A/N: So, here we are, five years later... Over the summer I was in need of some Shandy fluff and one thing let to another and I found myself wanting to read one of the storylines (ie. chapters) in this story. And then, quite accidentally, went back to fill in some gaps and... you know. I'm not sure if I'll be going anywhere with this story, but there are chapters. Shandy fluff, angst, family stuff, you know the drill. Prompts and other miscellaneous scenes. Awkward!Sharon x Goofball!Andy is my jam.

So, in case there is someone else in need of new Shandy fluff:

Down The Slippery Slope

Time got away from them. From the morning after their beach revelations work kept them too busy for any meaningful conversations. Sure there were stolen smiles, shared coffees and split lunches; tiny breathers for just the two of them but nothing to allow for deeper connections. In a way Sharon was glad: it made her feel like nothing had changed while her everything should have changed. It had been a long, long time since she had another to consider. Even the thought of it was exciting, scary and exhilarating.

However, it wasn't until Wednesday that the magnitude and the urgency of the change in her life hit. While leaving work, after solving their case, Andy had grabbed her by the arm, pulled her away from the elevator banks and asked her out with him on Saturday. Just him. No kids, no families, no ruses. A date. She was floored with his casual manner and straight-up question and wasn't eloquent when she accepted the invitation.

He had called her later that night to mock her 'uh, um, yeah, okay'.

And asked if she had finally told her kids.

She had not.

And she would have to.

Trouble was, that was not a discussion she was looking forward to start. What did you say anyways? 'Hey kids, guess what, mommy's dating'? What then? Come to think, did they even need to know? Rusty already knew she was going out with Andy, and the other two barely visited so... Sharon stopped her instinct to shirk from this one, simple, task. It would be so hypocritical to ask Andy to tell his family if she couldn't do the same.

Still, this was hard.

"Is something wrong?"

Rusty's question snapped Sharon out of her deep thoughts. It was already Friday evening and they were having a light dinner of gremolata salmon and greens. They still tried to have a homemade family dinner at least once a week despite their ridiculous schedules with her work's unpredictability and Rusty's classes and hobbies. This week's dinner nearly didn't happen since Sharon almost forgot to pick up the fish and their fridge looked like it belonged to someone who had emigrated without bothering to clean up. In fact, all of their kitchen was pretty much eaten up. In a pinch you might have found a tin of tuna and a handful of rice. At least some cabbage preserves from the previous millennium.

Sharon shook her head to return to the conversation. Dropping her fork on the plate she hummed and threw her hair behind her shoulders. "No, no, everything's fine."

Rusty shot her a look but kept shovelling his dinner with a shrug. He had gotten used to Sharon's weird moods and preoccupations. His foster mother could be weird, like more than Catholic weird. There was clearly something on her mind, but he knew that pushing wouldn't do anything. She would tell him if he needed to know.

He considered scooping another load of greens on his plate but that looked dangerously like an overdose on healthy so he refrained. He could always do a sandwich or two later, check the cupboards for any cookies Sharon might have hidden. And besides, fish was not his favourite thing so Sharon would know he would be hungry again later. Decision made, Rusty piled his dishes and made to leave the table.

"Andy asked me out."

He stopped at Sharon's rushed words. She was looking down at her plate.

"And?" Rusty sat back down.

"Date out." She fiddled with the cuffs of her sweater. "He asked me on a date."

"And?" He watched her nervous ticks.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose but kept quiet.

"You don't want to go? You want me to... fake an appendicitis?"

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Nothing like that."

"So you want to go?"

She nodded, slowly.

"I'll say it again," Rusty sighed, "And?"

"Would you... Do you mind?"

"Faking an appendicitis? No, of course not."

"Rusty!" she bit out in exasperation and rolled her eyes again. He missed the effect since she was already up and carrying her dishes to the kitchen.

"What!" he exclaimed after her, "I don't understand the question. You've been going out with the man for the past year and now I'm supposed to suddenly mind that?"

"Nine months."

"What?"

"I've gone out with him for nine months, not a year." Sharon turned and raised a palm to stop Rusty from speaking. "However, that is not the point." She took a deep breath, then blurted out, "Me and Andy, we are dating."

Silence reigned. The constant hum of the washing machine sped up into the crescendo of the spin cycle. Sharon felt as if her heart did the same.

Rusty cocked a brow.

"And?"

"And? What do you mean 'and'?"

"Like, what's changing?"

"Oh." Sharon picked on her nails for a few beats, then hummed. To Rusty it looked scaringly like she was blushing. "With overnights and all. In the future. Maybe."

Oh. Rusty watched her staring at the floor, her fingers loosely clasped together. His mother never asked if he minded. But this was Sharon, and she always surprised him with her sensitivity and consideration. Truth be told, he wasn't particularly interested in seeing Flynn in their space and with his hands on her but if there was one thing he had learned from Sharon it was the consideration for other people's feelings and wishes. So, he could be cool with this if that was what she wanted.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Her eyes shot up, surprised.

Rusty shrugged.

"It's you who has to put up with him. Listen to him hating on football, smelling his dirty socks and seeing him pick his nose."

Sharon rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Thank you, Rusty."

"No problem."

Sharon watched the boy's teasing grin. Yes, maybe this would be alright.

"There's just one thing," Sharon said after a few moments. "Don't say anything to the kids yet. I mean, I suppose, Andy's kids know but Ricky and Emily... I'd rather tell them myself."

"Hey, no problem," he stayed her with both palms. "I've had that third degree already and believe me, that's a pleasure I don't mind not repeating." Sharon chuckled at his startled look. "I mean, Sharon, your kids are horrible. Horri-ble."

"I know, honey," she said placing a palm on his shoulder, "I'll have a word about that with them. Again." She smiled at him, this time relaxed and sincere. "Thank you, Rusty."

He nodded and went to get a bag of cookies out of the cupboard while Sharon turned and started wiping the worktops. There, that wasn't totally horrible. Now that it was over, Sharon felt she should have known that Rusty would be fine with her plans. When all was said and done, Rusty was a nice kid. He was sensitive and considerate deep down. He had grown up so much, but there were still miles to go with his tendency to focus on himself and not stopping to listen to others. She was sure there would be a backlash to weather still but for now everything was alright.

Okay, this was okay, she mentally told her shaking hands. It was silly to panic like this. Silly, silly, silly!

She threw the dishcloth away and laughed quietly. This never happened before, but she never was in a situation quite like this before. Oh Andy, and the things he made her do!

Sharon checked the kitchen, took the washing out of the machine, checked the front door and turned off the lights. Then she padded towards her bedroom. It was still early, not quite nine, but after the week on little sleep she was all for retiring early anyway. And she kind of wanted to talk to Andy.

Picking up her phone, Sharon smiled at the screen. She had spent ten hours today with the man, yet he made her nervous and smiley and want to call him at the end of the day. She must be smitten. Unlocking the screen, she scrolled down her recent contacts. There were surprisingly many before Andy's name: it felt like she talked to him all the time. But that was in person. More and more she paired herself with him, be it a real task or just driving somewhere, so he had no need to call her on business. And yesterday was Andy's meeting night... Come to think of it, they didn't really talk on the phone that much anyway.

That startled her. Not counting the mocking he subjected her to on Wednesday evening, when did they last talk on the phone? Last week? No, the whole of last week was awkward with them. Two weeks? He only texted her about the plans at Nicole's. No, their last phone call was at least a month ago.

Suddenly the idea to call him sounded very very stupid. It was something they just didn't do. Maybe they shouldn't either; maybe he didn't want to chat aimlessly with her in the middle of the night.

Sharon bit her lip. The phone screen went dark while she debated making the call. She didn't want to seem clingy. She definitely didn't want to disturb him. What was she even going to say if she did call?

The phone almost took a flight when it started ringing in her hands.

It would have been hilariously cliche if the call had been from Andy. It wasn't. It was a work call to which her input was few monosyllabic answers. Annoyed at the interruption to her supposedly free evening she barely registered ending the call, scrolling to Andy's name on her log and hitting dial.

"Hi you," he answered on the third ring. He didn't sound aggrieved. That was a win.

"Hi," she replied thinly, not really knowing what to say. Maybe she should have considered this more?

"I thought you wanted to have an early night."

"I am. I did." Self-conscious Sharon took a deep breath, willed herself to relax and leaned back to rest against the bedhead. "I'm already in bed," she supplied.

"Well, well, well."

His suggestive words loosened her muscles. She chuckled, rolled her eyes at imagining his wagging eyebrows.

"Fully clothed. I guess on the bed, I should say."

"Oh," he feigned disappointment. "That's no way to call a guy."

Sharon heard some background noises that suggested he was settling down and getting comfortable. Or maybe not. Maybe he was just antsy for the conversation to end?

"I told Rusty," she blurted out.

He grunted.

Silence fell over the line.

Sharon licked her lips. She had expected more. Not a praise for being a good girl but something. Something more than a distracted grunt. Words she could work with, grunt not so much. Suddenly it felt stupid to have called him: she could have just as easily texted him about Rusty.

"Sharon?"

"Hm?"

"Everything alright?"

"Yea."

There was another bout of rustles on the line.

"And? What did the kid say?" Sharon thought she detected a slight tinge of frustration from his tone.

"'And?'," she hastily replied.

"Alright," he sighed, "bad wording. I meant, tell me more."

"'And?'," she repeated.

"Sharon," he groaned again.

"No, no, I mean he said 'and?'. Only 'and?'," Sharon chuckled. "Here I was, all nervous hoping he would respond positively and all I got was a throwaway 'and?'."

Andy laughed as well, "That's really all he had to say?"

"Well, he also told me it was on me to suffer through your disgusting habits and your hate for football."

"I don't hate football!" Sharon hummed knowingly. "I don't! I'm just saying it's a stupid sport and unfairly glorified for what it is: guys acting like assholes on and off the field. And don't get me started on —"

"Andy!" Sharon tried to hold in the laughter the best she could. "I think I have heard all of this before, and I have a feeling I will be hearing it again sooner than I am hoping."

"Maybe so, but you have to agree that—"

"I don't," she said with a smile, "I don't have to agree, but we can have that discussion too, later."

"Unbelievable," he muttered. They fell silent for a few moments before he asked, "So, you told the others yet?"

"No," she groaned. "I'll do it, but not today."

"Hey, no skin off my nose. I'm still voting for letting them figure it out."

Sharon gave a non-committal hum. "So you're not going to tell your family? About us?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm not saying I won't, but it's not a priority, you know?" He shifted his position. "It's not like you introduce every partner to all the family before the first date. We should go out some, see where that takes us and worry about all the rest later."

"I guess—"

"Besides, my family already thinks we're dating. Or were. Or they thought. Oh hell," he laughed. "The point is, they know you, they like you and they have been okay with the idea of us. In my books, that's a done deal." Before Sharon could interrupt, he threw in, "And I'll tell them at the first opportunity that presents itself."

She hummed her assent. While she didn't necessarily agree, that was the best she could expect.

"But," Andy continued, "I'd rather talk about tomorrow." When Sharon didn't reply quickly enough, he was forced to add, "Unless you have something more pressing...?"

"No, no, go ahead." That would have been be the perfect point to admit that she didn't have anything at all — pressing or not — to talk about, but she didn't. So instead, she tried to infuse her voice with some seductive notes as she asked, "What did you have in mind?"

"Well, I was thinking..." He paused, and when he continued, his voice had gone low and slow, "Dinner reservations at seven, pick you up at six, wear something nice."

"Nice?" Sharon asked, suddenly feeling the need to wet her lips.

"Nice as in dressy, something... You know. It's a classier dinner than our last," he said, and Sharon had no trouble imaging his grin. "Afterwards, I was thinking a movie, a play, a something. I'll be a gentleman and let you choose how the evening ends."