The *freak out* promo dared my muse and when you mix with it a wonderful voice and lyrics of Norah Jones's music, this story happened.
I want to thank all great people that kept asking, well more like nagged, when I will be back with something new, y'all kept me motivated and for that I'm grateful; but especially Roni, Sara and Diana thank you for all your support!
And of course Thanks to my wonderful beta OldFashinedGrl, as always you do such a great job while I drive you crazy!.
All mistakes are mine. Not the characters with those I only play!
The amazing cover is made by anonymouspebble. Thank you!
Enjoy.
"...Something has to make you run
I don't know why I didn't come
I feel as empty as a drum
I don't know why I didn't come..."
Norah Jones
MCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMC
Chapter 1
"Don't Know Why"
The clicking of her heels echoed in the empty parking garage of her condo complex. She was rushing, her legs getting tangled in the long blue coat making it harder for her to keep up her quick pace. The rapid thump of her steps was mirrored in perfect synch with the accelerated rhythm of her heart. It's not that she was late. Not yet, anyway. Even considering the drive she would have to take, and the traffic in LA, especially at this time of day, Sharon Raydor was right on schedule. And yet she was in the biggest hurry.
She slid her purse from her shoulder down to her forearm opening it just enough to take a peek inside and with practiced ease she found her car keys that were hiding in the inside pocket. The beeping sound announcing that her car was unlocked came instantly. With a bit shaky hand, she grabbed the handle of the door and opened it with a jerk. She got in and the second her body settled into the confined space, Sharon finally found a moment in time and space to take a deep breath. Her lungs expanded forcefully, the car's humid air making her eyes close shut from the unrelieved tension, and letting her head fall against the headrest. She needed to calm down. Badly.
It was unusual for her to work herself into such a state of nervousness. Over the years Sharon had found a way to keep all her emotions in check. She had perfectly mastered the ability of always being in control of herself and situations. Following the rules and calculating every possible outcome for every possible circumstance made her appear strict. Many people, especially her fellow officers, considered her a cold hearted wicked witch. She wasn't oblivious to that, but it was a way, her way, to maintain her calm and a certain amount of distance, from getting lost in a vertigo of emotion. But here she was, sucked right into the middle of the swirling vortex. Her trembling fingers clenched into fists now deeply buried in the pockets of her coat. She should have started the engine and at least gotten out of the dark parking garage. There was the hope that taking a drive in the fading light of the long day could bring her much needed tranquility. Slowly she gripped the steering wheel and turned the key in the in ignition, trying to regain focus while guiding the car toward the exit.
Everything was perfectly fine, or rather she had been perfectly fine this afternoon. The team finished earlier this Friday. Paperwork from the case had been easily wrapped up in half a day and while the team headed for their customary drinks, Sharon decided to go home instead, to change and unwind before the dinner she was supposed to have with Andy. Rusty was studying at the library, he had texted her earlier with the reassurance that he would eat something other than burgers tonight. She was sure her boy wasn't all alone and wouldn't be spending the whole night in the library. There was a certain someone on his mind. She could sense it from his absence and by the way his cooking had changed in the last month. Their meals had become spicier and he had started to experiment with new cuisines, not that she minded, but often it could be just too much. At least Rusty was trying new things, had developed some curiosity. Ricky had never cared for cooking or trying anything fancy, he was happy with steak and beer.
When Sharon got home, she had over two hours to get ready. She considered drinking maybe a glass of white wine, but rapidly quickly remembered Andy would not be picking her up. They had decided that they would meet at their usual place, Italian, a small hole in the wall, as Andy liked to call it. It was his favorite trattoria, away from the traffic with a hint of home. It very quickly become her favorite diner, too.
Everything was still fine while she took her shower. The hot stream of the high pressured water relaxed the muscles of her back and invigorated her whole body. She needed it. The washing away of another case, another murder and another killer was a perpetual ritual of hers. She sought strength in these moments, when she could shed a tear or two for the victim, in the solitude of her bathroom, and let the water wash down the drain with every painful emotion the case inflicted her. She wanted to be at her best tonight. Tonight was special.
Sharon was also fine while choosing her outfit. To be honest, she had spent half the day thinking about it and had already meticulously planned what she was going to wear in her mind. The short lilac dress with a grey jacket that went well with her favorite pumps and that scarf she loved, made from the finest silk, the one she had gotten from Andy as a birthday gift, lay ready and waiting on her bed while she stylized her hair. She was pleased with the result, delicate curls that framed her face, and touched her shoulders, looking healthier. Everything was completely ordinary as she shed her robe and donned the purple lace underwear she had recently purchased. Her makeup was another easy habit, too. She might have spent too much time in choosing the perfect shade of pink lipstick. The effect however was more than rewarding.
Although as she stood in front of the mirror, checking once more to see if everything was as she wanted, there was this uneasy feeling that started to creep over her. Suddenly her palms were covered with a layer of sweat. It was a very unusual occurrence for her, since her hands mostly ran cold during the day, so cold it fact it was the reason she often drank hot tea.
That should have been her first indication that something was clearly wrong. Regardless, she pushed the thoughts aside and opened the window, blaming the reaction on the overheated room as she returned her focus to her appearance. And yet, there was a trembling that started in her knees. How was it that her legs felt so wobbly just from one moment to another? She braced herself with one hand on the dresser trying to find some steadiness while the shivering sensation threatened to spread down her spine in jolts. She was surprised by her own reactions and the way her calm was fading away, almost slipping through her fingers. The wave of chills washed over her, making her breathing labored. She was going mad. Moreover, her body was turning against her.
Reluctantly, Sharon stepped over to the bench at the foot of the bed and sunk down on it, her hand automatically searching for and finding the nearest throw pillow. She clenched it to hers stomach and without conscious thought began to rock back and forth trying to fight against the intense constriction gripping her chest. It hurt.
She buried her face in the pillow as a pitiful moan escaped her throat. It seemed to help a little, so she gave in to the feeling and let out a second. It was a huge effort but it helped steady her breathing. With all the force that remained in her possession, Sharon tried to regain control, any small measure of control. It was damn hard while her head felt so dizzy, but this discomfort must be stopped and soon. She had somewhere to be and in this state it was absolutely impossible for her to function. That thought didn't calm her. It only brought another strong surge of raged palpitations.
She needed to at least try and escape this trap of agony. She had to focus, her mind was a blank space and it was becoming more and more frustrating for her so much so that it was to the point of testing her sanity, if there was any left in her. She was compelled to move. It was the best way to fight the overwhelming sensations consuming all of her. And like that she was on her feet, letting the pillow fall on the floor. She grabbed her purse and coat firmly and with frantically ran out of her apartment. While waiting for the elevator she threw on the coat and cinched the belt around herself. She felt the impatience washing over her abusing the elevator call button over and over again, pressing on it fast and hard. It hadn't really occurred to her that getting into a confined space could aggravate her state any further. Hopefully it didn't, not that much anyway, not with as much intensity as it had just minutes before. She was still shaking. Placing one foot after another was her main focus. She just had to keep it together long enough to get to the car. Just long enough for her to get away. To drive.
Now that she was on the road, the route should be an easy choice for her. And yet again, just thinking about it made her shiver with panic once more, so she drove in the opposite direction of where Andy Flynn would be waiting for her.
It was by mutual agreement, this night held so much meaning to both of them.
It was time.
The tension that had settled between them in these last few weeks after The Nutcracker had become unbearable to the point of no return. It didn't matter if it was an evening out and they would linger for hours not wanting the night to end, regardless of how exhausted they both felt, or just during a quick lunch in the middle of the day, when they managed to escape from the murder room for even less than an hour and sought some distraction and comfort in one other. These attractions and feelings they shared were deeply corrosive, making holes in the metal that wall both of them had built as a shelter from love and hurt. Now that it was out in the open, with a big unwanted push from Rusty, her mind didn't stop for a second to think about it, about him.
Their relationship had changed in an unforeseen way. The way that it had all shifted between them still amazed her. She could easily recall the time when just the sound of his name could make her sigh with despair and the way his eyes would roll dramatically at the mere sight of her. There had always been so much energy between them. Its intensity would remain with her, buzzing in her body for days following their encounter. She could always feel the sparks of frustration and anger flowing through the room, getting under her skin, burning. She was never once indifferent to it, to him. She tried to be detached but his vigor left a vibrant bonfire that had grown in force bit by bit. It became almost agonizing whenever they had to deal with each other. Except, life was always in motion and relationships rarely remained stagnant as they fit in between it all so unexpectedly.
Last time they managed to be together and alone they had almost crossed the line, that one thin invisible line that separated friendship from the whole world of dormant emotions. It had started all so innocently. She could have blamed it on her own forgetfulness and miscalculations about the LA weather conditions, but how could she have known that in the two hours they were sitting in the movie theater, it could start to rain and the wind would pick up in speed, just like that. There were no clouds in the sky when they entered the building. However, when the movie was over he guided her towards the exit, his hand on the small of her back. The crowd around them had had practically pushed her into his side as they'd walked. The rain was pouring down full stream. It felt like by some magic trick they had both been transported to Seattle, where the rain was a constant. She had forgotten her jacket in the car and of course he offered her his leather one. For the first time she didn't argue with him about it. It was cold and he was willing, so she took the jacket.
Sharon could still remember the wild fiery thrill that traveled through her veins when he stepped behind her. As he helped her, slowly get into the jacket, sleeve by sleeve, his familiar scent bombarded her senses, and set her whole body tingling. She must have trembled right there with him so near to her skin when his fingers touched her neck while he moved her hair out of his way. He leaned impossibly closer, pressing himself into her back, wrapped his arms around her in an effort to zip up the jacket. She let him. At that point, right there, with the people passing all around them but yet the world was invisible to them, just right then she would have let him do anything he wanted to her. He had nuzzled her neck, his lips settling inches from her ear. What she had heard next was the low, raspy rumbling of his voice asking her if that was better.
It was, but not nearly enough.
She had spun around and braced herself on his upper arms, her nails digging into the material of his shirt while she anchored herself to him. His hands had settled at her hips, and then slid around until he could link his fingers at her lower back and press her even closer to his chest and hips. Their eyes locked. Searching. Both surprised by this sudden development. They had tried to process the profound meaning of it all although there were no rational thoughts in her mind. And yet she had pled to him, silently begging him for the resolution because she was unable to move, unable to speak, unable to think when he trapped her so easily. Her eyes shifted to his lips and the tongue that wet them.
It was too much. Their hearts beat loudly with the unspoken thoughts that ran through both of them.
Andy must have comprehended because he cleared his throat and tried slowly let her go, moving away from her, with one heavy step. But his hands hadn't left her body and it was right in that moment that she clearly understood she didn't really want him too.
What had followed was a phone call from Rusty about his car breaking down. She had to pick him up and their night was cut short, but they resolved to meet again. He escorted her to the car and when another contented but simple touch of their hands was affecting their beings there was no point in denying the obvious anymore. It was time to face it. They had promised that the next time they were alone together it would be for real. It would be a date and they sealed it with a tender kiss on both cheeks.
And here she was, driving as far as possible away from that promise.
Something was holding her back, making her run. She tried to fight it, but every time she thought about turning around her knees started to shake again. She had to inhale a sharp deep breath to calm herself down, but somehow if felt like there was still not enough air. She opened both windows in the front. The strong gust of wind whipped at her curls, almost obscuring her vision of the road. She didn't mind. It was good to feel something else, something other than fright. She tried to take in her surroundings, somehow she had ended up on PCH, driving along the coast. The ocean and the wind where two parts of Los Angeles for which she'd always be grateful. Unfortunately, the endless water was still today, too still. It only served to infuriate her even more. She needed to see it moving, alive, crashing waves on the shore, mixing sand and her own troubles with the wind and fading sun.
The car sped up, and in her head there was a jumble of disconnected images that went in a circle skipping from one thought to another. She was failing at the purpose of this ride. Clearing her head was harder than she'd expected.
Sharon turned on the radio figuring music might make her focus on something other than her current state. There was still an old CD that Emily had once left in her car. When Sharon had first realized it was in there, she wanted to send it back, but her daughter had assured her that she'd already downloaded it to her iPhone or iPod or i... something, so she had never removed it or changed it, and surprisingly neither had Rusty. In the moments like this, when she needed to calm her nerves or to focus her mind on something else, she always let it play. Also, it reminded her of her beautiful daughter which always brought a small smile to her face. As she hit the play button a soft melody spilled from the speakers. The suave sound of a young singer's voice was soothing. It was some sort of jazz, but Sharon for the life of her couldn't remember the name of the singer. Emily had repeatedly reminded her of it but it just never stayed with her. She wasn't good with names anyway. It was one of the many things Andy teased her about.
Andy.
This heart of hers couldn't find a moment of stillness when he returned to her mind. Soon she should be expecting a text or a call from him. Although, Sharon was sure her phone was still plugged into the charger near her dresser and not in her purse. In the hurry with which she rushed out of her condo, she had forgotten all about it, forgotten about everything.
He would be worried about her.
She could picture him her mind's eye, waiting in the lobby of the restaurant for her and for their usual table to be ready, scratching the back of his neck, maybe loosening his tie a little, checking his phone for any sign of her. They liked sitting in the very back, in the farthest corner of the dining area. The solitude of that table or booth always created a feeling of perfect intimacy that was both appreciated and very needed by them. Usually after a hard case or for personal celebrations or just a friendly laugh and a soothing talk, they would end up right there. In that quiet corner, near the fireplace of Guido's Trattoria, they were just Sharon and Andy, two people who not only liked to spend time with each other, but also craved for more every time they had to part.
Once when she had been running late, she had observed him through the blurred glass of the front door before entering the restaurant. He had been leaning against the bar, propped on his elbows, with his legs crossed at the ankles. She had taken a moment to just watch him. the way his broad shoulders shook as he chuckled at something, she was sure he had that mischievous smirk of his while flirting with the young bartender. She didn't mind, of course she didn't, because she would tease him about it later, but mostly because he was waiting for her, showing his innate impatience by drumming his fingers on the hard surface of cold marble. He would do that out of habit, one she was trying to break him of. He would tap his fingers over and over until she finally took his hand in hers to make it stop. The sound of his bones being repeatedly abused with so much insistence made her always grimace with concern. His shy smile after her gesture never failed to soften her, sending a funny sensation to the pit of her stomach.
She was sure he was doing it now. The small bruises from broken veins would be evidence of her damn hesitations and total loss of control while he simply waited, not knowing.
It was so ironic to her that a man with the shortest temper she had ever met. The man that was as hot headed as an incandescent coal, who screamed at reckless and slower drivers on the road, who got infuriated when he had to wait too long in the line for coffee considering every time whether he should flash his badge or not, the man that still stubbornly chased down dirtbags all over LA would always wait for her… in case she needed him.
And she indeed needed him
Not only at work where he would silently support her and loudly disagree with her, stimulating reactions with impetuous results, but also when she needed a sounding board, someone that would let her speak her mind without judgment. She felt safe to share with him. Andy always understood. It felt so easy.
Then why was she running? It made no sense to her, this freak out, as Rusty would call it. Good thing he wasn't home, he would have questions for which she was searching for answers herself.
Sharon slowed the car down and lowered the volume of the music. She was ready to think, to find some balance, some rationality in the middle of this unwanted vertigo. She was ready to face herself. She titled her head until her eyes met the rearview mirror. The dark shade of jade that she saw in her reflection didn't really surprise her, she could hide behind her perfect posture, sharpen her attitude to the extreme, but her eyes would always give her away. When she was struggling and fighting her emotions, her body could be still but her eyes would tell a different story. Not very many knew about the shifting colors within her moods, only the closest and most observant ones, and of course Andy.
For Sharon it really was a long time since she had let herself really go, since she had allowed a man so close, and so deeply into her life and her heart, since she had even let someone take lead and guide her through their mutual feelings. It never came naturally to her. Maybe that was the problem. The love she felt for her children was unconditional, pure and so inherent, but the thought of trying it all again with a man left her head or thoughts or emotions or virtually spinning with fear.
Sharon secretly knew Andy wasn't the kind of man that would use her for his own means, the age for that had long passed for him. Sure Andy Flynn had had a certain reputation in the early days and the objects of his interest were all young and blonde. But by from the way his eyes followed her from the second she entered a room or as she left one, by the way he was always at her side, always watching over her, Sharon knew she had his undivided attention. She wasn't oblivious to that. And this reaction wasn't even about Andy, it was about her and the fight she was having with her oh ever so lonely heart, as Ricky once so subtlety pointed out.
She had been in a state of tranquil solitude until Andy had snuck up on her and filled her life with stories, laughter and often excitement. He became her companion, her friend. She had helped him out on so many occasions and he did the same for her. Somewhere through all that time they had become more than friends and that wasn't an easy thing for Sharon to acknowledge. Maybe she was being silly and her fears were unfounded, but the lack of confidence in this delicate part of life was leaving her unsure and lonely.
It's not about Andy—a new mantra formed in her head as she repeated it few more times. She could doubt herself, but with it she was being so unfair to him, to them. They had decided to try this out, to give it a chance, and while her heart beat wildly and her hands were clammy again, she steered the direction of her car with a clear destination in mind. Now she would be very late. She had driven almost all the way to Malibu. It would take her a while before she reached Marina Del Rey although until now the traffic had been very generous with her.
Maybe at this point she should drive to his house and wait for him there. That would be the right thing to do, and yet there were times when Sharon wasn't as patient as Captain Raydor. Not when it came to the thought of standing on his doorstep, or even sitting in her car, watching every passing pair of headlights hoping it would be him and being disappointed over and over. She would not wait. Something was telling her that Andy would still be at the restaurant. Guido would not let him go until Andy was properly fed and in a lighter mood.
There was a special bond between Andy and the short gray haired Italian man. They shared a history and Guido knew Andy deeply, in a way she had only now started to understand, that he was just recently allowing her to see. She had caught some knowing glances between the men, particularly when a case hit Andy harder than expected. With one look at her lieutenant, Guido just understood, and at the end of the night they would be treated to Andy's favorite desert on the house.
She had been introduced as my friend Sharon. When the man's blue eyes had scanned quickly over her, it had made her feel a bit self-conscious. However, she could tell from his bright smile that he was pleased with what he saw. She didn't mind the protectiveness she sensed in him towards Andy. Later on, she had learned that Andy had never brought a friend to this place and that she had been a surprise for Guido. Andy by no means commented or explained. He just shrugged and glared a little at the restaurateur for making her feel uncomfortable, even if it was only for a second. But he had sensed it, he had felt her tense up, and she still remembered his comforting fingers opening and closing at the small of her back trying to get her to relax into his touch. It had worked like charm just like it did every time she was upset. She had come to like Guido, had become grateful even. She understood that he wasn't just a regular friend. Andy was a solitary man, and very few were part of his life. Guido meant a lot, and she had deduced since they had known each other for so long and so well he must've been Andy's sponsor, someone that Andy could always count on. That thought eased her heart.
Her breathing had changed and small puffs of air were escaping her lips, sounding like desperate little gasps as she pulled into the parking lot near the eatery. She straightened her posture while turning off the engine. It was time to face him, and she felt more and more nervous as she got out the car. Sharon closed the door with force and she leaned into it, just for a moment, to gather herself before she directed her path to the entrance of the bistro.
Just as she was about to walk up the pathway she saw Andy's silhouette as he opened the door. His back was to her and she could see Guido just right behind him handing him a to-go bag, with something sweet inside if she had to guess. The sympathetic expression Guido directed at Andy changed the second he caught sight of her and his hand nudged Andy's arm lightly in her direction.
Something in her chest tightened and she froze in her tracks, still, taking another step towards them seemed a herculean task. She needed to see him before she could make any other movement. Her body had betrayed her once more. Guido gave her a nod in acknowledgment before retreating inside leaving Andy with only a squeeze to his shoulder, a gesture meant to urge restraint. Under normal circumstance she would be the one bringing him that tranquility, not distress.
His movements were slow, nearly unwanted. She could hear his mind counting off numbers to infinity. He was struggling to turn to her. It pained her deeply. Her hands curled up in fists, her arms crossed in front her chest trying to remain steady, preventing the tremor that ran through her the freedom to spread further, she was so impaired by this anticipation.
When the door finally closed and Guido was nowhere to be seen, his body moved and turned. Her lungs contracted when his heavy eyelids blinked a few times at the sight of her. Even from the other part of the street she could see how truly tense he was. His jaw clenched like a vice, teeth pressed against each other, causing the muscles of his neck to bulge. He wasn't looking directly at her. His gaze was like a ghost's, passing through her, refusing to meet her eyes.
Andy Flynn stood rooted on the spot. He was waiting, once again, giving her the opportunity to choose, to come forward or to walk away from him and this time it might even be forever. There was so little that he could do. It was all up to her now. It had always been up to her.
There was a burning pressure at the corner of her eyes. The realization that she was breaking him, piece by piece, taking the little hope there was between them away from him, for them. It was too much to take. She should run, run to him, wrap her arms around his neck, press her body to his, and whisper apologies in his ear over and over, until he would believe in them again. Although the only thing she could do was try to blink away the hot tears stinging the backs of her eyelids and blurring her vision, and take one small step, one after another, slowly, until she was standing right in front of him.
His eyes were focused on her legs as they pulled her toward him with an invisible force to which she could only obey. It was a familiar feeling. In that brief moment she could lie to herself, believe that he would still want her. It gave her enough courage to fight herself.
His shoulders slumped as she approached him, a heavyweight, almost bending him down, a strain that was distracting his mind form the bitter taste in his mouth. Her shadow covered him completely, blocking out the last rays of the weak vanishing sun, leaving him in darkness. But she wasn't his shadow, not if he could help it, although dimness was right above them, dawning deeper and deeper into his cells.
Sharon invaded his space, so close that she could smell his skin. He was swallowing hard at the lump in his throat, the very same she felt. His tie was long gone, the first few buttons of his purple shirt open, but she knew it didn't help him much. There were red spots on his neck showing how elevated his blood pressure really was. It was an issue and she had caused it.
She needed to connect with him. He was avoiding her eyes, her body, hiding all the disappointment and hurt, restraining himself. It was so unlike him. Had he given up on them so easily?
His pulse point was pounding, and the only thing she wanted more than taking another painful breath was to soothe him, to touch him. She lifted her hand and made a tentative movement towards his face, knowing his skin would be hot, a merger of anger and frustration flowing through his veins, making his rage as pronounced as it often was at difficult crime scenes. She could touch him then, couldn't touch him now. Even the slight thought of his rejection right now made her freeze with horrible panic, her fingers started to tremble, only a whisper separating them from his cheek but she wasn't sure of anything anymore.
Andy couldn't stand it any further. He took her hand in his and finally looked right in to her eyes. She could see the shadows of questions and doubts dancing in their depths, all directed at her. She felt guilty. He deserved much better than her. Much better than this. She would try to make amends. She would try harder for them.
She intertwined her fingers through his and placed their join hands above his heart, it was racing like a wild animal running free in the wind. But she was right the touch was very needed. The connection worked. It calmed them both down. It gave them strength and their grip was tight.
She looked deeply in to his eyes, wanting to voice everything at once. "Andy... I..." She tried to speak but it was harder than expected. Her voice burned in her throat, burned with the flames of the gasoline fire that seemed to be flicking on her tongue, making her sound so unsure. So she tried again, forcing the sounds from her lips. "I don't know why I didn't come."
Or did she?
Thank you!
There might be a second chapter... until then... Happy Shandy Sunday!