Author's note: Hey everyone! I am gonna make it quick, I know some of you want more one shots, they will arrive eventually, but I need to rewatch the episodes a few times to really get inspired from the little things, so it might take a while. Also, I might update The One That Got Away two weeks in a row, so this story might take a tiny little break after this chapter.
Anyway, thanks for reading, and as always will have to hear your thoughts!
"Are you sure she is still awake?" Andy asks as Robert unlocks the door and opens it for her, as she tries to juggle the two pizza boxes in her hand.
They made a detour on their way to his house, stopping at her favorite pizza place in the entire city, right before it closed, being the last customers for the day who still managed to squeeze in an order. It wasn't an easy task to convince him, but he gave in after quite a lot of pleading on her end, and a promise to order an entire pizza topped with pineapple, even though she absolutely despises it.
That's how Andy finds herself in his house quite late on Saturday evening, carrying in the intoxicating smelling food. He reaches out to grab the takeaway boxes out of her hand as soon as the door is closed behind the both of them, and when his fingers brush lightly, unintentionally across the skin of her hand on the bottom of the stack, she feels it again, the little zings of electricity at the base of her skull.
"You know, I can carry them myself. They are not that heavy." She notes, just as she did the first evening she spent in the exact same house.
"My house, my rules Andy. I just needed you to hold them for a moment so I will be able to open the door." Robert places the two boxes on the kitchen isle, and opens the top one, grabs a cheesy slice and shoves it into his mouth ungracefully.
"You have all those rules about guests, but still, you didn't offer me a slice before you served yourself." Andy teases, crossing her arms against her chest.
"You can help yourself." He shrugs, talking with his mouth full, and it makes Andy chuckle.
Oh, this man in front of her is so different from the captain she meets at work, day in and day out.
"To answer your question from earlier, yes, she is awake, I am sure of that." He finally swallows, and then continues. "I am also sure she won't come down here, because she is still angry with me, but she is awake, more often than not long after she is supposed to be asleep."
Andy tries anyway, yelling "Liv, pizza!" into the air and waits for a reaction to come, any reaction, really, from the sixteen years old girl.
"Told you so." Robert points out as neither of them hears any answer, shoving the last piece of his slice into his mouth and licks his fingers clean. "I know my daughter."
"Well, I can guess who she inherited her stubbornness from." Andy raises a brow in his direction.
"Claire. Definitely Claire." He answers, which makes the both of them laugh shortly.
They are not flirting.
They can't be flirting, because he is her captain, but it feels so easy, and comfortable, and right. It feels like flirting, but it's not. Andy settles on calling that, and the conversation they had in the bar and on their way home, friendly banter, in the absence of a better definition.
Andy grabs the untouched pizza, holding on to it with both of her hands. "I am going to feed your daughter, even though I suspect she is more than capable of feeding herself. You are the one I worry about."
She makes her way to the bottom of the stairs before she hears him calling out her name. She turns around, and sees concern in his eyes, no trace of the amusement that was there just a moment ago left. "Can you please try to explain to her? I know she will forgive me, eventually, but I just… I need things to go back to the way they used to be. I can't lose her, and I know that you understand."
Andy walks back, closing the distance between the two of them. She stabilizes the box against her hip with one hand, and the other comes up on instinct, brushing some invisible fluff from his shirt, in a way she hopes he finds relaxing, reassuring, and that she isn't overstepping way into his personal space. "I will see what I can do. But as you said yourself, she is a stubborn kid, just like your wife was."
Andy disconnects herself from him, and makes her way up the stairs, before either of them does or says something that will make it impossibly hard to step away.
"Special pizza delivery." Andy knocks on the door of Liv's bedroom.
The door swings open, and on the other side of it stands a grumpy Olivia. Andy can't help but grin at the sight of the sixteen years old, wearing an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweats, looking like she has been standing in the middle of a tornado, even though the firefighter knows it isn't the case. "Well, hello to you too, sunshine."
Liv snatches the box out of Andy's grip, the pout never disappearing from her face. "I don't want to talk about him." The sixteen years old is about to shut the door in her face, hoarding the food Andy very much desires, but Andy's instincts are quick, and she steps in front of the door, in a manner that will prevent Liv from closing and keeping Andy outside of her bedroom.
"Well, I don't want to talk about him either." That's a complete lie, she does want to talk about him, yet she wants to talk about him in a manner that will be completely inappropriate to the ears of a sixteen years old, and his daughter, nonetheless. "I just want to eat my pizza. The pizza that I bought, so you have to share."
"I bet my dad didn't let you pay for it."
"Well, he didn't, but that doesn't make it any less my pizza." Andy claims as she makes her way in the bedroom, only then realizing it is the first time she actually stepped foot in there. They usually find themselves in the living room, snuggling into blankets, sharing a bowl of popcorn, on days they don't find themselves solely in the kitchen and by the dining table.
She has never been in the girl's bedroom, and if she is honest with herself, she didn't know what to expect. The room is clean and quite tidy. It has a desk and a bed, a vanity and a closet, all painted in shades of soft turquoise and white. It has been a long while since Andy was a teenager herself, but she remembers her own bedroom being a little bit more chaotic, with clothes piling up on the floor and text books thrown around, open, as if she has ever studied out of them.
The only decoration in the room are pictures, more pictures, just like they have in the living room. Pictures of Liv as a baby with her mother, and of older Liv with her dad, and pictures that seem to be taken more recently, of Liv squished among a large group of girl, who Andy can only assume were her friends back in Montana, because she confided her once and again about how she feels alone here in Seattle, about how she cannot seem to make any friends, no matter how much she tries.
"I am going to ask you one single, tiny thing about your father, and then I am going to leave you alone, I promise." Andy tries as she makes her way into the bedroom, sitting on the bed, uninvited. Liv finds her spot right across from her, setting the box between the two of them and opens the lid, the aroma of freshly baked dough feels the room in an instant.
"Fine." The girl agrees, ripping one slice out of the circle shaped pizza and taking a huge bite.
"What's the deal with your father and pineapple on pizza? It's off putting, really." The girl's expression finally, finally changes into a tomato sauce covered smile.
"I know." She agrees. "Disgusting."
Andy picks her own slice, and stays quiet, letting the silence do its thing, hoping the girl will fill it sooner rather than later.
Andy is halfway through her slice, nibbling on it in small bites when Olivia finally starts the conversation, letting her feelings out. "I am still mad at him."
"I know." Andy nods, because she does. "I can't even start to count the times my father made decisions for me that made me furious, that made me want to scream at the top of my lunges and pull all my hair out. Did I tell you about the time he physically took the door to my bedroom out of its hinges?"
"He did what?" Liv's eyes open wide at the statement, and Andy can see the girl is struggling not to choke on her food.
"Oh, he did. And I was older than you, I was almost twenty one. He just didn't like the fact Ryan and I spent time with the door of my bedroom close, so he just decided to take it off completely. I swear, we didn't even do anything past kissing." Andy plays with a piece of cheese, looking down at whatever left of the slice in her hand as she mumbles. "Not that time, anyway."
"Was he your first?" Liv asks, quite casually, as if she didn't ask her one of the most intimate questions someone could ever ask her, as if she didn't bring back so many memories just by putting this question out there in the open.
"I am not talking about this with you. No way." Andy shakes her head, refusing to answer, taking another big bite, so she will have something to occupy her mind other than the answer to that question.
"Come on, I am sixteen years old, not six." The girl insists. "Remember what you have been up to when you were sixteen?"
"Oh, I remember. Sometimes I think I even remember too well." Andy answers.
"Then share. And then we can talk about my dad all you want." Olivia looks suddenly curious. She is done with the last bit of her slice, and now she sits a little bit straighter, waiting for the story to be told.
"Fine." Andy huffs. "I can't believe I am talking about it with you. No, Ryan wasn't my first boyfriend, and that's all I am going to say." Andy claims, even though she knows this isn't the particular information the girl is searching for. "There was another boy, who I am not going to talk about." Andy answers a question Liv didn't ask, but it is well present in the way she looks at her. "I was around your age, he was a little older. Our paths separated after high school, and I have never seen him again. End of story."
"And here I was expecting a little bit more of the juicy details."
"Not gonna happen." Andy refuses. "Anyway, back to the subject at hand, which is definitely not my first boyfriend." Liv sighs her despair, and Andy continues, pretending she didn't hear it. "My point is, that even though I did not agree with the way he chose to handle things, he is still my dad. I have Ryan, and I have the family that my dad built for me in the station, but he is the only one I share my blood with. And he loves me, I know that, as much as I know that your father loves you."
"It still doesn't mean he gets to control my life." Liv mutters.
"Oh, believe me, I agree. But maybe, just maybe, try to talk to him? Hear him out?" Andy suggests. Now that she is done with her food, she brings her hand closer to Liv's, covering her hand with hers.
"Since when are you such a big advocate for my dad? You were the one to suggest we keep training."
"The offer still stands." Andy promises. "I do understand where he comes from, but I said try to hear him out, I didn't mean give up on all your dreams because he thinks you shouldn't chase them."
"Didn't plan to." Liv smiles.
Andy gives the girl a minute to think about it, and just adds. "I am here with you, for you, whatever you decide. If you want to keep training, we will find a way. But please, please don't push him away because he made one decision you don't agree with."
"I won't." Liv finally promises, and something inside of Andy relaxes, now that she knows the father and the daughter will be alright, that they will mend things. "I just need a little bit more time."
"Well, I think that it's past your bedtime anyway." Andy notes, as she starts to pack the box to get it downstairs to its proper place in the kitchen. If she is honest with herself, she isn't sure how Robert let her bring the food up in the first place, as he is known for being overly tidy.
"Yes, mom." Liv jokes.
It does something to Andy, twists something dark inside of her as she breathes out. "Don't call me that." It is supposed to be playful, supposed to be let out with a smile, but she can't bring herself to crack one. She is not a mom material, definitely can't be a mother figure to a sixteen years old. Yes, she is close with Olivia, but Andy has always considered her a friend, nothing more.
"I freaked you out." Liv notices, being as observant as she is.
"No you didn't." Andy lies.
"Relax, okay?" Liv tries to reassure her. "I had a mom. Yes, she died a long time ago, and I don't really have any memories of her, but she is still my mom, and I have no intention to replace her. So I am sorry about the joke, it won't happen again."
"Goodnight, Olivia." Andy mumbles as she makes her way out of the bedroom. The atmosphere is suddenly weird, suddenly heavy, and she feels like she has to flee in order to alleviate the uncomfortable feeling she has, and the one she is sure the girl can sense.
"Goodnight Andy. I will see you at the station soon." The girl promises just as Andy shuts the door behind her.
Andy shakes her head as she makes her way downstairs, trying to rid herself of the uncomfortable feeling.
"Are you okay?" Robert inquirers from his spot on the couch. He has a bottle of wine open and one glass already full on the coffee table before her feet even hit the ground of the living room. She is taken aback a bit by the way he can read her, by the way he knows something is not right just by the expression on her face.
"Are you trying to get me drunk, Robert Sullivan?" Andy asks, doesn't answer his question, and instead tries to change the subject into something that will make the warm, easy banter from earlier continue.
"Well, I can't drink, since I am the one who is supposed to take you home by the end of the day, but that doesn't mean you can't enjoy a glass of Merlo."
"You have an entire bottle open, and I already had a few drinks at Joe's." Andy points out. She finds her way into the same sofa he sits on, choosing a spot that might be considered a bit too close to sit next to someone who is just your friend. He doesn't move though, doesn't flinch, so Andy places the box carefully on top of both of their legs, between them.
"You have an entire pizza all to yourself." Andy scolds as his fingers reach into the box to grab another slice.
"Well, it is so far away. This one is right here, close and in my reach." She has a feeling he is not talking just about the pizza solely at the moment. They are sitting each with one leg on the sofa, and she can feel his knee as it grazes across hers.
Andy shifts her balance and reaches her hand out, grabbing the glass he poured for her by the leg and turns it around in her hand, before taking a large gulp of it, the warm, dark liquid feeling her senses and tingles its way down her throat. "Thank you."
"I should be the one thanking you, really." Robert looks down at the sofa, avoiding any eye contact, taking a sudden interest in his food. "She is great, but she can be a lot of work sometimes."
"As far as teenagers go, I think you won the lottery." Andy lets him know. She feels her body relaxing a bit as the effect of the wine starts to kick in, feels the light buzzing sensation as her head spins lightly. She is not drunk, and still aware of her actions, but it feels nice, so she lets herself not worry, for just one night. "I am sorry nothing came out from going to the bar. Apparently, I suck at wingwomaning."
"The problem is not you, trust me." Robert tries to reassure her. "I need to connect with someone before anything happens between us, so a bar is not the best place to meet a woman." He looks up at that moment, right in her eye, and she feels his stare all the way down to her organs.
"Tell me about her." Andy requests. She clears the box and the uneaten pizza it has in it, along with the little mountain of napkins they created as they tried to clean themselves of sauce and grease. She gives him time to think as she places the leftovers in the fridge and the trash on the counter, making a mental note to take it out with her before they leave. She puts her now empty glass away too, along with the bottle.
If they stay in her reach, she is afraid she will down the entire thing, and won't even notice. She knows and trusts him, knows he will bring her home safely and help her into bed if it comes down to it.
It's not that she doesn't trust him. She doesn't trust herself, she doesn't know what will happen if she will drink enough to let her inhibitions go.
"Do you really want to hear about her?" Robert furrows his brow. "I am sure we can talk about something that won't darken the mood as much as tales about my dead wife will."
"Well, in order to help you, I need to find out what's holding you back." She sits back in her place on the sofa, yet this time she is even closer to him, lets herself immerse in the feeling of her entire skin tingling by sensing his body so close to hers. She takes a deep breath before she adds. "I really want you to be happy, Robert. You and Olivia."
"I used to believe for years that my only chance at happiness was taken away from me the day I found my wife lifeless on that road." He states. His hands move closer, and now they cover hers. His hands are soft and warm and so large compared to hers, she feels tiny at the moment.
"Wait, you were there when she died?" Andy's eyes tear widely as she waits for an answer. It never comes, though, and she can feel his hand shaking above hers. She holds onto him before he has a chance to release himself from her grip, applying a little bit of pressure, trying to do something, anything to provide him with some comfort.
"I am sorry." She apologies. "It probably brings up a lot of memories you wish stayed buried."
"That's okay." He reassures. She is the one who is about to pull away this time, and he is the one to hold on, to make her linger.
The entire room hums with this thing they both feel when they are close to each other, but won't name. He only lit up a few of the lights in the house as they walked in, so the living room is mostly dimmed and cozy. Andy feels warm and content. She feels like the only woman in the world at the exact moment.
"Your father was there, too." Robert lets her now.
"My dad?" She questions.
"It was Claire's birthday." He sighs. He looks around for a moment, and she is about to tell him that he doesn't have to share, doesn't have to go and pick at an old scar on her account. Before she has a chance to do so, he continues. "It was her birthday, and Luke and I arrived at the car accident call, laughing and talking about our plans for the day. Your father was there, scolding us for taking so long to respond, even though he wasn't our captain."
"Why am I not surprised?" Andy questions, trying to lighten the mood.
"I recognized her car, and I ran toward her. She was dead on site, and if it wasn't for who she was, we wouldn't have bothered. But we tried and we tried until we arrived at Grey Sloan. The only thought in my mind during the entire time was that I cannot let my daughter grow without her mother, running over and over again like a movie stuck in that same horrible scene. The only thing running through my mind was that she couldn't leave me, because I won't know how to raise Olivia without her."
"I am sorry." Andy apologies again.
"It's not your fault."
"I am sorry for bringing it up." She corrects.
"You didn't. I did. You wanted to know something about her, I chose to tell you about the day she died. I could have told you about how she found the ring I bought her in my underwear drawer way before I had a chance to ask. She didn't even pretend to be surprised, just let me know I am terrible at keeping secrets."
Andy smiles now as he keeps telling stories about his late wife, interlacing them with anecdotes from Liv's first year of life. She smiles, but it twists something inside of her, hearing about a time when he was so happy, seeing how his eyes glisten as he talks about her.
You only get one love story like this, she believes. Big and passionate and unique. You only get one love story like that, and if this love is taken away from you way too soon, way before you have a chance to say goodbye properly… Well, what are the chances he is going to be lucky enough to find not one love story like that on his time on earth, but two.
"I am going to stop boring you with my stories." Robert states, bringing Andy back to reality.
"You are not boring me." She insists.
"You are dozing." He notes. She expects to see sadness on his face as he recalls the woman who was taken from him fifteen years ago, but his smile looks genuine and true, and it brightens the entire room in a way no lightbulb ever could.
"I am thinking." She corrects.
"Care to share?"
"You said earlier that you used to believe that she was your only chance at happiness. Couldn't help but notice it was in past tense, that's all." Andy shrugs, trying to brush it off. He couldn't be talking about her. There is no way she is the one to give him the hope he has been searching for in fifteen long years, making his way in complete darkness.
"It didn't occur to me I could be happy again without her until I moved back to Seattle. Apparently, I needed to go back to the place that took her away from me to actually let her go. To let the past go."
"And did you? Let go of the past?"
"I am getting there." He promises.
They sit in silence for a long while, staring at each other, waiting for one of them to make a move.
"You have a little bit of tomato sauce right…" Andy reaches her thumb. "There." It bothered her when he talked, but she couldn't interrupt him, was too afraid that he would close himself off if she just gave him the chance.
It feels like someone knocked the air out of her lungs when the pad of her thumb touches the outer corner of his mouth. Her finger continues its journey, traveling slowly, across his lower lip, her motion soft, so soft they can barely feel it, but it's there as they look deep into each other's eyes.
She can't breathe.
Her thumb travels to his cheek, brushes lightly there.
She isn't sure who makes the first move, isn't sure who was the one to close the gap between them and initiate their closeness, but suddenly his lips are on hers.
It is the softest kiss she has ever shared with a man before, something sweet and lingering. At first it is just the motion of lips against lips, but when his tongue trails out and licks, begging for entrance, she opens her mouth just slightly.
Their tongues are dancing with each other, and her other hand, the one that is not on his face, comes up to grab the fabric of his sweater. He tastes sweet, his lips soft and only scratching the delicate skin on her face slightly with his stubble.
She doesn't know who was the one to initiate the kiss, but he is the one to break it, pressing his forehead against hers and breathing heavily into the space between them.
It's a good thing to know she isn't the only one to be extremely affected by this kiss, then.
But then, then she hears the one thing she didn't plan on hearing. "We can't." He whispers.
He is right, her mind knows he is right. Her body, on the other hand tells her that something that felt so right, something that felt so good, cannot be wrong.
"Don't you want to?" She asks softly, her voice barely audible, even though the room is completely quiet.
"I do." He admits. "But we can't." He shakes his head.
Only then does Andy understand that her hand is still gripping his shirt, holding him close to her. She is reluctant to let him go, doesn't want to lose the heat and the comfortable sensation of having him near. But she has to respect his wishes, and he is right after all. This can't happen. Not now, not ever again. Not as long he is superior to her, and the critical, life and death calls he makes on scene might be affected by the way they feel about each other.
"I think it's best if we could stay friends? I would hate to lose you over some stupid slip."
A slip. That's how he sees kissing her. Good to know.
"Friends." Andy nods, trying to hide how hurt she feels, even when she knows it is stupid and petty. They haven't done anything, so she has no reason to be angry at him. If anything, she should be thankful, because he had stopped it before it had any chance to escalate into something the both of them are going to be scolded for. "And as a friend, can you please take me back home? It's getting late. I am going to turn into a pumpkin soon." She chuckles, even though the last thing she feels like at the moment is cracking jokes.
How could she have read the situation so wrong?
The journey to her house is silent, as Andy cracks up the volume of the music in his car, hoping that the sounds of the song will prevent any thoughts from forming in her mind, from scolding herself for being stupid enough that she thought she could kiss her boss. That she thought that he felt that too, that it wasn't all just in her imagination.
"Goodnight." She murmurs hurriedly as she is about to open the door and leave the car, as soon as he comes into a stop in front of her building.
"Hey." He lets out, gripping her arms. He places a soft kiss on her cheek, and whispers. "I really hope things can go back to the way they used to be."
"Sure." Andy huffs, even though she hates him at the moment. Even though she wants to lock her lips with his again, wants nothing but to feel his warm mouth on hers.
She doesn't hear the goodnight he says behind her, is too far gone at the moment.
When she opens the door to her apartment and rushes to her bedroom, she can still feel his kiss on her lips, and on her cheek.