Sharon looked in the mirror, checked her appearance once again, and she took a deep breath. She couldn't wait any longer; she needed to get going. It was going to be a long day. She could feel it. Thankfully, Emily was already ready, Jack at least helping with that before he started in on his "busy day." She still didn't understand why he couldn't go to Mass with them for just a short time. She knew that by later tonight, he'd take a break from his work to have a couple drinks, and she sighed, realizing that he just didn't have an interest in Mass. She did; she was deeply committed to her faith, and it should not surprise her that he'd told her that before they were married and had started to let it drop off quickly after they were married. Sharon ran her hand over her stomach again, ready to get going. Mass was the best part of her day, always, but today, she knew she was in for an interesting confrontation in her office. She just hoped that Andy wasn't interested in reminiscing or asking about her condition.
Jack eyed her when she walked into the kitchen, "I thought you were going to Mass? You look like you're dressed for a funeral instead." Sharon sighed and looked down at her outfit, well, as much as she could see, which wasn't a lot these days. Looking down now only gave her a view of the watermelon she was carrying.
"I told you I have to go to work afterward. I'm dressed for both, Mass and work. Why? What's wrong with this?" Sharon gestured to her outfit. She'd put on black maternity slacks, as she really only had a few pairs of maternity slacks, a black camisole top that she'd been delighted to find at the maternity shop because they were out of most colors, and a black blazer. She felt powerful, like this was her power suit. She had conceded to flats, knowing that heels would have been perfect, but not at 30+ weeks pregnant. She ran her hand down her side again, and she nodded at Jack. "I'm dealing with officers involved in a bar fight, Jack. I'm not there to look all sweet and caring." Sharon did believe that, that wearing her outfit commanded some respect, and she also liked the idea of wearing black because she felt like it "hid" her pregnancy as much as possible, NOT that it was possible at all, but it didn't make her look nearly as big wearing all black, at least she told herself that.
"Yeah," he waved from the table where he was eating some eggs. Emily was watching their interaction, sitting there as well, most of her eggs gone. "You're right. You just look like the Grim Reaper," he chuckled and picked up his paper again to read it. Bernie, who was still visiting, had a habit of going on a four mile walk each morning. She left really early, never really adjusting to the time change, and she was still out. Sharon was not expecting to see her, and Bernie was not into Mass. She'd not been religious most of her adult life, unlike Sharon and her parents.
Sharon cleared her throat, "Is Emily all set?" She checked her watch too. Jack put down his paper, and he stood, walking around the table to embrace Sharon.
"I'm sorry I made fun of your outfit. I know you are running out of options. I certainly wouldn't want to be sitting across from your desk," he mumbled quietly in her ear and kissed her neck. She softened and looked to him with a small smile. "By the way," he said, leaning in to speak softly to her again, "I had a REALLY good time last night, and I don't mean that holiday party of yours. I'm glad you changed your mind about letting me undress you last night. I mean, Sharon, it was incredible. I like this energy you have with the pregnancy right now. I can't stop thinking about last night," he chuckled and winked to her, leaning in to kiss her neck again.
She nodded as she pulled back, giving him a smile again, "It was," she nodded, blushing and nodding again as she met his gaze. He was grinning at her, his eyes sparkling, "Yes, Jack, it was good. I'm not sure, though, it will be possible going forward. I'm just not feeling very attractive."
"Oh, you'll change your mind," he said, running his hand up her side. "Remember, as it gets closer to the end of this, activities like last night," he whispered again, glancing to Emily who was just staring at them, "can speed up the process, encourage the baby's arrival."
Sharon just nodded, making a face. She really wasn't feeling sexy or attractive, and yes, while their evening had been enjoyable, she would never tell him that her "energy" came from leaving her IA scene, that she needed Jack even more after running into HIM, Andy, the half of the DNA she was carrying around growing into a tiny baby. No, she could never tell him that, about seeing Andy. Sharon had finished at the scene late, had gotten out of there as quickly as possible, and she had returned home to find Jack snoring in their bed. He'd awakened when she had started getting ready for bed, and she didn't have to encourage him much when she finally got into bed. One intense kiss from her told Jack she meant business, and now, this morning, she found herself still blushing at the memory, while trying to regain her composure before she had to come face to face with HIM, Andy.
"I don't want to be late for Mass," Sharon said, glancing to her watch again.
"Em is ready," Jack told her, picking Emily up from her booster seat. He brushed off her dress, and he kissed her cheek, putting her on the floor. He turned back to Sharon, "If you have a rough day today like I know you did last night and want a repeat of last night," he grinned, "I promise I'll be okay with it, more than okay," he chuckled.
She patted his arm, "Easy, Tiger. I'm exhausted, extremely pregnant, and I just don't see it happening. I feel like that the baby has shifted again," she said, wincing. "I'm having trouble just walking anymore."
"Well, go sit at Mass and get your work done," he said, walking to the door with her. He picked up Emily and gestured to Sharon. "I'll get her in the car. Have a good day."
"Tell Bernie I'll be home mid-afternoon," Sharon told him. "Make sure she gets some rest. She's getting older, too," Sharon sighed.
"Will do," he nodded. "It's like I have my own babysitter," he chuckled.
Mass went well, and Sharon was very glad she'd gone. She was able to speak to a few friends, and Emily always seemed to enjoy the nursery. She would take Emily to daycare at work, as it was open every day for all officers to use. She really was dreading this, but she'd set the early appointments to get it over as well as drag the three officers in early. If she had to be inconvenienced last night, she'd make them walk off their hangovers and report to work. 10:30 was perfect because it did allow her to get to the early Mass and still have time to get to work. After all of it, she had decided, she might treat Emily and herself to a relaxing late lunch before heading home.
Sharon settled Emily and was up to her office just after 10:00. That gave her time before the three morons arrived to plead their cases. It also gave her time to pull their files. From her early report, the other men involved in the fight had decided not to press charges, which was really helpful as far as the LAPD was concerned. That did not exonerate the officers of their poor behavior. She started to read the files, which would help decide what each man needed. One involved, Felix; this was his first incident. She would go easier on him, as was protocol. From all reports, too, he had not started the fight and had only gotten involved at the end. The second, Provenza, well, she hadn't met him, but he had a decent record with the department too. He'd been involved in a couple of stupid incidents, nothing major, but she would send him to Anger Management. From his file, it was deemed appropriate, and again, reports said he did not throw the first punch.
No, the first punch title seemed to be reserved for, yes, Andy, biological father to her unborn child. Sharon studied it, sat back, and she sighed, resting her hand on her stomach.
"Oh, Andy, why? What in the world has happened to you? Why was I such an idiot to think you were charming and this perfect guy? So, stupid, Sharon," she muttered to herself as she caressed her stomach. She shook her head as she read through his file. It was long, longer than the other two combined, and she was a little surprised she had not heard his name in the department. They had their own list of "frequent flyers," and it appeared Andy had made his way into that club. He was a mess, and from the reports, he was definitely having drinking problems too. Just what she needed, but sadly, she could file the information away. She would never want to know the specifics behind her child's father's behaviors and genetics, but knowing he had anger issues and a drinking problem was something to file for the future.
"One stupid, stupid night," she sighed and shook her head. "Come on, Sharon, at least admit the truth. TWO times, two stupid trips to his place. What a dump it was. Can't argue being all too eager. He's the one who dragged me inside. I think I would have been okay to even go at it in the doorway. Why was I so stupid?" Sharon continued to mutter to herself, finally pinching the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath, put the files on her desk, and she stood, smoothing down her suit. It was time.
Sharon opened her door and gave a nod to herself, glad to see all three men seated outside. They looked terrible; Andy looked the worst, but that was to be expected. All three snapped their heads up at her when she opened the door. She didn't make eye contact with any, but she said with a nod, "Felix."
He stood, gave her a nod and a professional smile. She gestured to her doorway and turned, not making eye contact with either of the other men outside. She closed the door and didn't open it again until she'd finished with Felix, his meeting going as planned. Thankfully, he was otherwise a decent cop and wanted to stay as such.
"Flynn," she said again, not looking at him, but looking down toward her toes, not that she could see her toes. She could only see the very, very large, roundness that FLYNN had essentially put there. She cleared her throat as he stepped by her, biting her lip as she smelled his cologne, which was better than the stale beer he'd smelled like the night before, but remembered that smell of cologne. She'd smelled it before when he'd kissed up and down her neck-
Sharon snapped her head up, almost making Provenza jump. She nodded and turned, closing her door, aware that Andy was already seated in the chair waiting for him. She rolled her eyes, noting that Felix had stood waiting to be told to sit. Andy, or Flynn, to be professional, was already sitting, leg crossed, and he had his finger up to his mouth.
"Detective Flynn," she stated crisply as she sat down, trying to sit as easily and as gracefully as possible while being heavily pregnant with a child belonging to the man seated across from her. She did make eye contact then, trying to not be nervous but appear professional and yet caring.
"Hey, Sharon, umm, I need to apologize for everything, for my behavior last night, you know, getting into that fight. I know it was stupid," he grumbled, giving her a small shrug.
"Raydor, please," she said with a nod. "Let's keep this professional, shall we?"
"Yeah, sure, sorry about that too," he waved his hand. "Kinda awkward, though, right? I mean, it's not every day this kind of thing happens."
"No," she pursed her lips and folded her hands on her desk. "It is not. I despise doing these, having to take action with good cops, but here we are," she said with a nod.
"Oh, yeah, about that too," he agreed. "I was talking about how umm, you know," he scratched the back of his head and winced. "I was talking about that I don't normally have to face a woman I've slept with in a position at work," he sat forward, gesturing, " not that I do that ever, I mean, sleep with a woman at work in a position of power. I mean, I didn't know you at the time, and I didn't know your position, and I don't sleep around with women, well," he rambled, "women, yes," he nodded, "not women cops, certainly not women in positions of authority."
"Detective Flynn," she said firmly, eyeing him. "This is a professional meeting, and I've already explained I can excuse myself if any outside personal matters are a problem."
"They aren't," he shook his head. "I'm sorry. I'm nervous. I feel like crap. I still have a hangover and headache. I'm still maybe even drunk because I had A LOT to drink. I'm worried I'll lose my job. I just made detective."
She nodded, feeling the slightest bit sorry for him; she often faced officers pleading for their jobs, and he seemed to be no different. His face looked like he'd been through a battle, and really, he had with another man's fist. She opened his file.
"Yes, I see that you made detective two months ago. Congratulations," she said, giving him the first small smile.
"I can't lose my job!"Andy exclaimed again. ""I barely make enough to make ends meet after my ex gets alimony and child support. What do I have to do?"
Sharon sighed again and looked over to him, "You are not going to lose your job, not yet," she told him. "You are going to have to make some serious changes to your attitude and performance, err, ahh," she said, glancing to her paperwork, "here at work."
"Fine," he waved. "What? I like being a detective, and it's the only thing worth being or doing," he grumbled.
She nodded, "I'm glad you want to fight for your job. You are not being prosecuted. They will not be pressing charges, but," she said sternly and looked to him, "the LAPD has its own standards and expectations. You will be attending anger management classes, an entire course of it. All of the details are outlined in the paperwork I will give you."
He nodded, and shifted, almost expecting that they were done.
"Ah, ah, ah, sit," she said before he could stand, and he looked over to her, slightly surprised. His rudeness was irritating to her, the fact that he just assumed he was dismissed. He sat.
"I wasn't done," she gave him a look.
"Sorry," he grumbled.
"You will also be required to attend alcohol management, much like a substance abuse course but for alcohol. I strongly encourage you to get some help and possibly seek out AA even. If you do not get help and do not successfully completely this program, you will be in jeopardy of being suspended from your job. This is serious. Your blood alcohol level was well over the legal limit last night, and this was the third time for that," she said with a look at him. "You had another incident almost a month ago."
He gestured, "That was just after getting my detective transfer," he frowned. "That was nothing, just a bunch of us out drinking, and I was still a little hung over the next morning."
She ignored his comment and looked to his paperwork, "Another incident was noted well over a year ago as well."
"That!" Andy exclaimed. "That was when I was dealing with my divorce. You know those situations are a mess."
Sharon pursed her lips and looked to him. He was indeed, quite a mess. As sweet as he might have been with her, he was certainly not someone with whom to get involved or have a future. He was certainly not someone she would seek out to father her child, yet she in her own way had. She tried not to stare at his muscular arms, the way his mouth twitched-
No, she needed to focus because he was one of those bad boys her mother had warned her of during Catholic School, and yes, she'd not heeded the warning and was carrying around living proof of her "bad boy" encounter.
"Everything I have explained is outlined in the paperwork. You are to review it, sign it, and it should be back here in my office tomorrow before 9:00 AM. Are there any questions?" Sharon looked to him again, frowning at his unsightly appearance. He really did look rough. He needed a haircut, a good shave, and it looked like that while he'd showered, he needed to scrub away all of his fight encounter.
"This, this," he smacked at the papers, "alcohol thing. Is it rehab?"
"No, not technically, but if you are interested in rehab, we can certainly help with that. That would be another level of support, one in which the LAPD is glad to support and assist. Would you like me to work on that?" She gave him a hopeful nod.
"Are you kidding? No way," he shook his head. "I am most definitely not an alcoholic. I'll do this stupid course because I need to get back to work, even though it's pointless. No way I need more. I'm not a drunk."
"Hmm, well, fine," she said, sitting back to cross her arms. She had almost forgotten there was a huge baby in the way, and when she did, it only accentuated her swollen stomach. She sat forward again, "That is your call for now, but should you have any further incidents, it could jeopardize your future with the LAPD. I hope I have made myself clear."
He nodded and looked to her frowning, "Is that it?"
"It is," she said with a nod. He started to stand, and he looked over at her. "You really like this," he gestured, "being a cop, but not an in-the-field cop? It's like here, you just deal with cops getting in each other's business and narking on each other."
She pursed her lips, "Detective Flynn, every organization has to have structure. Internal departments such as this ensure things run smoothly. I am good at my job, and I follow the law, making sure good, hardworking officers do the same. I weed out the bad ones, and I certainly hope I will not have to weed out you."
"Got it," he said, dropping his head, a little humbled. "Uhh, thanks, I mean, for you know." He shrugged and glanced to her, saying, "This is kinda weird, me sitting here with you when we-"
"We are done here," she said, standing her life to escort him to the door. He nodded and turned to go the door.
He reached the handle and turned around again. She was rounding her desk, "When are you?" He nodded to her. She narrowed her gaze. "Your kid-when are you due?"
"Oh, ahh," she paused, almost surprised he'd brought it up. She grew slightly nervous, but she answered him, "End of the year," she shrugged. "Might be a New Year baby or something."
He nodded with a small smile, turned to leave, and then with his hand on the door, he turned back to her. It almost surprised her; she thought he was opening the door.
"Any chance the kid is mine?" Andy asked bluntly, glancing over her body, a look that almost gave her chills. The way his eyes looked at her, he'd looked at her before when both had been needing an escape. She had to react promptly and without panicking. She pursed her lips and titled her head. She'd not thought of what to say, and she certainly had not discussed it with Jack. She was living a huge lie right now, but she'd also never been one to be a habitual liar.
"What if it was?" Sharon said, surprising herself with the words that came out of her mouth. She titled her head and had a blank stare.
He thought for a moment and then shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, "It would be one messed up kid having to deal with the likes of me," he mumbled. "I've got two I'm messing up even the rare times I see them. Good thing, then, it's not," he said with a nod and then a look at her, one where her eyes met his. They shared that look briefly before he dropped his gaze. "I'll get cleaned up. You'll see I'm no drunk. Congrats on the kid." With that, he opened the door, and left, leaving Sharon there.
She let out a gasp, and she clutched the side of her desk to catch herself. She couldn't believe he'd asked. She needed a moment. She was shaking. He'd asked. He'd actually asked, and she couldn't believe how she'd answered. The look he gave her-there was something about that look, something that deep down, told Sharon he knew, he understood. He'd given her a look that cut deep to her core-deep to her unborn child, and then he'd left. He'd let it go-her, the baby, the idea, all of it. She thought over everything, nodding to herself. She could rest easy. He'd asked. She had not lied, and he'd responded by, well, leaving. This baby was Jack's baby, and as if almost to confirm that, the baby gave her a big kick, one that had her hiss. She sat there on the edge of her desk and patted at her unborn child, one that would know Jack as his or her father.