T W O

A/N: I changed the rating on this one. For reasons. ;-) Sorry for not updating for such a long time! I promise to be better!

The pointed look at her watch was the last straw and made Andy explode before Provenza even had a chance to think of a scathing remark. She hardly flinched when he began to yell at her at the top of his voice, all of his frustrations having piled up inside him to be released at this precise moment in the form of a string of complaints directed at her smug, smooth face. God, sometimes he hated the way she was capable of emptying her features of any kind of emotion. He hated how all her expression retained was smugness, arrogance and just the faintest hint of a small, condescending smile. She had no right to be like this; he hadn't exactly expected her to turn into a quivering, anxious mess, clinging to him for comfort, but she had no right to be this together, fearless even. And annoyed. Annoyed by the way he and Provenza had been ordered to look into her case. Without intending it, she had separated them from their team which was busy solving a real major crime while they had to investigate Sharon's cut brakes on Pope's orders. Like everyone else, the Chief wasn't especially fond of Sharon, but when one of their own was targeted, measures had to be taken. If only to uphold the fragile equilibrium that was the force's inner workings.

"Can you try and be a little more cooperative, Raydor?" Her last name rolled off his lips as easily as her first ever had. He had no problem hating her in a professional context and a part of him was glad that he still could. It seemed that Captain Raydor and Sharon were two completely different people. One cold and calculating and infuriating, one hot and devoted and desirable. She crossed her arms and pursed her lips, the fabric of her black blazer hugging her curves and suddenly Andy had difficulties separating the two characters again. He shouldn't be thinking of what was underneath her work attire, shouldn't know every inch of Captain Raydor's skin by heart. Most of all, he shouldn't be so damn worried about her.

"I am being cooperative." Those little pauses while she spoke, the way she dragged out certain words had become almost alien to him. When they were alone, her voice was a soft, low drawl. Easy to listen to and intimate enough to relax. "I went through my files this morning and nothing stood out. That is why I brought them." She gestured calmly towards the two boxes on the table behind her. "I thought you might want to have a look, see whether I've missed something."

Andy's anger was cooling down now, leaving him with an emptiness whose cause he was unable to fathom. That woman was like a brick wall and it frustrated him to no end.

"Well, well," Provenza said, maybe sensing the deeper, more personal discord between the other two. "I'll have a look. And before you two rip each other to shreds: I'll call the garage and find out whether those brakes were really cut. Maybe it was all just an accident and we can call this off altogether."

He shot Andy a warning glare that seemed to be meant to remind him to stay professional. Having Provenza of all people upbraid him about lack of professional conduct felt scathing and Andy dropped his arms, feeling forsaken by everyone who was important to him.

"So you two cool it off while I'll have a look." Provenza turned towards the door, one of the boxes in both hands, then turned around with one of his famous tilts of the head. "And by the way, Captain, Andy is right. You should try and be a little less arrogant about this because if you hadn't been so damn lucky, your body would be shattered at the foot of some cliff by now and this would be a real major crime." He walked out and slammed the door behind him before Sharon could retaliate which left the two of them facing each other in the now empty conference room.

It was the first time they were on their own at work since their affair had started. They hadn't seen much of each other here, fortunately, over the past few months. Now, with Provenza absent, Flynn felt the full onslaught of his own emotions and tried to cling to the elusive rest of rationality that still prevailed. He honestly had no idea whether he wanted to protect her or yell at her again so, his shoulders slumping, he opened his palms in a gesture of defeat.

"I shouldn't have yelled at you. Sorry."

He hoped that she would lower her guard now, that her face would adopt the soft and familiar expression she wore when she was sitting on his sofa, legs pulled up under her body, long elegant fingers playing with a glass of red wine. Instead she turned around towards the second box that Provenza had left behind, straightening out the files without another word. Andy's anger flared up again almost instantly. He wasn't sure why, but he wanted to break down her barriers, see at least a little emotion seeping through. He wanted to comfort her and tell her that they would find the bastard who had tried to do this to her. He wanted to keep her safe and for her to know that he was the one who was willing and able to protect her. At the same time, he didn't want to ponder his own motives for wanting to do just that, worried that he would find something inside himself that he didn't want to be there. The woman confused him and he reacted to that confusion the only way he knew how.

His anger didn't seem to faze her at all but he could see the faintest hint of surprise on her unnaturally schooled features when he closed in on her and placed his hand on her hip. It filled him with a wild sense of triumph to see her just a little bit off-balance. Without ever having stated it explicitly, they both knew that touching was off-limits at work. Even using each other's first names was forbidden, but some time during this morning's frustrating dealings with Captain Raydor, Andy had pushed himself over the edge.

Her gaze hardened when he stepped even closer and slid his hand onto her back to be able to pull her into him if he chose to. She might be able to push him away on an emotional level, but when it came to the physical side, he was taller and stronger. Not that he would ever use that against her, but it felt good to tower over her like that, to have some advantage whatsoever.

"I want you. Now," he said, feeling foolish even while he was saying it. It was his immature reaction to her rejection on an emotional level. He wanted so badly to connect with her that he chose to deal with this on the only level he could ever be close to her.

"Not at the office." It almost sounded like a bark, but he could feel her muscles harden underneath his hands and he knew that this what not an uncomfortable kind of tension. He knew when to stop, but this was not the moment just yet. She would put him in his place if she really wanted to, but until then he wouldn't give up. He moved closer to her, conscious of the table right behind her. If she wanted to escape him, she would have to take a step aside and they both knew that he would let her go if she chose to evade him. But she remained still, both hands holding on to the edge of the table behind her. There was a moment of silence during which they just stared at each other then she reached out with one hand and ran it down his chest until it cam to rest on his belt buckle.

"Lock the door," she said hoarsely.

This was still Captain Raydor. The hard edge to her voice was there right along with the facial expression that allowed for nothing but spitefulness or teasing and he found it more arousing than he'd ever thought possible. Even though this had been an attempt to take control and she had turned it right around, dominating him once again, he didn't mind. When he returned from turning the key and making sure all the blinds were drawn, he pushed her skirt up immediately. They didn't have time for anything else. Right now Provenza probably thought that they were caught up in a shouting match, but he wouldn't be fooled forever and he would probably come back to break up their presumed conflict sooner or later. Andy unbuttoned her blazer and pulled her blouse out of her skirt to be able to run his hand across her bare stomach while his other was assisting hers with his belt. It felt weird to be standing here in his business clothes and the fact that she allowed him to do this at work should have alerted him right there and then that something was very wrong with her. In retrospect, he would realize that she had fooled him perfectly, that she was a lot more shaken than she let on, but in the heat of the moment he didn't consider it. He knew her too well to not be able to see through her facade, but his powerful anger that had turned into equally strong arousal prohibited him from thinking it through, from acknowledging the fact that nothing added up.

One of her legs around his torso, she rocked against him, steadying herself with one hand against the tabletop and one holding on to his on her hip, nails digging into his skin. He bent over her and thrust into her hard, eliciting a moan from her as he pulled out of her and thrust back in again a lot more forcefully than before. He changed his angle slightly, making her groan in pleasure every time he hit home. He wanted to look into her eyes but they were closed, making him miss the pure abandon he could usually see there.

His nerves were tingling. He knew that this was wrong. They shouldn't be doing it at the office, he shouldn't have her on a conference table, still fully dressed and moaning loudly. Anyone could overhear, anyone could try to enter the room and find the door locked, but it was too late to go back. His thrusts became faster and he knew that he was about to come although Sharon clearly wasn't there yet. He slowed down, stroking her breasts through the fabric of her clothes, massaging her thigh with his fingers, murmuring into her ear about how he'd always wanted to take her inside the office. He reached down and teased her while he slowly slid in and out of her and felt a sense of accomplishment and, curiously, relief when her body began to vibrate under his fingertips. He came first, still, having to hold on to the table and to her with the force of his orgasm, biting her neck hard to stifle his sounds of pleasure. She arched into him and came, too, holding on to his shoulders, shivering without making a sound at all.

The moment after was not as glorious as he had expected. He heard her ragged breath and felt her body shifting under his. She wanted to get away, he realized. She wasn't comfortable with this anymore as soon as the arousal had worn off. He drew back and ran a thumb down her cheek but she didn't lean into the touch.

"I need to clean up," she said, already tugging at her clothes and he stepped back to allow her to slide off the table. The door was unlocked with a forceful turn of her hand and she was out without looking back at him. He barely had enough time to readjust his clothes and catch his breath before Provenza sauntered into the room.

"Raydor looked pretty flustered there. Did you give her a hard time?"

Provenza, who usually picked up on anything pretty quickly, was absolutely clueless and his question - an unintended double entendre - made Andy laugh out loud. He could tell that his partner was irritated by his barking laughter, but somehow it dissolved something inside him. He answered as soon as he had finally managed to catch his breath.

"Yeah, I guess we're okay now. She's stubborn, you know."

Provenza snorted. "That and scared out of her mind."

"How can you tell?" Andy asked, truly surprised. Even he, who knew Provenza better than anyone, kept forgetting that he was a lot more perceptive than he let on.

"Come on, Andy. It was fairly obvious. No little waves, no superior smirks... She's barely holding it together. One could almost feel sorry for her. Anyway... care for some lunch?"

Andy was stunned. Provenza was right. In retrospect, the signs had been there and he hadn't even noticed. Wasn't he the one who was supposed to know her? Why had he let himself be fooled by her act?

"Yeah, lunch," he murmured. "Sounds good."

Coming over unannounced was off-limits. She'd never said as much; it was just the way it had come to be. One of them would call, mostly him out of sheer habit, and then they would meet up wherever was more convenient. Most of the time at his place, as he was the more devoted cook and she didn't like it when he disturbed the order in her kitchen. That was one of the reasons why Andy had no idea how exactly he'd wound up in front of her house, much less her apartment door. She stood in the doorway, half-empty glass of white wine in hand, her gaze questioning. Not expecting company, she was dressed in yoga pants and a white tank top that did not leave it a secret that she was not wearing a bra. She followed his gaze and wrapped her gray cardigan more tightly around her upper body, taking a sip of wine. He noticed that she wasn't wearing make-up and found that the absence of her usual dark eyeshadow and black kajal line made her look completely different. Not older, surprisingly, just softer. The same went for her casual outfit which she clearly didn't feel comfortable facing him in. He found her uneasiness amusing as she had no problem being naked around him. Why would she feel self-conscious wearing comfortable clothes? Not to mention tight ones that showed off her curves? He wasn't ever sure whether she was dressing up for him or not. He could tell with most women. Skirts were shorter, tops tighter when they wanted to impress. With Sharon it was impossible to tell whether she was wearing an elegant dress to make him notice the way it hugged her hips or whether she just found it tasteful. It bugged him as much as it fascinated him.

"Now..." She took a sip of her wine. "What are you doing here?"

The signs were subtle and this morning he had missed them. Now he didn't. Her hand was shaking very slightly and she wet her lips more often than usual, her free hand always returning to her already mussed-up hair. Sharon was nervous. Maybe even afraid.

"I just came by to update you on what Provenza and I found out after you walked out this morning," he said, skipping the part where he pretended to have been in the area because they both knew that – geographically - that was absolutely ridiculous.

"It's past midnight," she pointed out.

"You're still awake," he retorted. "but maybe I should have called ahead."

But then she would have probably not picked up the phone or even asked him not to come by which was exactly why he hadn't called.

"It's okay," she said a little more softly. "Come on in."

She stepped aside and allowed him to wander into her living-room where a couple of vanilla- scented candles were lit on the coffee table, right next to her service weapon and an almost empty bottle of wine.

"This is not a good combination," he pointed out, gesturing towards the display.

"Candles and wine?" she snapped. "Too romantic?"

Sullen little remarks like the one she'd just fired at him were uncharacteristic of her so he looked at her, eyebrows slightly raised. She took another sip of her wine, looking a little combative. The very slight flush in her cheeks indicated that she was on the verge of becoming tipsy. Strangely, it didn't worry him.

"Alcohol and guns," he growled. "And I am citing from my file here."

The faintest hint of a smile lit up her face as she sat down on the sofa. "That one time you were drunk on the job and accidentally discharged your weapon. You hit an already completely battered car but I still had to leave my sick five year old with my batty neighbor in the middle of the night, anyway."

"And how glad I was to see you," he mused, lowering himself down next to her. "Sorry for getting you out of bed back then."

She gave him the first genuine smile that evening and shrugged. "That was fifteen years ago. I guess it's okay now."

She was going through the glass of wine quickly, having almost finished it but he knew she didn't have an alcohol problem, so he was fully prepared to let her run with it if it made her feel better. She made no move to snuggle into him or show any other kind of affection but stared into the flickering flames of the candles for a moment instead.

"You were right," he repeated what Provenza had said this morning. "The brakes were cut. Looked like someone knew what they were doing. You were damn lucky that it happened where it happened. A mile on and you would have-"

She cut him off with sudden urgency. "I get it. Did you find any fingerprints?"

"Some on the hood. We'll have to run them against those of your mechanic. Other areas were wiped clean. You'll have to come down tomorrow for some more questions concerning where you park your car and who might have had access to it."

She nodded, staring into the distance for a moment. Then she set her now empty glass down and reached for the bottle.

"Did you have any problems with anyone recently?" Andy asked carefully. "I mean, does anyone come to mind who might hold an especially bad grudge?"

She looked at him and shook her head slowly. "I've been pondering that question for a while, believe me, but I've haven't come up with any names."

"Did you receive any other threats?"

She avoided his eyes and shrugged. "Maybe."

"Maybe?" he echoed incredulously. Sharon Raydor had a reputation for calling everything in even if the rulebook said to only in a distant footnote. Why would she hold back on something like this?

"Well, one of my tires was slashed last week. I thought it was just a prank."

He wondered why she hadn't told him. They had seen each other twice that week, after all. She was coming closer now and he felt her hot breath on his skin. Her mouth was the only way he'd been able to enjoy the taste of wine for a long time and he hungrily covered her lips with his, savoring every drop that still remained there. He could tell that she was slightly inebriated from the way she responded differently. She usually made him feel as if he had to convince her to deepen their kisses even though she often initiated them. Today she opened her mouth eagerly and pulled him closer at the same time. The smell of their earlier encounter was still lingering on her and he drank it in while taking advantage of the convenient fact that she wasn't wearing a bra, his hands roaming over her breasts.

They weren't in the habit of complimenting each other a lot, but today he wanted to say something to make her smile and to make up for his lack of empathy this morning. Usually he took comfort in the notion that there could be no way she didn't know how incredibly attractive he found every inch of her, but today he felt the need to make her hear it. He told her that she was beautiful in a low voice in the end, as if that would take the momentum away from it and she kissed him again in response, her hands on his neck. Before she could do anything else, he pulled back and caressed her cheek instead of trying to get her out of her clothes. She didn't say anything, didn't even look him in the eye but she didn't withdraw either.

In the beginning they'd never spend the night together. One of them had always gone home, now they sometimes did and sometimes didn't. She usually stayed over when it was late and left when it was still a reasonable hour; he found himself staying more often than not lately. Here on the couch there was no way to just fall asleep knowing that she wouldn't wake him to kick him out. She surprised him by getting up and reaching out a hand.

"Are you coming?" she asked.

"Course I am," he murmured into her temple and placed a soft, affectionate kiss there. Weirdly, kissing and touching after sex was okay while touching before always brought a little bit of awkwardness and was therefore usually avoided by both of them. For some reason he had broken that little rule today and he wasn't sure what she thought of it. He followed her into the bedroom, stripped to his boxers and t-shirt and slid under the covers while she padded into the bathroom. He liked the scent of her sheets that was all her plus something he had recently identified as her body lotion which smelled of vanilla laced with a muskier scent that he could not identify. She returned wearing her white top and panties and slid under the covers next to him, her leg smooth and cold against his whereas her cheek was still flushed with the effects of the wine when he pressed his against it. She tensed a little with surprise but didn't object when he wrapped an arm around her.

"I'm sorry for the way I acted this morning," he said, glad that he didn't have to look at her.

"What for?" she murmured, a little less than convincing.

"For not noticing that this is nagging at you." He knew that she couldn't deny it after tonight and so she just snorted.

"Maybe you should go." She turned around in his arms and looked at him, the veil back in her eyes. "I've had enough sex for today, so there's nothing to be gained."

Somehow he knew instinctively that she actually didn't want him to go. This was not a rejection but a test and he was determined to pass it with flying colors.

"So you're kicking me out now after I've made myself comfortable?" he asked. "I don't think so. Go to sleep."

She dropped her head onto the pillow and didn't object when he wrapped his arm back around her waist. He closed his eyes and felt the back of her forefinger lightly running down his cheek before she, too, drifted off to sleep.