THREE
When he woke, she was gone.
The curtains in her bedroom weren't drawn and the orange light of the rising sun made his surroundings look as if they had been dipped into honey. It was a strange light that seemed prone to producing mirages. As if everything that happened under such a sun could easily be a figment of his imagination. Andy got out of bed, glad to leave its warmth behind even despite the relative coolness of the summer morning. There was no smell of coffee in the hallway and the bathroom door stood wide open, the shower dry and empty. Andy put on his shirt before he went in search of her.
It was just after six in the morning, but Sharon was not engaged in her morningly routine at all. Instead he found her on her balcony, the French windows wide open, looking over at the hills some of which still lay in shadow. In the morning light, her pale skin had taken on an unfamiliar glow and he followed the expanse of flesh that was her pale slim leg that was visible under the short silk bathrobe she had thrown on haphazardly, the gap between its lapels exposing the swell of her cleavage.
She looked up at him when she heard him approach and he gave her a lopsided grin, not sure what to say when he saw the look in her eyes. What she had so masterfully hidden from him at work the previous day was now all in the open. There was a haunted look in her eyes, something pulling at the skin around her eyes. She looked vulnerable half naked like that. He'd seen a lot of her, but not this. She was not Captain Raydor or his delightful evening companion right now, but she was just as beautiful as either of them.
He sat on the side of her deck chair and reached for her tousled hair. It was naturally straight but did sometimes break into wild curls during the night. He liked how it felt then, soft and yet stubborn as it spilled through his fingers, stubborn and untamed. He buried his hand in her hair and pulled it just a little, knowing that the effect would be that of a scalp massage rather than painful. She hummed as he did it, steadying herself by putting her hand on his upper arm.
She looked so enticing there with hooded eyes and wild hair, barely dressed in a world that was coming alive again after having lain dormant for the night. He couldn't help it and somehow didn't want to and so he leaned in to kiss her. Sharon shifted, her leg coming around him, her whole body suddenly flush to his so she was almost in his lap. His hand found the loose knot she had made in her silk belt and undid it easily, his hand sliding over her hip to her back and under the fabric of her top. Sharon arched into his touch, grazing his lip with her teeth as she slipped her hands under his shirt and ran them across his chest.
Her hands were cold as so was the rest of her skin. She had probably been outside for a while, he understood now, waiting for the sunrise to chase the night's shadows away. Maybe she hadn't slept at all. He pulled her fully into his lap, eager to warm her up, savoring the taste of her. Her top soon joined her robe on the floor next to them, but they didn't bother with his shirt, leaving it open and unbuttoned but still on him as neither of them had enough patience to take it off properly.
She was different than usual. Passionate, but a little frantic, the sounds she made less sweet, her body pressed against his, seeking physical closeness.
When they were done, he finally took his shirt off and wrapped it around her naked body before he brought her back to his chest. He could hear birds and the distant humming of the beginning of early morning traffic. Despite the reality of what was happening, he felt at peace with his chin resting against Sharon's hair, feeling her breasts press against his chest, skin now warm and flushed and feeling much less like marble than before.
"Sharon," he murmured, shocked by the sound of his voice because he hadn't intended to say anything. She responded with a hum, a sign of acknowledgment and maybe contentment, but not offering any more.
He found that he wanted to tell her something, but what he was not sure. Just like the previous evening, he wanted to say something nice, something that made her feel good about herself, but everything he could come up with seemed to fall flat. A stray thought hit him, that he would like for this to happen more often. Not sex on her balcony as such, but seeing her in the morning and feeling her like this. Maybe it was not even the sex or the morning. Maybe it was just the feeling of her body against his, so different, so close.
That was it.
He wanted to be closer to her, he realized while he said nothing at all. He wanted to hold her in his arms as he watched a Dodgers game on the couch, it randomly occurred to him. And if his brain hadn't been so numbed with the aftermath of his orgasm, he would have understood the implications of that thought.
"Welcome back, y'all. Lieutenant Flynn, may I see you in my office please?" Marching through the Murder Room in a flowery skirt and pink t-shirt, kitten heels clicking rapidly, Assistant Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson didn't miss a beat. Andy shrugged, a little confused that she would call him in by himself since Provenza was back from lunch as well. If she wanted an update, it would have been best to speak to both of them together. Burying his hands in his pockets, he followed her in. The prints on the hood of Sharon's car had been partials and unidentifiable. It had been a far cry in the first place as the important areas had been wiped down and any passer-by could have touched the hood of her car for no apparent reason, leaving the prints that remained. That left the boxes of meticulously kept files on people who hated her guts. Andy felt antsy. He wanted to chase down a suspect and yell at him, not shift through paperwork endlessly and encounter Sharon's signature all of the time.
"Lieutenant Flynn, have a seat." The Chief's Georgian accent always got a little stronger when she was upset or annoyed and her vowels were going crazy today. He quickly ran through a mental list of things that he might have done to have pissed her off but couldn't come up with anything that would have warranted a dressing down in her office.
She dropped a brown envelope on her desk in front of him and retreated backwards from it as if it contained poison. Andy looked up and gave her a quizzical look, causing her to purse her lips and give him that determined stare that made her eyes look almost black.
"Go ahead, Lieutenant, open it."
He reached out tentatively, sensing that whatever was inside the envelope would not be good. Photos, he concluded from the feeling of the paper before he had a chance to pull them out. When he saw what was on them, his breath caught in his throat.
There, glossy and sharp as reality, blown up to the size of a regular magazine, was a picture of him and Sharon on her balcony, her in the deck chair, he perched on its side, looking at each other. The light made the picture look as if they had posed for it, giving it an ethereal quality. He knew what was to come after this first, innocent shot and maybe that was why he wasn't it a hurry to get to the next picture. Or maybe it was the look of them. The shot had been taken from across the balcony, probably from further and they were facing each other so they were both in profile. The way their bodies were angled, however, oddly fascinated him. He should probably have been outraged or even frightened by the idea that someone was watching and intruding on their privacy, but he just felt numb. His hand was on Sharon's leg and he could remember the cool, smooth skin against his palm.
Chief Johnson cleared her throat so he carefully put the picture aside and braced himself for the next. The memory of that morning's events was fresh enough in his mind to be unsurprised at the contents of the pictures. Sharon had her back to the camera the entire time for which he was grateful as her long hair along with his hands covered up most of her naked back. His face, however, was recognizable, even though it was partly buried in her shoulder in some shots. As little as could actually be seen from the angle of the pictures, it was clear as day from looking at them that they were having sex.
When he finally looked up at Chief Johnson, she had adopted an almost pitying look.
"They were sent to Chief Pope this morning."
A small sound of agony escaped Andy at the idea.
"Has anyone else seen them?" he asked. He was a guy and he was well-liked among the LAPD; people would tease him mildly about bedding the ice queen from FID if they wouldn't even come straight up to him to congratulate him on his conquest. Sharon was a completely different story. As closely as she guarded her life away from work, people were desperate for a little insight into her private affairs. And they didn't like her, which meant that they would take full advantage of something as embarrassing as these pictures.
"Not that I know of. Will is Captain Raydor's immediate superior, so there is no other department head it would have to be run across."
Andy exhaled. This wasn't too bad. Pope and the Chief were well-acquainted with a little office romance and at least neither Andy nor Sharon were cheating on a spouse. Well, Sharon technically was, but then her lousy excuse of a husband had made off to Vegas years ago. If they could contain these images, the impact wouldn't be too great.
"I don't think I have to ask you whether you have a thing going on with Captain Raydor." The Chief sounded mildly amused now and Andy fully understood the sentiment, knowing that the two of them were not exactly what people would think of as a perfect match.
"No offense, Chief," he settled for his usual cocky attitude. "but her legs are even better than yours."
Chief Johnson cocked her head in that challenging way of hers. "Thank you, Lieutenant Flynn," she purred. "How long has this been going on, though?"
He buried his hands back in his trouser pockets. "About six months," he admitted with no leverage left at all. After those pictures, denying the obvious would have been nothing short of stupid.
"Well, looks like love to me," the Chief pointed out, earning a snort from Andy, but nothing more. He had no intentions of discussing the nature of his relationship (or non-relationship) with his boss.
"You should have let me know when I assigned you and Provenza to her case," she admonished. "You can't be objective where your girlfriend is concerned."
"Hey, hey, before you jump to conclusions: She is not my girlfriend, okay?" he said heatedly even though the picture in his hand seemed to belie what he was saying even while he was saying it.
"She'd better not be," Provenza's voice sounded from the door and Andy whirled around, finding him with Sharon in tow whose face was unreadable. "I got the Captain for you just like you asked, Chief." He gave a mock salute but froze when he laid eyes on the pictures.
"Sonofa..." he began, interrupted by Sharon's gasp. Her face was ashen as she grabbed the pictures and Andy could tell that the same thoughts about their fellow officers' ridicule of her at the sight of these pictures that he had had earlier were now going through her head.
"Oh my God." Her murmur didn't even exactly sound like words, more like a strangled gasp. "Who has seen these?"
"Just the people in this room and Chief Pope," Andy hurried to assure her.
"They came with a note," Chief Johnson added. He knew that she didn't like Sharon very much, but even she seemed to feel for her a little. She held up an evidence bag and read from the typed note inside. "She is one hell of a ride, that Captain Raydor. It's almost a pity to cut her brakes."
"This was the work of her attacker!" Provenza pointed out what they all knew. There was a beat of silence, the noises in the Murder Room a distant rumble that did not quite reach them inside the sealed-off cocoon of Chief Johnson's office. The Chief dropped the note on to her desk and adjusted her glasses.
"This is getting ugly which is why Chief Pope assigned the whole team to the case effective immediately."
Sharon's head snapped up and her posture changed. From where she had been hugging herself before, she was now assuming a combative stance.
"Why is that? Why would major crimes have to work on a stalking case?" Andy understood where she was coming from. She was trying to keep the circle of people who had seen the photos as small as possible. The last thing she wanted was for one of those images to be pinned to their murder board for everyone to see. She wasn't looking at him, he realized with an unexpected twinge of pain in his chest. She hadn't looked at him a single time ever since she had come in. The forlorn feeling gave way to anger when he realized what was really going on.
"Oh, wait a minute! The LAPD can spare only two officers when a vile attempt is made on an officer's life, but as soon as photos surface that could stir up trouble with the press or put the department into a bad light, the most elite division is ready to roll out?"
He knew that there was no point in arguing. The decision had been made and, truthfully, the more people they had on Sharon's case, the more likely it was that they would find whomever was threatening her before something could happen to her. He glanced over at her and found her face impassive, her agitation bubbling deeply below the surface. She was a master of keeping a lid on her emotions and the only thing that gave her away was the tense setting of her shoulders.
"Lieutenant Flynn," the Chief said almost gently. "I am not responsible for department policy. I get that you are worried about the Captain and I understand."
Despite the gravity of the situation, Provenza snorted loudly, craning his neck to get a better look at the picture on top of the pile.
"Oh, come on, Lieutenant!" The Chief slid a folder over the images to block his view. "We'll keep these under wraps until it becomes necessary to let someone else know about them," she said matter-of-factly, making Sharon's shoulders sink a little. "And you, Lieutenant Flynn, need to cool it off. You are not entirely objective, so I guess it would be best if you stepped back a little."
Andy opened his mouth to protest but she raised her hand. "I am not taking you off the case, Andy." There was a definite warning in her tone, expressed through the pitch of her voice as well as the usage of his first name. "I am not comfortable with the Captain being on her own right now, so I hereby appoint you as her personal security detail."
Provenza groaned and Sharon gasped for air.
"Security detail? Chief, I have a job to do!" she protested.
"No, right now you have not. You have been pulled off duty, Captain, for your own protection."
Sharon folded her arms in front of her chest, her stance now unmistakably combative. "Chief, with all due respect, I know that most people don't think that my job is particularly important, but I have a few meetings that I will have to at least reschedule. There are also some time-sensitive tasks that I will need to delegate."
The Chief seemed a little pissed-off with the Captain's insistence, so she rolled her eyes and rounded her desk. "Then, by all means, Captain, take your personal security detail, go downstairs and take care of business. After that, I want you here in my murder room, going through files with Lieutenant Flynn and available for questioning at all times."
Sharon looked mutinous for a moment but then nodded. "Of course, Chief."
Chief Johnson was definitely enjoying turning the rules against the Captain and Sharon had noticed it. Andy quickly opened the door for her, stepping aside to let her go first. Sharon didn't look at him when she walked out. Instead, he earned a hateful stare from Provenza.
"Really?" he muttered under his breath as they walked out behind Sharon. "The Wicked Witch? Of all people? Ye Gods, that's disgusting."
"You heard me say that she is not my girlfriend!" Andy hissed at him, mildly surprised at his own outburst. Of course she wasn't his girlfriend, but somehow saying it didn't feel as good as he had expected it to. And agreeing that she was a witch didn't come as easily to him as it has used to. Actually, he found himself unable to say anything at all even though she was well out of earshot right now.
"I did hear you alright!" Provenza waved a finger in front of his partner's face. "And so did she. Should have seen her face when you insisted."
"What do you mean?" Andy wasn't in the mood for Provenza's ominous remarks.
"Well, she didn't like it, idiot. I know that woman. When she wants something, she gets it and I am sure she won't have a problem at all with drawing you in and making you her personal idiot."
"Don't be an asshole, Provenza!" Andy turned away from him and clenched his fists. "Don't concern yourself with my non-existent love life. I'm just having sex with her. All we should do is find the dirtbag who's trying to harm her."
Provenza gave him a condescending smile. "That's our job, Flynn. Yours is to be her personal little watchdog. Move along now, she's probably already halfway on her way to IA and we don't want her to bump her pretty head."
With a growl and an agitated stare, Andy marched off.