing up the yard to where he stood talking with people she didn't know and very much believed he hadn't seen in his life, Sharon noted how worn he looked. She had seen the look on him twice: before his daughter's wedding and after the brawl he had with his ex at family therapy.

His mood was terrible. Had been since the moment she'd laid her eyes on him. The 'nice dress' comment he had made picking her up had sounded more like a snark than the usual honest remark. And, usually, the opening remark included the word 'you'.

Obviously he was still mad at her. She wouldn't have needed it, but the definite clue was the snapped 'fine' to her question of how his Saturday was.

Sharon was tempted to have it out in the car, but suspected that a brawl on his daughter's driveway wasn't needed. Again. She trusted him to know how to behave, even if the passive-aggressive act was tiresome. (Briefly she laughed at his ability to be passive in connection to aggressive, or her ability in bringing it out in him.)

However, on the way home, they were going to have some big words. She should have trusted what they said about trying to get a man talk about the status of your relationship. That was what had started his lousy mood, as far as she gathered. (Briefly she wondered again if this was his way of turning her down, since to him this was 'just fine'.)

She should plain out and ask it. A yes or no and then they both would know for sure.

Nodding at the idea, Sharon found Nicole had approached her and inadvertently took the gesture as a greeting.

"Dad likes you," Nicole stated out of the blue.

"I like him."

Didn't they already have this conversation? The next line: 'I've never seen him like a woman'.

"My brother thinks it's crazy how much you two love each other. Says he's never seen Dad like that."

"I—" Right. 'I've nev—' Hold on. Sharon had started to answer with her standard reply of 'I'm sorry', which happened to be appropriate, but obviously she needed to pay a little more attention this time around. Her brother thinks? In love? "We —" she started to correct, but was cut off immediately.

"Yeah yeah," Nicole said with a dismissive wave and a roll of her eyes, which, Sharon noted, were very much things her father would grace her with, "you're not in love."

"We are not. We are just friends. Good friends."

"And that's why you forget to speak and he's staring at you right now."

Sharon turned to look back towards the patio and sure enough, there was Andy, his eyes fixed on her. They connected gazes and he tilted his head, raised eyebrows. Sharon discreetly flapped one hand which made him straighten the tilt and nod minutely.

"See, I told you."

Sharon turned her focus back to Nicole.

"We don't forget to speak and he doesn't stare at me. We have a particular history, we understand each other. The need for our communication to be efficient is a matter of life and death." It all sounded grandiose, off-putting and utterly bogus. Maybe she should approach the issue with a translation instead. "He asked me if we need to leave and I told him there's no hurry. We are good enough friends to have good communication."

"Right. And that's why he stares at your legs right now with a look like —" she gestured towards her father, "— that."

Sharon twisted around again to find Andy's gaze directed towards them — her — glazed but hot. Mentally drawing a straight line from his eyes to the end point, she assumed it indeed was at her legs or somewhere in the grass a few feet from her. The odd look she couldn't discern, so she shrugged it off.

"He's just deep in thought."

"He's a leg man."

"Nicole, you know we are not together."

"Doesn't mean he doesn't want that to change."

The suggestive quality in her voice made Sharon chortle.

"I am his boss."

"And that never ends in marriage?" Nicole countered gesturing in the direction of her husband.

"I am the boss he hates," Sharon corrected, "Sometimes, I admit, the feeling is very much mutual."

"Wrong tense." Not knowing which one Nicole meant and assuming it was not going to go down well (for her) to ask for clarifications, Sharon only hummed. "And whatever your feelings are at work," Nicole added, undeterred, "I'm not sure they translate well off work. And as a third thing, love and hate..."

"Let me assure you, we are friends. Whatever else you might think is between us, is not. We were wrong to give you any impression other than what was strictly true. You know we are very sorry for that."

The look she got was questioning. From her own daughter that look was the epitome of 'seriously? You just said that? Do you even hear yourself?'. From Nicole, Sharon hoped, it could mean something completely different.

"Have you noticed how many times you've used the word 'we' in the past five minutes? But you are right, there is absolutely nothing to anything I say."

"Nicole!" she couldn't help the laughing quality in her protestations, "I am tempted to ask your father over to have this conversation with you. Again."

"Please do," Nicole sing-songed and stepped away, starting to move where her husband beckoned, "it might be very enlightening." A few yards off, she twirled around to add with a wink, "For both of us."