A/N: First: I'd say you can generally follow this even if you haven't read 'Half-truths, Whole Lies' even if this is the continuation of the same universe.

I got some awesome reviews on 'Lies' and I can't thank you enough! I've been clearing my writing folder and what do you know, found random offcuts to 'Lies'. Plenty of fluff, sandwiched by some angst. :) I guess most are based on suggestions on 'Lies'. (Yes, I love suggestions and prompts.)

This is just a kind of a B side to the last chapter of 'Lies'. Might or might not post more.)

(Still don't have a beta, still don't own Major Crimes and all the usual.)

Truth Do Us... Together?

Unexpected. This whole thing had been unexpected from the start. Sure they had always got on, at least to the extent you did with a colleague you saw now and again. Sure they had fought, opposed each other, even riled each other on purpose. But that was work. That was how he worked out his frustrations. That was how she liked to keep her distance.

Then they were thrust together. Put on the same boat, so to speak. As the days progressed, there was a conversation there, a chat here. Still nothing more than the idle talk of acquaintances. Maybe it was when she got to watch him work up close, maybe it was because of Rusty fishing out her caring side, that they found some sort of an understanding. A tiny seed of friendship.

And then, then she went and invited herself to his family drama. She had thought it as a one-off, a good deed she could do as a good Christian. Well, for good deeds done she was promised good things in due time...If that kiss just now was anything to go by, due time was pretty much now. All it had taken was an unexpected agreement to a year long charade of faking a relationship.

Except that their relationship had been one of the best friendships of her adult life. He was funny, caring, smart, a gentleman through and through. A good listener. And sometimes so adorably lost. Sharon would have liked to say exactly the kind of man she fell for, but in truth, that was never how it went. Maybe that was why she had been so clueless about what he meant to her for so long. No, against all expectations, Andy Flynn turned out to be exactly the type of a man Sharon Raydor did not fall for.

The kiss that not two hours ago ended all pretences of a platonic friendship between them had left behind a certain peace. She could still see her lips duelling with his but there was no burn to repeat the experience. Not right now, anyway. Instead she felt an inexplicable, desperate need to cling as close to him as she could. The bench was large enough but the beach air was cold enough to give her a plausible excuse. He didn't complain. She hadn't seen his face in a while to know if he wondered about her behavior. Judging by the hands loosely clasped around her waist he either did or just wasn't feeling the same need.

She sighed. 'Need'. Maybe he was right about stopping with the lies. At least to herself. Yes, there had been some amount of need in that... kiss. A need for validation, a need for everything to be alright. A need for him to stay in her life despite his need for a favor being over. A need for him to not cast her aside.

"Are we friends still?" she asked.

He grunted. "Yeah."

Darkness had fallen all around the small bench a short way off the boardwalk. A little wind had picked up. It ruffled her hair. The sand was still giving off the day's warmth. Out of the corners of their eyes they could see small sparks of streetlights. In front of them it was only dark water, rolling in slowly.

A couple of young women with shoes in their hands shuffled past their backs. They giggled and sounded slightly intoxicated. Sharon burrowed closer to Andy's body, intoxicated for probably all different reasons. She could feel the sugar from her decadent late-night dessert rushing in her veins. At least she blamed the sugar.

"But... Shar," his rumbling voice started, "can we agree on an actual date?" He moved her hair aside, over her right shoulder. "Actual dating?"

She hummed. She felt too warm, too good to think. Dating. What was that? If, with Andy, it was something like all the outings they had done as a fake couple (she still couldn't believe how easily she had suggest being his fake girlfriend!), then it was a given. If dating was something else... Maybe she should prepare herself, maybe they should talk.

But not now. Now she was content to be wrapped around him, in the cooling early night, with seagulls for company.

"Ready to go?" he mumbled in her hair.

Sharon turned the question in her head. The proposition didn't feel attractive in the least. She would rather sit right here, on an uncomfortable bench getting sand all over her shoes, with the novel feeling of a man's warm body against her side.

"I hate to cut this short but someone put me on call from six a.m."

"You're on call," she mumbled in his shirt, "that doesn't mean you need to be at the PD by six."

He chuckled and squeezed her closer.

"Even if. I'm still parked on red," he whispered and it was her turn to chuckle.

"You're not."

Sharon wondered if before the night was out she should ask what the past ninety minutes or so meant for their relationship, for their friendship. She wanted to talk. She was sure he wanted to talk. But it was getting late. He was right about that. But if she was going to ask, she should do it now while she was still safely in his arms.

Instead, she took a deep drag of breath and pulled away. The small action felt like ending a beautiful dream you'd never get back. Andy only gave her an encouraging smile, stroked her arms. He leaned closer and she met him for a quick peck. With a tiny smile she let her hair cascade to hide the side of her face.

Andy loved the little hair cascade thing she did when she got flustered. Now wasn't the right time for it, so he touched two fingers under her chin and waited.

"Hey, what's that?"

She shrugged and tried to keep her face hidden. Hoping he wouldn't hear her, she breathed to the wind, "I like you."

"Well, not to sound like an asshole or anything but..." he said with no little humor which caused her to face him, "Yeah, I knew that. So, what's up?"

"Nothing," she smiled, "Absolutely nothing." Sharon took to her feet, brushed her thighs as if it would make a difference. "You have to remember I'm new at this."

He caught her hand and waited for her to look at him.

"We'll take it slow. Like this far."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't pull her hand away. Andy got up and they held hands while ambling up the boardwalk, past the little confectionary where earlier in the evening she had thought any of the past few hours would never happen. As if reading her thoughts, he squeezed her hand.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was drowned in the wake of a passing truck so he couldn't be entirely sure of the words.

"Huh? Come again?"

She bit her lip and bowed her head before answering.

"It's not important."

The demure smile taking over her face prompted him to ask for more clues.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

He scoffed.

"So your honest streak is that short. Good to know."

He walked her to his car. Instead of opening the door, he stopped in front of her and took both of her elbows in his hands. Her hands rose to rest on his forearms.

"So...?" he tried again.

"You know what this means?"

Now the radiant smile was directed at him and the small tilt of her head was beginning to cast an unfortunate undertone. He mirrored the tilt, trying to read her meaning. For some beats too long he might have gotten stuck in her twinkling eyes.

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Sorry? Again? She was sorry for what? And with a smile like that?

In Andy's book the thing was going awfully well right now. He had a fun day with his family and his friend. He had gotten a pretty good kiss. His fake girlfriend was not fake anymore, he didn't have to dance around his fam—

His stance straightened. The budding smirk died. Oh no. No, no, no, no. No, absolutely and categorically no. Just when he had convinced his family that there was absolutely nothing going on between them! He glanced at Sharon who was still giving him that soft smile.

"No. Absolutely not!" His hands left her and he took a step back to think straighter. "Your turn. I am not going to tell them anything, not ever again."

"You have to."

Biting back laughter she barely got the words out. She inched closer, he took another step back.

"No! You tell them. They like you better."

She stopped her approach, squinted and crossed her arms.

"And how is that the point? Everybody likes me better."

He failed to take the bait.

"Sharon, no. If I get a say in one single thing during this relationship, this is it. No." She smiled again, softly but so very dangerously. Her arms left the bunch and reached for him. His mind battled between the desire to feel her hands around his waist and making his point clear. "No," he tried. Her hands landed on the edges of his back pockets. "You're the one who wanted to fake being a fake girlfriend."

"You asked."

"You made me tell them the truth."

"So?"

"They won't believe me anyway," he said resigned.

"Well that's on them. At least you're being open and forthright."

His arms came to rest on her shoulders.

"There's no way I'm winning this, is there?"

"Not really, no." Sharon pressed her face to his chest. Maybe there was a kiss before she pulled back to meet his gaze. "Unless you want to go back to no dating."

For a moment he looked like that would the preferred option.

Sharon wasn't yet honest enough to admit the time he took to consider felt like a cage closing in on her heart. Now that she had born all the teasing, all the mixed emotions, all the thinking and rethinking, she wanted to try. She wanted to try, desperately.

"Well," he said reaching a decision, "at least it's not me telling Rusty."

He patted her shoulders and took a step back to open the door for her. She nodded and folded herself on the seat.

After tucking in her feet and fastening the seatbelt, she turned back to him. He was still holding the door open, casually leaning against the edge. There was a grin building on his lips. She waited, but he didn't say anything, he didn't do anything. Confused, she smiled. As the confusion grew, so did his grin.

Finally he straightened, preparing to slam the door.

"And it's definitely not me telling Emily."

Her smile died. Maybe it wasn't too late to reconsider?

A/N2: And if you wondered about the title, it's from a joke Andy plays on Sharon in ch24 of 'Lies' which is an adaptation of the marriage liturgy in Book of Common Prayer. That's the level of quality my humour rises to! (Apologies.)