She felt all eyes on her as her heels clicked down the tile hallway. It wasn't an unusual feeling, and it wasn't unusual for her to be here, a setting like this. Her heels were loud, almost driving her crazy. Truth be told, she hated the heels, hated most heels, at least right now at this stage in life. She had two small children, and in reality, she wanted comfortable shoes. She spent too much time on her feet to truly enjoy her heels. Sure, heels were great-sexy even-but that wasn't the stage of life she was in now. She'd discovered, though, that she seemed to gain more respect, more notice in her heels. She'd almost tried it as an experiment, wearing her heels to different crime scenes versus wearing her comfortable loafers, shoes that were much easier to climb around crime scenes and do her actual work, but the evidence, in her case, didn't lie. She was given more respect when in heels.
So, she'd bought more heels, trying to find ones that balanced some comfort with style. That was hard, next to impossible, but she'd chalked it up to a work hazard almost, foot pain. She'd worn them proudly, crime scene after crime scene, dealing with fellow officers. She knew people looked at her, and sadly, the heels made them take her seriously. Sadly, she wanted that respect for just being herself, but it was a reality, at least within the department. Today, though, she wanted to be inconspicuous, but the heels, they were loud and causing everyone to look at her. While expected, she just wanted to blend in like everyone else.
She pulled at the curtain slightly and stepped around it, her eyes darting as she quickly surveyed the scene. Her eyes landed on a woman first standing there, and she gave her a quick nod as she tried to put on a small smile. Her location was confirmed when she heard Provenza mutter something and then laid eyes on him behind the woman.
"Hi," she nodded to the woman. "Lieutenant Provenza," she said, also with a small nod. Her eyes still darted. While the two shared the same rank, she always tried to remain professional with those in the LAPD. Of course, one could argue that taking in Andy and sleeping with him had crossed those lines, but in her professional role, she did try to remain professional.
"We already went over our statement with everyone at the scene," he grumbled. She watched as he looked up to the woman, his wife, she was sure, even though Sharon hadn't met her.
"No, no," she gestured with her hands. "I'm not on the case. I, ahh-" she stammered.
"Hi, I'm Sharon," the woman said sticking out her hand. "Louie's wife. Who are you?"
"Raydor," Provenza gestured. "You've heard her mentioned. Internal Affairs, you know, the office no one can stand."
"Louie, hush," his wife, Sharon, smacked at him, earning a groan from him. Sharon studied him, noting the large gash above his eyebrow. He still had some blood on his neck, but otherwise he looked okay. "Last thing you need is more trouble with the LAPD. What can we do for you?"
"Where's Andy?" Sharon asked, looking around the room again as if he was almost hiding. Clearly, though, he wasn't here, and her nervousness started to make her agitated. "Sharon Raydor, by the way," she said with an almost nervous smile toward Provenza's wife.
"Sharon and Sharon," Provenza said under his breath in an almost grumble. "Sharon, you know," he gestured and sank his head back onto the bed. He locked eyes with his wife and then rolled them toward Sharon at the doorway.
"Oh!" Sharon, Provenza's wife exclaimed. "I know-"
"Flynn," Provenza started to say and glared at his wife to keep her mouth shut, "well, let's just say that the doctors here are finally listening to what I've been saying for years! They recognize the man doesn't have a brain and have him in surgery trying to put one in. As we all know, it won't be successful. That idiot is as clueless as you get."
"Oh, hush, Louie," his wife smacked at him. She pointed toward Sharon who was still there, confused, but at Provenza's sarcasm, now had her arms crossed and was frowning at him.
"Lieutenant," she said, her voice irritated as she sighed. "Where is he? Is he okay?"
"Sharon," Provenza's wife said, stepping forward, "may I call you Sharon? Louie is just being his normal self. Obviously, aside from some cuts, scrapes, and two broken ribs, he's okay. Andy should be too."
"That idiot bank robber couldn't drive! No wonder he's been arrested before!" Provenza yelled from the bed. Sharon had rushed over, well, tried not to look like she was rushing over, after she'd heard that Andy and Provenza had been hit driving through an intersection. They'd been minding their own business, not aware that two streets over a bank robber had just taken off and was fleeing the scene. They'd stopped the bank robber, but at the expense of their car. They'd had a green light, were in the intersection, and they'd been hit hard on the side. While it was good a civilian had not been hurt or hit, it still didn't change that Andy and Provenza were people too with those who cared about them. Sharon, here, now, was trying to find out how he was doing without getting too worked up. The initial report had been that one officer was critical, but she'd heard just as she'd arrived in the ER that the initial report had been wrong; both were banged up, but both should recover.
"Ahh, Sharon is fine," she said, looking to Provenza's wife as she tried to process all of the information coming her way. She still was a nervous wreck on the inside and trying hard not to display it. She locked eyes with Sharon, "I'm a colleague, a friend of Andy's. He lived at my place for almost a year."
Sharon nodded as she listened to Sharon, "Yes, yes, I'm sorry we haven't met. I know who you are."
"Unfortunately, Flynn will be like the Scarecrow, still without a brain," Provenza smirked from his bed. Both Sharons turned toward him and glared. He scowled at them, and both women turned back to each other.
"Andy is banged up, more than Louie here," Provenza's wife explained. "He's out getting a final set of x-rays. Andy's side of the car took the brunt of the impact. He has three broken ribs they are confirming," she said with a nod, "a large gash on his chin, bruising all over his face, and he's really sore from where the seatbelt hit him. The ribs on both are from the brunt of the impact and the air bags."
Sharon nodded as she listened, relaxing slightly, but not enough. She would like to see him. It had been just over a week since the two had spent their evening at dinner, the memory still fresh in her mind. The wedding, Andy's ex's wedding, was now just a couple days away. The two hadn't talked much since, the case he had consuming most of his time, but she'd planned to call him this evening about the wedding details. Now, it seemed trivial.
"Thank you," Sharon said as she nodded. "I wanted to stop by after work."
"Sure," she heard Provenza chime in as he groaned. "Because work ends at 3:30, right?"
"Lieutenant," Sharon said crisply as she glanced around Sharon, "it does when you start at 4:30 AM as I did today. So, yes, I am stopping on my way home."
Sharon turned back to the woman who shared the same name and found her almost smirking. She tried to relax, standing there, but she was still uneasy about the extent of Andy's injuries. She thought back to the moment she heard, and her heart sank. He was dear to her, and she wanted to see for herself that he would be okay. She glanced up when she felt Sharon's hand grasp hers.
"Andy has said how great you have been. He's really been through it, but you know that. I mean, the guy was living on Louie's couch before we got married. It's good to finally meet you," Provenza's wife said.
"Ahh, likewise," Sharon nodded, feeling slightly out of place. She didn't know much of anything about Provenza's wife, just the few things Andy had mentioned here or there. As they stood there, commotion behind her had her turn, and the curtain was pulled back. Andy was wheeled back into the room, and she bit her lip to hide her shock. His face looked awful. It was cut, bruised, and truthfully, had she not been told by a few people now that he was okay, she wouldn't have believed it. His one eye was almost swollen shut. She turned.
"Sharon, hey, you didn't have to come down here," Andy said at the sight of her. "Not my best color," he gestured to the hospital gown they'd put him in with his clothing covered in blood.
"Hi," she said, finally letting out that nervous breath she didn't know she was holding. She stepped toward him, allowing the staff to put his bed back in place before she stepped further. "Oh, I was in the neighborhood," she shrugged.
Andy chuckled, but he instantly clutched his side, groaning in pain, "Man, it hurts. I'm sure the sight of you here scared half the LAPD out there into thinking they were under investigation or better yet, that Provenza and I were at fault here and going to get kicked to the curb for being stupid."
"Flynn! I told you it wasn't my fault!" Provenza yelled from his side of the area.
"I know that, you idiot!" Andy yelled back, banging his fist on the tray table there in front of him. "I'm just commenting on the fact Sharon is here."
"Calm down," Sharon said, shushing him as she reached out her hand to the side of his bed. "How are you feeling?" Sharon stepped closer, now just at the side of his bed. She had a better look at his injuries, a lot of bruising, yes, the broken ribs, which she could see he was clutching in pain, and his face had definitely seen better days.
"I realize things could have gone much worse, but I still feel better than I do when I had to sit in remediation with Sandra before we got divorced. How is that?" Andy tried to flash a smile at her, but again grimaced in pain.
"Stop," she swatted at him as she chuckled. It felt good for her to chuckle. An hour ago she'd been worried sick.
"I'll be okay," he said, putting his hand up in surrender. "I guess Provenza's driving there got us a few days off work. Thanks, Provenza, but next time, I will just work. Not interested in the broken ribs."
"You are just on a roll," Sharon shook her head and gave him a small smile. "What has the doctor said?"
"Ahh, nothing serious. They were just double checking my ribs. I guess first x-rays weren't the best. They are going to wrap me, and I can go home, or I should say to Provenza's place. Sharon is going to watch both of us."
Sharon turned toward Provenza and Sharon, and she pointed to Sharon, "Bless you. Watching the two of them will not be easy."
"Well aware, but these two know I hold a lot of power over them. They will behave or else with me," she said, smiling at her husband. "Right, Louie?"
"Whatever," he waved. "I'm ready to go. Where is that young Doogie Howser who calls himself a doctor to discharge us?"
"Provenza, he said he'd be back. Just calm down. I'm in no rush to run out of here. Someone needs to let the officers and detectives in the hall that we aren't dying today. They can leave. It looks like they are waiting for the bad news or something," Andy said, his voice almost breathless as he tried to get comfortable.
"Well, I need to go to the bathroom, and I'm going to go," Provenza said, moving to get off the bed. He was dressed, fresh clothing, sweats and a sweatshirt that Sharon was sure his wife had brought him. She looked over to Andy's bedside and saw similar clothing-a generic LAPD sweatshirt and sweats. Someone had provided clothing to both of them to wear out of here.
"Louie, I'm walking you to that bathroom," Sharon called to her husband. "Last thing I need is you falling and having to stay here overnight." Sharon watched the two walk out around the curtain, and when they were both finally out of the space, Sharon turned back to Andy, crossed her arms, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.
"How are you really?" Sharon asked quietly, eyeing him.
"Nothing serious," he said again, restating what he'd told her before. She raised an eyebrow at him.
"Andy, please, at least be honest," she sighed.
"What do you want me to say? Hurts like a pain in my side," he smirked. "Pain is intense. I don't want to take much for the pain. I have a headache, but they said no concussion. Just a headache from this miserable day-that's my problem. I feel like I was banged up in a car accident. Here," he patted the side of his bed, "take a load off and sit. Your feet have to be killing you."
Sharon shrugged and looked to where he was patting for her to sit. She had to admit that she did want to sit, and finally, she just did. She sat sideways, looking at him.
"There," he nodded. "Thanks for coming, but I hope you know I'm okay and didn't need you to stop by here. Really."
"I was worried about you," she said quietly and glanced down at her feet. When she looked up, he was sitting there looking back at her. "Why wouldn't I be worried?"
"Thanks for worrying about me," he said with a small shrug, "but I'm okay. I'm banged up, yeah, but I'll be okay. I know my face probably looks like Frankenstein right now, but whatever. It's not like I had looks to start."
"Hmm," Sharon nodded and flashed a slight grin at him, "no comment."
"Hey," he joked and laughed again. "Stop making me laugh. By the way, I'm not going home with Provenza. I'll be fine at my place."
Sharon looked to him, concerned, "I'm worried about you. You aren't well."
"Broken ribs-it's nothing that's going to kill me," he nodded to her. "Trust me, didn't work today. I'll be okay. Let's talk about you-want to tell me about rushing down here?"
"I didn't rush," Sharon told him quickly, and he tilted his head to give her a look. She gestured with her hand.
"I didn't rush, but I also couldn't just stay at work," she admitted. "I might have told a white lie to your partner that I stopped here on my way home. I mean, I am going home, not back to work, but I didn't get into work as early as I might have told him." She blushed slightly admitting that to Andy, and he winked at her.
"Secret is safe with me. It's not like I'm going to argue that a fantastic lady wanted to come and see me here in the hospital. Thanks, Sharon," he said, reaching to squeeze her hand. The two were quite for several moments. Finally, Sharon met his gaze, and she cleared her throat.
"Ahh, look, I don't like the idea of you going home alone," she told him.
"Not up for discussion," he raised his free hand. "I live in a tiny apartment. It's not like I'm going to be up cleaning three floors of a home. My own bed-that's what I need. Hot shower, and I can hide from the rest of the world for a few days."
"You're a grown man, and I'm not going to talk you out of it," Sharon said, meeting his eyes, "but I do want you to promise if you are in pain or in need of anything, you will contact me. I'll only leave you at your own place if you let me drive you home."
Andy frowned slightly, trying to think of how he could convince Sharon that it wasn't necessary. He looked to her face, saw the concern, and he reached again and squeezed her hand, "Fine. You drive a hard bargain."
"Ahh, so when do you think you will be discharged?" Sharon said, reaching to put hair behind her ear. "I am going to step out and call the kids' school to tell them I won't be there until later."
"Sharon, go, please. I can get home. Sharon can drop me off," Andy said.
"She can and she will-this Sharon," she pointed to herself. Andy tried to chuckle again, finally deciding that arguing wasn't going to change anything. He nodded. Sharon stood.
"I'll be right back. Do you need anything?" Sharon asked.
"A redo of the day," Andy said, gesturing with his hand to his face. Sharon bit her lip looking at his bruised face.
Before she stepped away, she leaned down and ran her finger over the swollen side of his face. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, a sweet gesture and quietly said, "I couldn't stand the idea of something happening to you. I'm sorry you are hurt, but I'm glad you will be okay, Andy."