A/N Tag to episode 5.18 Bad Blood. Thanks for your continued reviews, likes, follows and PMs. No beta all mistakes are mine.

Steam began to fill the small bathroom as the tub slowly filled. The scent of sweet lemon hung delicately in the air. With the last of her makeup removed and her hair piled high on top of her head, Sharon began to leisurely undress. It had been a while since she had a night to herself and she planned to take full advantage of a few alone hours. After dropping Ricky at the airport, Rusty had plans to spend the night with Gus; while Andy caught a meeting before joining Provenza at his favorite watering hole. It would be late when he finally got Provenza home, seeing as Patrice was out of town. She loved having Ricky at home for a few days, but sharing one small bathroom with three boys; and yes, at times all three acted like little boys; came with its own set of obstacles.

Down to only her pale blue panties, Sharon checked the water level before walking back into their bedroom to find something to sleep in. Her fingertips just met with the cool metal knob of Andy's t-shirt drawer when she heard what sounded like a knock. She paused, stepping closer to the bedroom door; the knock sounded again. "Damn-it!" she muttered under her breath. Hurrying back into the humid bathroom, she turned the water off. Grabbing the closest thing she could find, she shrugged on a pair of jeans and Andy's discarded dress shirt from the day before. Knotting the shirt at her waist as she hurried down the hall, stopping short once she got to the door. The knock sounded again, even louder this time. Rising up on her toes to peer out the peep hole, the sight before her did nothing to ease her irritation. With a deep sigh, she slowly opened the door.

"I thought for a minute you were going to ignore me."

"The thought did cross my mind," she smirked. "What can I do for you, Jack? If you are looking for your son, you're too late as usual; Ricky left a few hours ago."

"Well, are you going to let me in, or you going to make me stand out here in the hallway?"

With her second deep sigh of the night, Sharon moved back, allowing Jack to step into the foyer. She quietly closed the door behind him, her arms coming to rest across her chest as she moved closer to the entry hall table in hope of not having to offer for him to have a seat.

His eyes slowly wandered from her bare feet and bright pink nail polish, up her long legs and well-fitting jeans to the oversized shirt that obviously belonged to Andy. "You look good." Jack started, "No seriously Sharon, you do," he continued as she rolled her eyes.

"What do you want Jack?" her patience already running thin.

"I just wanted to talk that's all," he shrugged as Sharon eyed him suspiciously. With Jack, there never was a simple conversation. "Don't marry him!" His voice rose, as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets and stepped closer to her, "It's one thing to shack up with the bastard, but marriage. Come on Sharon! What the fuck are you thinking? Andy…Fucking…Flynn of all people! Have you lost your god damn mind!"

"I don't need…" Sharon started.

"No, I'm not finished," stepping even closer, Jack pointed a finger at her. "He'll only ending up hurting you, trust me, I…"

"Trust you? Really, Jack…" she shook her head in disgust.

The half-smile that crossed his lips was sickening, "You do realize, you're not the first woman that Flynn and I have shared? He has a history of wanting what's mine…"

The laugh bubbled from her throat before she could stop herself, "What's yours…" She stepped to move past him, intent on showing him to the door, "This conversation is ov…"

His sudden, bruising grip on her upper arm stopped her in her tracks, "I suggest you listen to me, Shar…ron."

Her eyes narrowed, "And I suggest you remove your hand!"

Jack's grip only tightened as he pulled her roughly to him, the bourbon now evident on his breath, "He'll get tired of you…just you wait and see. I know the kind of women he likes and trust me honey, it's not you. I'm sure it's all sunshine and roses right now but there's only so much nagging a man can take. I know firsthand what's like having to listen to you day in and day out. And poor Flynn will be getting a double dose at work and at home. I give it six months… " Her mind slowly shut down for a few moments, as Jack continued to rant, his words becoming lost to her.

"Damn it, Sharon are you even listening to me?" Coming out of her reverie, her reflexes automatically took over. Once her knee collided effectively with his groin, Jack did not simply let go as she had hoped. Instead, in his fury, Jack shoved her firmly away from him. "You fucking bitch!" he growled through the pain as she collided awkwardly with the hall table. Unable to keep her balance, she fell heavily to the hard wood floor. He edged closer, quicker than she thought possible given the pain he should be in and for a brief moment she expected him to kick her. Instead, as both struggled to get their breathing in check, he reached into the inside pocket of his sports coat, pulling out a white envelope. With a grimace, he leaned forward slightly, dropping the envelope into her lap. "Don't bother getting up, I can show myself out." She stared after him as he limped slowly to the door, "Oh and Sharrron… remember what I said, you will NEVER be enough for him. He'll cheat on you first chance he gets."

"Go to hell, Jack!" Her tone was low, causing him to pause just inside the open doorway.

"I'm already fucking there!" The door slammed loudly behind him.

She sat, eyes locked on the white envelope resting on her lap, her name scrawled across the front in familiar, messy blue ink. She pulled the paper taunt between both hands intent on ripping it into pieces but in the last second, she stopped herself. The contents of this single envelope could hold the key to the future she wanted, the future she deserved with Andy. With a soft groan, she struggled to her feet; feeling every bit her age, she walked into the kitchen eyeing the bottle of red wine resting on the counter.

Andy slipped his key into the lock, careful to be as quiet as possible. The condo was dark, except for the single light burning above the kitchen sink. Toeing out of his shoes, he scooted them under the edge of the hall table. Even in the darkened entry way something seemed off, it took Andy only a few seconds to realize the table had been moved several inches to the right causing a nasty scrape in the paint on the backwall. With a frown, he moved through the living room to the kitchen, there a single wine glass sat out of place on the counter next to an unopened bottle of wine. Wasting no more time, Andy hurried toward their bedroom. The lamp on Sharon's side the bed shone bright, but the bed was empty, the covers still in place. He glanced at the partially cracked bathroom door, "Sharon? Sharon, are you in there?" Pulling the door open the rest of the way, Andy stepped into the also empty bathroom. His eyes quickly moved from her glasses resting on the vanity to the almost full tub. He stepped forward, his fingertips dipping slightly into the now cold water.

Panic brewed just below the surface as Andy made his way back through the condo to the only other place she could be. He slid the balcony door open with a soft whoosh, his eyes swiftly scanning the dark night. She lay curled on her side on the farthest chaise lounge, her back to him. Stepping closer, he took a deep cleansing breath. "Sharon?" he called softly as his hand made contact with her knee. She flinched away from him, instantly sitting up with a soft groan. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," he sat down next to her. "I was worried when I couldn't find you."

Avoiding eye contact, her hands moved to brush the loose hair from her face, "what time is it?"

"Not quite midnight." He leaned back slightly, trying to get a good look at her. "Sweetheart…" He reached out intent on taking her hand but he could feel the tension radiating from her the instant their hands met. She stood, abruptly moving away from him; but he didn't miss the pained expression that slipped across her face.

"It's not you," her voice was but a whisper as she moved to the balcony railing, her back to him. "I just need…some space."

"Okay…but come back inside." His eyes traveled up from her bare feet to his rumpled dress-shirt from the day before. "It's freezing out here."

"No… not yet…" she slowly shook her head, "Go on to bed, I'll be there soon."

"Sharon…" He stood, moving just behind her.

"Please Andy!"

Defeated, his hand skimmed lightly along her lower back as he stepped toward the balcony door, "I love you."

A sad smile, cast in the shadows of the distant lights from the city, ghosted across her lips. "I know."

It pained Andy to close the door, leaving her alone with only the cool night air as comfort. Yet, he knew not push her, she would come to him in time. He stood for several moments watching through the glass, hoping she would turn back to him and come inside. As the minutes ticked by, he couldn't help but wonder what happened. Running his hands through his hair, he slowly turned, walking the short distance back to their bedroom. In the time, it took Andy to get ready for bed, he kept coming back to one and only one explanation…Jack.

Taking several deep cleansing breaths, Andy stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he willed himself to remain calm. He knew despite what Ricky and Emily thought, Jack would never quietly give up his ties to Sharon. But what worried him even more was the history he shared with Jack, a history that Sharon said she did not need to hear. To say that they were drinking buddies back in the day did not full describe their friendship; there was a lot dirt between the two of them that for now had remained unturned. "Holy shit!" he muttered under his breath. Dropping his toothbrush back into place, Andy turned, with his head hung low, he walked slowly back into the bedroom.

Mossy green met deep chestnut as Sharon looked up from where she sat cross-legged on his side of the bed. Just the fact that she was there waiting, made him breathe a little easier. The jeans and shirt she had on earlier lay across the bench at the foot of their bed while his old green robe swallowed her. "I was cold," she shrugged.

Never loosing eye contact, Andy rounded the bed. He settled in behind her, resting against the headboard, he gently pulled her against the warmth and ease of his chest. She sighed deeply, finally letting herself relax against him. He held her there for several minutes, both taking comfort in the silence surrounding them. "You okay?" his voice was low against the top of her head.

With a low hum, she moved regretfully from his embrace. They needed to talk and she couldn't say everything she wanted cocooned in the protective hold of his arms. It was her instinct to move off the bed all together, but his gentle tug to her wrist stopped her. So, she settled just a few feet away, closer to the foot of the bed. When she finally started to speak, it was even worse than he had imagined. He hated Jackson Raydor, but he also hated the man he once was. She could see the anger and regret wash over him, "Andy, I'm not upset with you."

"Yeah, well… maybe you should be." He looked down, his hands balled into tight fists in his lap.

"Andy?" his eyes slipped closed as his head remained bowed. She slowly edged closer. "Andy, look at me."

It wasn't until he felt the cool touch of her fingertips against his hand that he finally looked up. It only took a brief second for him to get lost in the love and acceptance radiating from her beautiful green eyes. There was more they both could say, but there really was no need. The way they looked at each other, the way their hands fit so perfectly together was enough for them to know that the past no longer mattered. Together, they would make new memories and leave old pains behind them.