A/N Tag to White Lies Part two. No beta, all mistakes are mine.
Sometimes he wondered how her hand fit so perfectly in his, as if they were truly made for each other. Her hands are relatively small even though small is not a word that often comes to mind when thinking of Sharon Raydor. The softness of her skin easily distracts him as she runs her thumb up and down over his rough, calloused knuckles. His eyes remain locked on hers until, as if by invitation they drop slowly to her chest where the gentle blush of cashmere and lace fits oh so perfectly. She's speaking again, but he is lost to her words. "Andy…Andy?"
His eyes meet hers once more, a slight grin forming on his lips, "Sorry."
"Hmm," Smiling, she stands quickly, her robe falling open to reveal matching silk pajama shorts. Even in the dim light his eyes dance up and down her beautiful, long, toned legs. Without another word she pulls him to his feet, quietly leading him down the darkened hallway to their bedroom. As they move carefully in the dark, he once again ponders the feel of her hand in his. His mind flashes back, yet again to the images of this same petite hand holding steadfast to her weapon, her aim never faltering.
It took some time, but the fear of what could have happened in that courtroom slowly took residence deep in Andy's soul. It wasn't until they finally got home that first night that he was forced to face his own feelings. Her silence on the drive home was telling, but even more so was her utter lack of emotion. She had gone straight to shower as soon as they entered the condo; afterwards, she had dressed in black yoga pants, a white tank top and his pajama shirt. Once he was showered and ready for bed, he found her on the balcony wrapped in her favorite blanket. Her expression was blank and unfeeling, thus leading Andy's fear to grow two fold. He wished more than anything that he had been able to help her, but honestly he fought to understand fully what she was feeling; for in his mind the dirt-bag deserved to die, end of story. She refused to join him in bed that night, saying she needed a few more minutes to herself. Reluctantly, he kissed her gently on the forehead, leaving her in the cool night air with only her thoughts. Andy easily surrendered to the exhaustion of the last thirty-eight hours not waking until daylight the next morning. It was then that he realized with deep regret that she had never come to bed. Sharon was already dressed for work he found as he padded barefoot into the kitchen; the exhaustion, lack of sleep and despair etched heavily on her beautiful face. He knew she could not continue to let this eat her alive, but he also knew that she needed more than he could give. It was then that he asked if she had considered speaking to Father Thomas. She gripped his hand tightly across the kitchen counter, her fingers slipping so perfectly between his. She nodded her head slowly, her eyes finally beginning to lose the depth of dark murky green that had consumed them in the last two days.
The soft click of the bedroom door closing drew Andy from his thoughts of days gone by, shifting his focus back to the beautiful creature standing beside him. Her fingers were still linked tightly in his. Instead of stepping toward the bed, he pulled her tenderly into his arms in one swift motion, his lips finding much needed solace against hers. Their joined hands remained linked against his chest as her free hand found anchor against his shoulder allowing her to rise to her tiptoes for better access. Using his other hand, Andy pulled her tightly against him, savoring the soft crush of her body against his. The feel of her lips against his still made him feel giddy with want as if it was the first time he tasted her. Tonight, she tasted of an all too familiar mix of chamomile and soft mint. Reluctantly she broke the kiss, burying her face in the crook of his neck, she breathed in his calming scent. "Thank you." Her whisper was soft, full of emotions that she had felt forced to hide.
Without a reply, he led her to the bed, their hands only coming unlinked for Andy to remove his shirt and Sharon her robe. They settled down, her head moving to rest on his chest, her cold feet edging under the warmth of his legs. "Feel like you can sleep?" the deep rumble of his voice, tickling against her ear.
His hand had moved beneath the soft silk waistband of her pajama bottoms, resting gently on the curve of her hip. Her sigh was deep, cleansing. "Yes…finally. Andy?"
He could feel her turning to look at him even though he couldn't see her eyes in the darkened bedroom. "I meant what I said…Thank you."
"I didn't…" He started, but was stopped by the press of her finger against his lips.
She shifted slightly, molding herself even more into his side, if that was possible. Her fingers eased through the course patch of hair peppering his chest, finally coming to rest just above his heart. "You were…you are… exactly what I need. You gave me space when I needed it, you gave me unconditional love and most of all you helped me find hope in what was... in my mind, a hopeless situation."
"Father Thomas gave you hope…" Andy started again.
"In the end maybe, but Andy…" Her voice faltered, hot tears finally breaking through her strong facade to slip down her cheek to his chest. "You pointed me in the right direction without pushing me. I would have waited until this case is over to talk with Father Thomas. But your simple suggestion made me see that I couldn't wait, you… saved me from myself."
Andy swallowed hard, his heart overwhelmed with love and adoration for the amazing woman cradled into his side. "I love you."
"You... get me." Her words pierced his heart, filling his body and mind with an everlasting warmth.
Gingerly, he placed a soft kiss to the top of her head, "Get some sleep, sweetheart. You have to be exhausted."
She wiped at the damp patch on her cheeks and his chest before settling back against him, "Andy, I love you too."
Minutes passed, listening for her breathing to even out into the languid sounds of sleep, Andy tried to still his mind and the thoughts haunting him. He swallowed hard again, but it was no use, he could no longer stop the gentle roll of hot tears down his own cheeks. The resounding banter of "this is not over" sounded loudly in his mind. He knew none of them, least of all Sharon, would give up until they found who was behind this evil conspiracy, but at what cost would justice finally come.
