It was much later that same night, close to midnight when Sharon walked down her hallway toward her kitchen. She needed a cup of tea; sleep would not come easily tonight even though she was exhausted. Her hot shower had helped, and she hoped that fixing a cup of tea-decaf, of course-would be just the right thing. She reached up to rub her neck; it was sore, probably the stress getting to her. She sighed and startled herself when she noticed Andy reading in the living room.

"Oh, hi," she said with a weak smile. She crossed her arms over her chest, not that she was exactly self-conscious, but she'd always been aware of being in her pajamas around him. She glanced down, not that anything she had on looked remotely questionable. She was wearing her old, fuzzy slippers, socks because her feet were extremely cold, flannel pants that she'd had for years, and old LAPD t-shirt and a new robe she'd bought only because her old one had finally fallen apart. Her face had been scrubbed clean, and her hair, while she'd used the blow dryer on it, was flat and looked defeated, almost how she felt. She nodded toward Andy, "Sorry to bother you."

"No, it's fine," Andy said as he closed the book. He gave her a sympathetic smile, "Actually, I wanted to check on you and didn't want to bother you. I decided to sit here and read, knowing that if you couldn't sleep, you might make tea."

Sharon nodded and looked to the floor, not wanting to admit he was right. She shook her head and looked back to him, a hint of a smile on her face, "What if I was?"

"I'd ask for you to make two cups. Something in the way you make the tea, it's always better than when I try and make it. Seems you have the magic touch," he admitted.

"Okay," she told him. "I'll make some tea."

"I'll finish my chapter," he said as he held up his book to her.

Several minutes later, Sharon brought both mugs over to the living room and put his down on the coffee table. Because he was sitting on the couch, she took the recliner. Before she got comfortable, she pulled the blanket over her legs and curled up, her tea in her hands.

"Cold?" Andy nodded. Sharon rolled her eyes, and he nodded again, "Right, you're always cold."

The two sat in silence, sipping on their hot tea. Finally, Sharon cleared her throat, "I don't know why I'm feeling so defeated. I knew he'd do this again."

Andy nodded and then finally shrugged, "You were hopeful his good behavior would last. It's like you knew he was trying."

"Jack just will never be anything he needs to be to the kids. I'm over even saying he should be anything I want; I don't want anything from him, just for him I guess to realize he should be a dad."

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but people can change if they want," Andy admitted. "He's not changed now, but maybe someday he will."

Sharon pursed her lips and stared at Andy. He gestured with his free hand, "I'm proof of that. There are days it's so hard, days I want a drink, but I know I have too much to lose with my own kids."

"Hmm, at some point, though, as a mother, I have to protect myself, even though, yes, people can change," Sharon stated in a slow tone as she thought.

"Totally agree," Andy offered. "So, place was empty?"

"Void of any personal items," Sharon admitted. "I should have known he was even renting furniture. He told me the apartment had been unfurnished, but I just assumed he'd bought the furniture he had. All that was left was the rental furniture. Landlord said the company had been contacted to come get it, so Jack has had this planned for some time at least. I'm glad I got the few things belonging to the kids back. I still can't believe he skipped town and didn't say a word."

Andy nodded and sipped his tea. Sharon let out a long breath.

"I should have known he'd do this now," she finally said. "He had promised a large back child support payment after his current case. Of course, that was before he was fired."

"Sleeping with two of the secretaries on his floor," Andy sighed. "Jack, Jack, Jack."

"Creature of habit," Sharon said quickly after she sipped her tea. "I should have kept up my guard."

Andy shrugged, "Your kids have a few good memories of their dad. That matters. I mean, sure, he's a dirt bag and has skipped town. You have the legal grounds now to keep him away from the kids, but at least Emily has those memories. She will remember her times with him."

"I suppose," Sharon nodded. "Yes, though, as you said, at least the kids are mine, all mine, free and clear. Jack skipping town again solidifies my case at least."

The two settled into silence again. Andy watched Sharon; she could feel his eyes on her, worrying about her, and she knew she'd recover. She'd been knocked down today, actually thinking she could rely on her ex-husband, and once again, he'd let her down. She'd recover; she just needed this time to process everything.

"Why do men cheat, or just in general, why do people cheat?" Sharon broke the silence and looked Andy directly in the eye.

"Me?" Andy pointed to himself. "You're asking me? I've never cheated," Andy admitted, his voice lifting in defense.

"No, no, no," Sharon waved her hand at him. "I'm sorry; I wasn't asking that in reference to you having experience. I'm sorry," she waved off the question. "I'm just thinking. My mind is wandering. I suppose maybe that was a rhetorical question that I should have kept internally."

"No," Andy said as he sat forward to put his mug down on the coffee table. He sat back and shifted, crossing his leg, "It's a good question, a sad one, but one that is reality. Answer is that I really don't know. I wonder why people kill each other," Andy chuckled lightly at his joke. He nodded back to Sharon, "I believe people turn to other things-alcohol, drugs, women, men-whatever because they don't realize how good they have it. They are always looking for something better or wanting to bury their feelings. That was me with alcohol."

"I was never enough for Jack," Sharon said as she stared off toward the door. She shook her head, deep in her own thoughts.

Andy sat forward again, hoping to catch her eye. When he didn't, he nodded to her and called to her, "Sharon," he waited for her to look at him and continued, "you aren't the problem. Jack is. You're a wonderful person. Sandra wasn't my drinking problem. I was my own problem. People do their own things, make their own decisions. Some of us just try to own it eventually, at least that's what I'm realizing."

Sharon was quiet again; Andy sat there too. Finally, Sharon shifted and sat forward, putting her mug on the table. She stood and gave Andy a small smile, "Thank you for listening to my rambling. I'm sure I didn't make any sense."

Andy stood and gave her a shrug, "What are friends for, right? You made plenty of sense. You got knocked down today. I'm glad I could help. I'm glad I could feed your kids while you drove over to check on that dirt bag, or the remnants of that dirt bag. You're a great mom and doing a great job with your kids."

Sharon teared up as he described her. She started to fold the blanket so she didn't have to look at him; she could feel tears in the corner of her eyes. Finally, she met his gaze. He gave her a warm, comforting smile. She waved her hand by her face, "Thanks. I'm not always the tough FID detective."

"No, you're human," Andy winked. He stepped toward her and opened his arms, "You're a friend who needs a hug. Come here."

Sharon hugged him back briefly but with quite a grip, almost like she was hanging onto him for life. She felt him kiss the top of her head, and with that, she pulled back and quickly glanced up at him. He shook his head and waved with one hand, "Sorry, instinct," he said with a nervous chuckle. "I guess that's what I do with Nicole when she is sad; I kiss the top of her head."

Sharon just nodded, the two still standing there. She leaned up and kissed his cheek quickly, "Thanks again for listening. In some ways, you did make it better."

She stepped away and turned to her room, not turning back to him. Andy stood there and watched. When he heard her close her bedroom door, he looked down at the table and picked up the mugs. He had hoped he'd helped ease her worries at least tonight. He hated seeing his friend like that, but he also wanted to kick himself for crossing his invisible boundary; he had gotten too close, something he'd feared. He knew Sharon realized it too, and it couldn't happen again.