ELEVEN

Andy would have expected Anna Elliott's house to be dark and silent, but there was a light on in a room on the ground floor. His heart began to beat faster at that discovery. Maybe Sharon was there, maybe they would get her out quickly, maybe she and their baby would be alright. He mentally corrected himself. Maybe Sharon would be alright. Because Sharon was right: He had to avoid thinking of the baby as its own person, because that would only make what lay ahead for them more painful.

True to his role as observer, he was relegated to the sidelines, having to wait at the end of the driveway for the Chief and Provenza to check out the house. Before they even had a chance to discuss how exactly they would assess the situation, however, the front door opened and a young woman appeared, smiling nervously. She was in her early thirties, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie, glasses askew on her nose. Andy was taken aback. This was not what he had been expecting.

"Brenda Leigh Johnson, LAPD," the Chief introduced herself in her usual no-nonsense way. "Is this Anna Elliott's house?"

The young woman furrowed her brow. "Well, it used to be before we bought it."

Andy's heart dropped, because this meant that things wouldn't be as straightforward as they had hoped.

"And you are?" Provenza interjected.

"My name is Linda Ellert. I live here with my husband, but he is working a night shift at the hospital today."

The rest of the conversation seemed to wash over Flynn. While he got the gist of it, the details evaded him because panic was gradually building up inside him again. Linda Ellert had grown up next door. When Anna Elliott had died a year ago, she had jumped at the chance to buy a house in her old childhood neighborhood. She knew Christian Elliott from their childhood days and had bought the house from him, but hadn't seen him since. She was understandably puzzled by the presence of a group of plain clothes detectives in her front yard in the middle of the night, so Provenza and the Chief asked to be let inside to continue the conversation in a more private setting. Flynn found the door shut if not in his face, then at least firmly enough to let him know that he was to wait outside.

Having to admit to himself that this was probably going to be another dead-end was hard on Andy. Looking for a way to burn off some nervous energy, he began to aimlessly wander down the quiet residential street in a bid to clear his head. The night air was unusually crisp given the day's heat and there were old trees lining the streets, their leaves dry from the relentless California sun. He closed his eyes against their rustling, finding it calming somehow. Andy understood why Linda had not hesitated before she had bought the house. It was a nice neighborhood. Upscale, but not posh. A good place to start a family maybe.

He noticed that the wind was picking up and recognized it as the herald of an oncoming thunderstorm. Thunderstorms were never welcome in any active investigation as the rain tended to make everything from recovery to collection of evidence harder. He thought of Sharon, the way they had held hands and kissed at the café earlier that day. What if they were too late already? What if he would have to identify her body? An icy hand seemed to squeeze his heart. Why on earth had he wasted months on an inconsequential affair when he could have realized how much she meant to him so much sooner? He thought of all the nights he had let her leave his place instead of asking her to stay. His yearning for her, he noticed, was physical. He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and hold her, make sure she was safe.

"Hey, Flynn!" He turned around to find Provenza standing in the middle of the empty street. "Don't run off just yet."

Andy's shoulders dropped. "I was really hoping we would find her here."

Provenza nodded. "This also means that Elliott has been lying to the LAPD for a while. His mother is dead and yet he staged an elaborate ruse of her being sick."

"To what end?" Andy demanded. "To get Sharon to notice him?"

But then the real implications of that information began to sink in: Elliott had not suddenly lost it. Whatever his plan was had been carefully considered for a long time. He had manipulated his colleagues and Sharon alike. The question, however, remained: To what end?

"We did get one valuable piece of information, though," Provenza went on and Flynn felt his pulse quicken in response. "Anna remembered that the Elliott family owned a beach house when they were kids. Tao is trying to find out the address as we speak."

Flynn took a deep clean breath. There was hope, after all.

Suddenly, fat drops of rain began to fall, the metallic scent of the impending downpour heavy in the air. They dove for Provenza's car and once they were inside, the rain had picked up enough for it to hammer onto the roof of the car and make it an effort to carry on the conversation.

„This is so fucked-up," Andy muttered and Provenza's ensuing silence was enough of an answer.

The Chief's headlights came on the same moment that Provenza's phone buzzed.

"Tao just texted an address," Provenza announced. "I know that town. It's an hour's drive. Local police will probably be faster."

Andy knew it, too. It was a typical California vacation spot with secluded plots near the beach, a couple of souvenir shops and cafés and a lifeguard. He had once spent a day with his kids there. One of those good days between two bouts of drinking when it seemed like he might have turned his life around in time. He remembered the taste of ice-cream and the scent of sunscreen, Sandra laughing. Nicole had still been small enough to forgive him anything and she had squealed with laughter when he had played with her in the waves. His heart sank at the memory. Maybe this was the universe exacting revenge on him for being a shitty dad and an even worse husband back in the day. Maybe it had given him Sharon and the faint hope for a new little family with her just to take both away again in the cruelest way imaginable.

A few minutes later he police radio crackled and a female voice announced that they had arrived at the address. Andy's entire body tightened and despite the darkness and the rain, he thought he saw Provenza's knuckles go white where his fingers were wrapped around the steering wheel. Driving safely was no small feat in a downpour of these proportions and they both knew it would inevitably delay their arrival. He could only hope that small town police knew what they were doing.

"The house is dark," the female voice reported. "We will check it out." There was a voice in the background and Andy leaned in, unsuccessfully trying to discern what was being said. "We just saw movement in the house." He heard a click and imagined that they had drawn their weapons. The other voice could be heard in the background again. Were there only two of them?

Provenza drove with no regard for the speed limit or basic traffic rules. Sharon would have blown a gasket over this. The idea made Andy's heart lighter for just a second. She was such a stickler for the rules, it was almost cute. Sometimes he intentionally stepped out of line to have her upbraid him for it.

There was radio silence for a bit and he stared out of the window, willing for the voices to return, to tell them that everything was alright. Suddenly the female voice could be heard again, higher and louder this time, clearly on alert.

"Suspect is armed! Requesting back-up!" There was another commotion and a shout in the background, then the radio fell silent again.

"How much further is it?" he addressed Provenza, who was staring at the highway in front of him with intense concentration. The wipers were no match for the rain and visibility was very limited.

"A few more minutes, Flynn. Don't lose it now!" Provenza barked, his aggression probably on account of having to try hard not to slide off the street. The ground was hard due to the recent draught and the torrential rain had nowhere to go, water filling up the road.

"Officer down!" The female voice shouted and the other voice joined hers for the first time over his own radio. "Requesting an ambulance!"

Then there was silence again. Andy was a Catholic only in name, but at that he began to silently pray for the first time since his time as a school boy.

Andy was not above breaking the rules or defying orders, no matter how often or how intently he had been warned not to, so he ignored the fact that he was technically just an observer and dove out into the rain the second they had arrived despite Provenza's protestations. The charming little house stood on a secluded plot with a view of the beach, surrounded by a low white fence. Its white walls were currently dipped in blue by the flashing lights of the two police cruisers and the ambulance that were parked on the curb. The front lawn was unruly, clearly not having been mowed in a while and its wet grass had been flattened by countless footsteps, so Andy had to watch his step as he hurried across it.

At first, his heart seemed to explode with relief when he found Sharon sitting on the front steps of the house, but then his breath caught. She was barefoot and her jacket was gone. The top he had admired at the cafe earlier was now so soaked in blood that the fabric clung to her upper body. For a moment, he was sure that this meant that she was hurt or that she was about to lose their baby for she was doubled over slightly, both arms wrapped around her stomach. Ignoring the Chief's annoyed shout for him to stop, he crossed the front yard and knelt down in front of Sharon.

"Sweetheart, are you okay?" He was breathless with fear.

She looked up and he instantly recognized the look in her eyes as that of a recently traumatized person that had not yet caught up with reality. On closer inspection, he found a few bruises down her arms, but no visible bullet wounds. "Are you hurt?" he asked again, even more urgently this time.

Sharon's gaze cleared and he was relieved to find that she was glad to see him.

"Andy," she whispered and got up to practically stumble into his arms. "It's okay, it's not my blood."

Rain was drumming down on them, soaking them both in an instant, but neither of them cared. Her skin was cool from the night air, but there was a warmth to her still. He wanted to squeeze her as hard as he could but was, for once, mindful not to. Andy buried his nose in her hair, prepared to hold her for as long as she would allow. Curiously, it seemed that she had no intention of pulling back in a hurry. Instead she lowered her head onto his shoulder and held on to him, her body trembling. When they finally came apart, Andy took off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders to keep her warm. His team mates should have caught up by now and when he turned around, he found that they had all stopped at a respectful distance, some voluntarily, some obviously stopped by Provenza's outstretched arm. He was grateful that his partner was making sure that they had a moment of privacy before all hell would break loose. He needed to know what had happened, how she had gotten out, but found himself saying something completely different, something that seemed a lot more important.

"No pressure, Sharon, okay? But I love you. Oh God, do I love you."

Her cheeks were wet, but he couldn't tell whether it was tears or raindrops rolling down her face before she pulled him down to her level and kissed him gently. It was a chaste kiss, probably due to the fact that the entire Major Crimes team was watching, but Andy savored it nonetheless. Grateful for the disguise, he slipped his hand under his jacket and gently laid it on her side, part of his palm covering her stomach. In this moment, he was unable to keep up pretenses. Not for her sake and definitely not for his own.

"Is the baby alright, Sharon? Are you in pain?"

She looked up at him and smiled sadly, somehow perfectly aware of his inability to pretend that despite his efforts, he was attached as hell already to the small person inside her.

"I'm not in pain, Andy," she whispered, still desperate to make sure that no one would overhear. "I think everything is okay."

Her other hand joined his where it was still cradling her side and she leaned against him again, possibly for warmth or comfort, possibly because she needed the support. He pulled her as close as their position would allow and closed his eyes for a minute, dreading the moment when he would have to let her go again.

"Which part of observer was I not clear about?" Chief Johnson's voice finally interrupted them, the annoyance in her tone lacking its usual fervor. God knew, Andy had been at the receiving end of far worse from her. It seemed clear that even she was relieved that they had found Sharon unharmed. Sharon straightened up, but her heart was not in it. Maybe it was all still too fresh or maybe her energy was leaving her now that the adrenaline was ebbing away, but she continued to lean heavily into Andy.

"Are you okay, Captain?" the Chief inquired, her hand awkwardly brushing the sleeve of Andy's jacket around Sharon's shoulders.

Sharon nodded slowly, still looking dazed.

"Get her out of the rain, Lieutenant, will you?" The last of Chief Johnson's sentence was swallowed by the noise of the ambulance pulling away from the curb, sirens washed out by the noise of the rain. Andy helped Sharon onto the porch and watched her sit down in one of the lawn chairs, gratefully accepting the water bottle Sanchez had brought her. She took a sip and then another, then turned a shade paler and took deep breaths, clearly fighting nausea for a minute.

"The officer on scene told me that it was Elliott in that ambulance. Apparently, he is critical. Can you tell me what happened?"

Sharon's voice sounded completely different from her usual modulated and confident tones. It was thin and the Chief had to lean in to hear her over all the different noises around them.

"I shot him. I shot Sergeant Elliott." Her voice cracked. The young officer had been her protege for years and Andy understood how hard it had to be for her. "When he was down, I tried to stop the bleeding, but I think I hit an artery in his thigh, there was just so much blood. Sorry." She turned away and wiped her cheek then took a deep breath. "I don't know whether he is going to make it."

She was clearly distressed, soaking wet and covered in blood, but her FID training kicked in nonetheless.

"I am afraid you will need someone from FID to investigate me," she said softly. "Lieutenant Giles or Lieutenant Higgins would be good choices. They've been working rather independently from me, so I think they would be the least biased."

She looked so stricken at the prospect of an FID investigation with her in the middle of it that Andy longed to take her in his arms again. He knew, however, that neither Sharon nor the Chief would tolerate that. The Chief was not going to let another indiscretion happen without consequence and Sharon was clearly trying to tackle the situation by being as professional as possible.

"I should have known you would say that. Fighting us for jurisdiction even now," the Chief said dryly, but it was clearly not meant as an affront. Instead, it seemed, it was the Chief's unique way of trying to comfort the other woman. Andy could see that Sharon understood, too, if her little smile was any indication.

"What happened?" the Chief continued, apparently a little embarrassed by her own kindness towards the woman she liked to furiously refer to as "that woman".

"Sergeant Elliott was holding me here and when the police arrived outside, he pulled a gun on me, threatening them to shoot me if they didn't back off. When they came in anyway, he suddenly shoved me aside and began firing at them, so I dove to disarm him and pulled his arm down. He must have accidentally pulled the trigger and a second later he was down."

So technically, she had tried to protect the two other police officers and Elliott had accidentally shot himself, Andy concluded with some relief. That FID investigation would be more of a formality than anything else under those circumstances. For a second, he debated going over to the two local police officers who were on the lawn talking to Tao and giving them a piece of his mind on their tactics (or lack thereof). They could have gotten Sharon killed.

The Chief nodded. "You need to tell me exactly what happened and how you got here."

At that, Andy cleared his throat. "Chief, if I may make a suggestion? Maybe we can let the Captain get into some dry clothes and let her rest for a minute or two before we continue?"

He had expected Sharon to be furious at the suggestion, but she remained silent as she looked out into the night, still a little removed from everything. Neighbors had gathered on the street, curiosity winning over the comforts of their warm and dry homes. The lights of the cruisers were still flashing, drops of blood on the pavement near where the ambulance had been waiting in the process of being washed away by the rain. Sharon was shivering and Andy kept wondering about the bruises and about what had broken her fall when Elliott had shoved her. He would have been more comfortable with her being checked out in an ER before being questioned by the Chief and God knew who else, but he did not dare make that suggestion, fearing that she might perceive him as patronizing. He would have to trust her that she was really okay.

The Chief straightened up and craned her neck. She, too, had gotten wet, even though she had taken the time to bring an umbrella from the car. While it was clear that she wanted the truth out sooner rather than later, she seemed to understand that she couldn't force the recently traumatized victim of a kidnapping to sit in the rain for hours and answer questions. She knew she would have a better chance of hearing the whole story after having made her more comfortable and given her a minute to gather her bearings.

"Alright then," she said. "You're driving back with Flynn and Provenza, Captain. I'll tell the others to stay here to process the scene." She raised her chin at Sharon when the other woman drew a breath to interject. "And I will have them call your lieutenants to join us at the PAB."

Sharon nodded. "Thank you, Chief."

Chief Johnson gave a clipped smile and hurried off under her umbrella, leaving Sharon and Andy on the porch. He reached out a hand and helped her to her feet, resisting the urge to pull her close again. To his surprise, she didn't let go of his hand, but held it all the way to Provenza's car, hers cold but firm in his. Provenza met them there, clearly also affected by the situation, but intent on not showing too much sympathy.

"Great, now I have two soaking wet idiots in my car. And there is blood, too!" He threw up his hands. "You better go sit in the back together, so you won't get that all over my passenger seat. There is a blanket in the boot. Maybe you can use that to protect my poor backseat."

To Andy's eternal surprise, Sharon smiled gratefully at Provenza. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

There was nary a rule Andy Flynn had not broken during his many years with the LAPD, but hanging out in the women's locker room was a novelty even for him. At this hour, of course, it was completely deserted, but he felt like an intruder nonetheless. In fact, the situation reminded him of a half-forgotten prank in high school that had involved the girl he fancied and a bottle of shampoo. Uncomfortable, he sat down on one of the wooden benches and looked around the room, slightly disappointed that it looked basically the same as the men's locker room, just with lesser lockers. Sharon's, close to the door, was the only one that was open, having contained her toiletries and towels as well as a clean set of gym clothes. Andy remembered those well, because Sharon religiously ran on the treadmill four times a week and he habitually made sure to be present once and again to watch her high ponytail bob up and down as well as others assets that were best viewed from the treadmill behind hers.

The shower stopped and he tensed. After what had happened and the looks of her when they had arrived, he wasn't altogether sure it was wise to leave her out of his sight for any prolonged amount of time. To his relief, she walked out of the shower room a moment later, hair in a towel and another one wrapped around her body. He rose from his seat even though, next to the politeness his grandma had drummed into him, there was not particular reason for it. Sharon's pale cheeks were flushed from the shower. Judging from the time she had spent in there and the steam billowing behind her, it had been a hot and long one. Andy himself had attempted to dry his own clothes with a hairdryer, felt stupid and then had decided he didn't care. When she saw him waiting for her, she gave him a small smile.

"I should write you up for loitering in the women's locker room," she said, her voice still hoarse but humorous.

He shrugged. "I had to make sure you would not faint in the shower after today's shit show."

The smile she returned him looked a little pained. She walked over to her locker and eyed the heap of wet clothes on the floor.

"I'm sorry if all that blood ruined your jacket," she said, bending over to pick it up. Andy waved her off.

"As long as it is not your blood, you can ruin my jacket any time."

She reached into the inside pocket and retrieved the small rectangle, then handed it to him. "I didn't know you had hung on to this."

"Did you expect me to throw it away?" he asked her even though he knew perfectly well that this had been her exact suggestion. She didn't answer him and just turned her back, dropping the towel to get dressed. Andy leaned back against the wall of lockers and enjoyed the view. Sharon slipped into a pair of black workout leggings and a light dark green sweatshirt over tank top. Grimacing, she put on her trainers.

"Not a good outfit for the workplace," she concluded in dismay. "And I forgot to bring clean socks."

"I would disagree," Andy said. "Okay, well, maybe it doesn't go too well with the Darth Raydor vibe."

She chuckled and he was glad to see her face light up like that after her having been so closed down earlier. When she had dried her hair and was eyeing herself critically in the mirror, he stepped behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror and he waited for her approval before he slipped both of his arms around her and rested his chin on her head.

"I'm so glad to have you back," he said, his voice suddenly unsteady as well. "I don't know what I would have done had I lost you."

She turned around in his arms and looked up at him, her gaze suddenly open and vulnerable. It seemed that she, too, had something to get off her chest. "All I could think of when he had me at gunpoint was our baby." Tears were forming in her eyes. "I tried to push the thought away, but it kept coming back. What do we do, Andy?" she whispered. "What do we do?"

Her held her closer, running his hand up and down her back in a soothing motion. "We go up and you give your statement to Chief Johnson and then we go home, get some sleep and I will make you paninis for breakfast."

The vibrations of her body changed at that, signaling a break from the tears to allow for some much-needed laughter.

"Is food your solution to everything, Andy?" She drew away from him and wiped the tears from her cheek.

Andy shrugged. „Almost everything."