NINE

Apparently Sergeant Martinez had a day off and had chosen to spend it at the gym. A gym that was not the LAPD gym that every officer could use for free, naturally. Andy wasn't surprised, aware that he should have expected some time and money to have gone into those chiseled muscles. While his dislike of the man had grown with the recent revelations, he could not help but feel a little smug about the fact that his near perfect physique and youthfulness had not held up to whatever Sharon saw in Andy. He was glad that Provenza was not around to watch the thought form in his head because he had the eery ability to recognize and mercilessly reveal such thoughts without Andy having to utter a single word.

Fortunately his partner, along with Sanchez, was on his way across town to pick up Martinez from his fancy gym, so Andy had decided to use the opportunity to take a break and, more importantly, get Sharon to take one, too. They were sitting at a small table at a cafe around the corner that was somehow less frequented by LAPD personell, plates of sandwiches in front of them. Sharon was eating, and not haltingly so, and Andy was more relieved than he had expected. Washing another bite down with a sip of her ginger ale, Sharon's eyes met his across the table. She put the bottle down and gave him a tentative smile.

"What is it?" She sounded nothing like she had back in the break room, all the combativeness vanished. What was he to say to that? The AC at the café was no match for the LA heat, so they had taken off their jackets. While Andy was in his shirtsleeves, his tie askew, Sharon was wearing a light cotton top that was clearly not intended to be on full display instead of being hidden under her suit jacket. The fabric was light and clung to her in all the right places. It also left her shoulders almost bare and revealed a few inches of creamy white skin below her collarbones. Andy had seen her naked more often than he could count, but somehow her unusual state of undress left him unable to focus on anything else.

"My eyes are up here," she said and he lifted his gaze to discover that an amused smirk had appeared on her lips.

"Sorry, Captain," he said cockily. "Just enjoying the view, you know. Mutual interest and all."

She rolled her eyes almost playfully. "I should have known that one would come back to haunt me."

For a moment they just smiled at each other over the table, then Sharon slid her hand under his. The gesture was so intimate, especially in public, that it took his breath away. He ran his thumb over the soft skin on the back of her hand and marveled at its warmth. She didn't say anything to elaborate, but he found that he didn't need her to. The touch was enough to let him know that there was something there beyond the purely physical. He understood that this was all she could give him for the moment and he was prepared to accept it. Andy leaned in and caressed the side of her face with his free hand, then kissed her softly on the lips. Sharon responded almost eagerly if modestly.

The look in her eyes when they came apart was one of warning, as if she knew that he was about to spill the beans to her and flat out tell her that he loved her.

His phone vibrated on the table and snapped them out of their moment. Andy was equal parts grateful and disappointed when Sharon drew back, her hand now coming to rest on her chest. The alert had been for a text message with an attached picture from the Chief. He furrowed his brow when he saw it as his boss was not usually much of a texter. Having opened it, his mouth went dry and his airways seemed to tighten. Sharon had noticed his shock and tensed.

"What is it?"

He would have preferred to soften the blow for her, but he couldn't for the life of him think of a way to possibly do so. Instead, he let her take the phone from him. The blood drained from her face when she saw the message and she held on to the table. When she lifted her gaze to his, she looked more panicked than he had ever seen her before. Over the next minute or so, however, he got a first hand experience of how Sharon Raydor had gotten to where she was. Very slowly, the wild look in her eyes vanished to be replaced by a stoic one. It was as if her eyes were clouding over while, at the same time, she lowered her shoulders in a visible effort to relax her muscles. Sharon took a deep breath, then another. She raised her chin and set the phone down, consciously forcing the tremble in her hands to still.

"Let's get back to the precinct," she said, her voice so carefully modulated that she could have been announcing stock prices.

"Are you okay?" he asked her, rising and grabbing his phone and jacket in an attempt to keep up with her. She turned around to face him from where she had stepped aside to button her own jacket. There was a glimmer, a faint residue of the panic he had seen in her eyes, but it blinked out before she spoke.

"I'm fine."

On their way back, his mind was on the screenshot of the e-mail the Chief had sent. There was no text, but the attachment spoke for itself: It was one of the pictures taken on the balcony. One he was sure he hadn't seen before. While the ones that he had gone through in Chief Johnson's office all showed Sharon from the back, her hair the only recognizable feature, this one had her turning her head slightly, so she was recognizable, her hair momentarily drawn over her left shoulder so her back was all bare. She looked beautiful, he thought, but the photo was a terrible violation of her privacy nonetheless. Of their privacy, he reminded himself, since he was also there, his eyes closed but his face also perfectly recognizable. It wouldn't have made a difference if the picture had been sent to Chief Johnson only as she had seen the others as well. The problem was that the attachment had been sent to each and every e-mail address on the LAPD server.

Another private detail had been leaked and made widely public, inevitably making him remember their conversation in the break room. Andy slid his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket, his fingertips brushing the edge of the ultrasound image he had stored there. It had seemed smart to keep it close at first, but now he was terrified of losing it and tipping off the wrong person. He watched Sharon walk into the building, gaze on the floor. The desk sergeant, stuck behind a computer on which Andy was sure his e-mail program was open, looked up as she marched past and his eyes met Andy's. He grinned and winked and Andy's stomach turned. This was nothing if not a preview of what was to come.

This time, Sharon had taken a seat in Andy's desk chair without having to be offered or asked. She had her hands on the desk in front of her, sitting very upright and it was clear, at least to Andy, that this was everything she could do to maintain her composure and not start screaming. Even the Chief seemed to feel a little sympathetic, because she had offered Sharon a break twice now even though she had always declined with a small shake of her head. The others, too, were yet to make a smart ass comment on what had happened and Andy was grateful for that. They loved to hate Sharon, but on some level, she was still one of them and what had happened was not tolerable. The worst was, however, that she hadn't looked at him a single time since they had come back to the building. It seemed as if she was trying to put a palpable distance between them, to show everyone else that there was nothing between them. That, of course, was ridiculous even though he understood the sentiment.

Still waiting for Provenza and Martinez who were stuck in midday traffic, the team had begun to try and trace the e-mail. Chances were slim, but they had to look at this from all angles. If it was really Martinez who was doing this, Andy thought, the timing was more than cruel. Apparently he had sent the e-mail just a few minutes before having been picked up by Provenza then. Had that been incidental, Andy wondered, or had someone tipped him off? If so, who?

A small groan brought him out of his musings and he found Sharon grimacing and holding on to the edge of the desk. His whole body seemed to grow cold when he saw her distress. Something was wrong. Doing his best to block the others' view of her with his body, he leaned down to level with her, his voice low enough not to be overheard.

"What's wrong? Is it the baby?"

She was slowly straightening up, breathing through her nose. Her hand was on her middle, but too high, just below her ribcage. It dawned on Andy when she stumbled to her feet and held on to his shoulder.

"We'll be back in a second," he said, helping her out of the room and into the hallway, where she all but broke into a run towards the ladies' room. Even through the closed door, he could hear her retching inside.

She took a while to come out but when she did, she looked like living hell. It seemed as if the nausea had taken her composure away, because she was trembling all over. The gossip would be vicious, Andy knew, and she was probably going through all the different ways in her head in which that would make her life hell. Her hand was still on her middle while the other steadied her against the doorframe as if she didn't trust her legs to support her yet. People were passing by in regular intervals and he understood from the way she averted her eyes each time that she wasn't ready to face them yet.

She pressed her lips together and looked up at him with a haunted look in her eyes. Andy could tell that she was trying very hard not to burst into tears. Captain Raydor was always cool, unattainable, the object of countless rumors because nobody knew anything about her for certain. She didn't let on about her family or her interests, her past or her present. All people knew were tidbits, delivered always with a humorous note, never a superficial detail. And now this. Her entire work persona had been deconstructed by those photos. She could not be touched when people didn't know what could touch her. It was that simple. Now they all knew what she was up to away from the job. They all knew she had let herself be wooed by Lieutenant Flynn, a notorious womanizer who never passed up an opportunity to chat up a lady with great legs. Had she hopelessly fallen for him? Was she to be pitied because of it? Or were the rumors true and she was actually sleeping around the LAPD and thus Flynn was only one of her many conquests? Sex on a balcony - kinky. She had a nice back, creamy skin, no one would have expected that. And that look on her face in the picture. Serene, her guard down for once. Andy could almost hear the whispers about her. With sudden clarity, he knew that she would never ever live that one down. No matter what happened with her stalker or with them, she would always be the fallen ice queen, no matter that she was entitled to a life outside work, that she was allowed to have sex with whomever she pleased. He knew that those very same thoughts were going through her head and that she was desperately thinking of a way out.

And, of course, there was an easy way out.

Boston.

Her breathing was a little irregular and he was beginning to think that this was the first sign of a panic attack coming up. He had seen people lose their shit over less. Way less.

"Hey," he said softly. "Let's go somewhere private. Let's go to your office."

She let him lead her to the elevator and through the long deserted hallway toward the FID offices. There was hardly anyone here during lunch hour because, of course, the rat squad would get a reliable lunch hour since they didn't have any actual criminals to chase. They passed only Sergeant Elliott in the hallway, his gaze worried. In her office, Sharon sat down in the green chair that was tucked into one corner and hid her face in her hands. She was still breathing irregularly, but he could tell that the familiar surroundings helped, that being away from people helped.

He knew that she had to do this on her own time, that he was not to press her. He had worked with victims of abuse before and this was not that different. He waited as she calmed herself down and when she finally looked up at him, her gaze had cleared a little.

"I know you're not supposed to leave me on my own," she said softly. "but could you give me a few minutes please?"

He wouldn't have been able to resist her pleading look even if she had been in a place more dangerous than her own office.

"I'll wait outside, okay?" With that he walked towards the door, his hand on the handle and turned back to her. She was looking at a point in the distance, her eyes a little vacant, focus inward. He had meant to tell her that everything would be okay but decided against it. How was she to believe him if he didn't even believe himself?

Out in the hallway, he leaned against the wall for support, closing his eyes. Was there any way to make an even bigger mess out of this? Someone cleared their throat next to him and Andy opened his eyes wearily. FID was not his favorite department of course, but at least the chance of someone coming up to him to congratulate him on his conquest were slimmer here. Elliott was waiting in front of Andy and from the look on his face, he could tell that he, too, had seen the image.

"Is she okay?" Elliott asked and Andy shrugged. What was he to say to that? Tell the truth and invade Sharon's privacy even further? Or lie and say she was alright when it was so obvious that there was no way that she could be? He looked at the earnest concern in Elliott's eyes and felt little sympathy for the man. Sharon was his hero. He looked up to her.

"Something like that, coming out like this." Elliott shook his head. "What a nightmare."

Andy couldn't help but agree to that. "Yeah," he said gruffly.

He could tell that there was something else on Elliott's mind and he knew instinctively that he did not want to answer whatever question it was. At the same time, he couldn't for the life of him muster the energy to deflect or walk away.

"I've been thinking about why Sergeant Martinez would be so-" Elliott seemed to be grasping for the right way to say it for a moment. "Insistent, you know. I mean, between us, it was obvious that he had a thing for her. And she can be so… alluring."

Andy drew his eyebrows together, unsure whether he would be able to stomach another lovesick puppy trailing in Sharon's wake.

"I don't mean any disrespect by that, Sir," Elliott offered quickly. "I just feel so bad at having told her about his thing for her. He is a little hot-blooded, but he is not a bad guy. And they did go out for dinner a few times."

Andy perked up at that. They had gone out to dinner? Normally, he would have wondered whether he simply didn't remember Sharon's earlier statement correctly, but he couldn't fool himself this time. He had memorized word for word what she had said. His jealousy had seen to that.

"He is a bit of a romantic, I think. Took her to some nice place downtown and I guess he fancied himself her date." Elliott looked just as uncomfortable as he had in the morning, but Andy thought he seemed a little relieved laying it all bare now. He had probably just been mindful of not sharing too much of what he deemed Sharon's private affairs in front of the Major Crimes squad before. Andy was not very good at being confused. In fact, for him, confusion inevitably turned into rage. And he was even worse with that. He felt his blood beginning to boil at the idea of Sharon having had dinner with Martinez in fancy places, being 'alluring' enough for him to think that he had a chance with her. Or maybe he had even had one. Had Sharon not been very tightlipped about the whole thing? Had she deliberately left out the details, even skipped few truths? His instinct screamed no, he knew her, but a mean little voice in his head insisted that, just like the rest of the LAPD, he had no idea who she really was. The little voice was joined by another and another, all insisting that something was amiss, that Sharon was not who she pretended to be and finally the crescendo died down and only one voice remained. Was that child even his?

The urge to run across the street and down the first shot of alcohol he could get his hands on was so strong that he had to physically restrain himself.

Sergeant Elliott's voice seemed far away when he asked whether Flynn was okay.

"Can you please watch that door for a second?" Flynn managed before he hurried down the hallway without waiting for an answer, opening the door to the small balcony where, back in the day, the smokers used to gather. He gulped in the warm air that was far from refreshing, but at least hadn't been filtered a million times through the air conditioning system and did not carry the scent of stale coffee. He closed both of his hands around the railing and looked down into midtown traffic. Horns were blowing and motors humming far below him. He took another deep breath as his anger subsided. No longer clouded by the irrational fear his jealousy caused, his brain slowly went back into rational mode. There had to be some kind of misunderstanding. Maybe Martinez had even deliberately fed Elliott lies about the true nature of his relationship with Sharon. He began to calm down, his fists around the metal gradually relaxing until his fingers all but rested on the railing. He closed his eyes and took another deep breath. This was nothing more than a question to ask Martinez during the forthcoming interview. Sharon was many things, but she was not a liar or a cheat.

He took his phone out of his pocket to find two missed calls and an angry text from Provenza. With a sigh, he pocketed it again and walked back into the building. The FID hallway was just as empty as before. Where was Elliott, he wondered. In Sharon's office maybe? He knocked on the door but didn't receive a reply. His brows furrowed, he opened the door and found her office deserted, the green chair empty. He took a confused step inside, wondering whether she had maybe gotten sick again and Elliott had followed her to the bathroom to make sure she was not-

A sudden discovery derailed his thought immediately and dread began to well up inside of him like bile. On the floor next to the chair was a single black shoe, another stiletto heel cracked.