"I got your mail, Andrea. There's quite a bit here," Rusty said as he came into her office Wednesday morning. He was still trying to be extra helpful after her outburst Monday, and while she appreciated the gesture, it was starting to get a little overwhelming as well. "But I think I'd start by opening this envelope."

She frowned deeply as she held out her hand. The weight of the mail surprised her, since she hadn't forgotten to pick it up yesterday, and she let out a sigh as she watched Rusty tap on the small white envelope that was on top of the stack. There was nothing to call attention to it, really, though there wasn't a return address on it.

Setting the envelope aside, Andrea waved Rusty away as she started to go through everything that remained. It was the usual bits and bobs that came to her, and she dealt with all that she could before trashing a few solicitations and shredding some sensitive pieces of mail that needed no more eyes on it. Finally, all that remained was the mysterious envelope and then finishing up her opening argument for the case she was going to start tomorrow.

Knowing that she couldn't put off opening it for very long, she picked up her letter opener once more and slit the top of the envelope, pulling out a single sheet of paper. Unfolding it, she saw that it was typewritten, as if the sender wanted to conceal their identity. That thought sent a shiver down Andrea's spine, since they had dealt with whackos like this before, and it never ended well.

She could feel Rusty's eyes on her, but she tried to ignore it as she let her gaze run up and down the page, trying to see if any key words jumped out at her. When none did, she went back to the top of the letter and began to read, settling back in her chair as she did so.

Andrea,

I know that it must be a burden to have to deal with an intern like Rusty after everything he's done to make your life a living nightmare recently. I mean, we both know the legal hoops that you had to jump through in order to get FID to agree with the story that Lieutenant Provenza spun for them about it being his gun that shot Phillip Stroh.

I just have to wonder, do you sleep as poorly at night as I do, knowing that Rusty went against everything his mother stood for? He was supposed to be better than that, and yet, at the end of the day, he returned to his baser instincts, deciding to use too much force to take care of a problem that was being handled by others.

I do hope that all is well with you. I know that losing so many close friends in short span of time has probably done a number on your heart, but I also know that you're resilient, and can bounce back from these trials to be your strong self once more. I'll keep you in my prayers, and will also plan on taking the liberty of writing you every so often, to let you know that you are cared for, even if you don't know who I am. I'd rather keep it this way, for a while. I need to see how things play out. Until next time, may God shine His face down upon you.

There was no signature on the bottom of the page, nothing to indicate who had sent her such a personal missive, and she could feel her eyebrows furrow together as she tried to work out just who would be sending such a weird letter to her. "So, who's it from?"

Rusty's voice broke through her mental fog, and she looked over at him, still frowning deeply. "It's a personal matter," she replied shortly as she folded the page and stuffed it back into the envelope before thrusting it into her purse so that there was no way Rusty could read it unless he went snooping behind her back. "Just, focus on your task list, I have to get this written by tomorrow or look completely unprepared before the judge."

Rusty nodded before bending back over the files open in front of him, clearly not concentrating completely on them, since his eyes kept darting towards her every few seconds. Letting out a deep sigh, she tried to bring her focus back around to the task at hand, finally managing to finish off the complete opening statement. Standing up, Andrea stretched and cracked her back before heading towards the window and taking a look down at the street.

"I'm going to head down to Pulses for a coffee, before I edit this opening statement. Do you want me to bring you anything?" she asked, trying to sound conciliatory towards Rusty. After all, it wasn't entirely his fault that she was in a snappish mood, though he was a large part of it.

He looked up at her through his hair and shook his head a little. "I think I'm good. Gus said that he was going to meet me when I was finished here today, and I don't want to press my luck."

She gave him a sharp nod before going back over to her desk and grabbing her purse, slinging it over her shoulder as she left the office and headed towards the elevators. On the ride down, her thoughts turned once more towards the letter she had received. There had almost been a hint of Sharon in those words, though she knew the impossibility of that. Maybe she was reading her best friend into that letter because she still missed her.

The doors opened, and Andrea stepped out onto the ground floor, bumping into a few of her colleagues and giving halfhearted apologies as she brushed past them towards the coffee shop. There was a bit of a line, but she found she didn't mind the wait, since her preferred barista was working that morning. Finally, she stepped in front of Hermione, giving her a tired smile. "You look exhausted, Andrea! I take it there's a stressful case you're about to head into?"

As always, the light English accent soothed Andrea's nerves, and she gave the older woman a small nod as she wrote on the cup Andrea's standard order. "That, and I've been reminded of Sharon a lot recently. I had thought that I was moving on with things when this week just completely swept me under."

Hermione nodded sympathetically as she switched places with the young man manning the espresso machine. "You are going to hate this suggestion, but have you considered talking with a therapist?"

The gentle way Hermione said that told Andrea that she had her best interests at heart, and she shrugged a little. "I don't really have time for that? But I know that you mean the best. I just need to find a better balance."

Hermione nodded in sympathy with her as she came out from behind the kiosk, handing her the cup as she led Andrea over to an empty table. "And I know that you probably don't have time to sit and talk for too long, but I want you to sit here for about five minutes and just breathe slowly. Sometimes, we just need a friend to tell us that we have to take time just to be." Andrea nodded a little, giving Hermione a sheepish smile as she began to sip at her drink, glad that there was at least one person in her life who cared enough to make certain she was doing all right.