EIGHTEEN

Sharon had finally caved in and made a single concession to the fact that she was sleep-deprived, perpetually nauseous and overall a little too stressed for her own good: While she was in her usual heels and a slim-fitting pair of black slacks, she was wearing a light cashmere sweater instead of one of her usual blazers with it. The creme tone and soft, sheer fabric were a far cry from her usual attire and even Provenza had snuck a look or two, Andy had noticed. The AC was on full blast and Andy could tell she was cold. He had had to stop the car on their way over twice for her to calm her stomach (or empty it, he didn't know, because she had vanished far enough into the darkness to make him really nervous both times), so he knew that she was nearing the end of what she could take physically.

"Hey," he said softly, tapping her on the shoulder when he returned from the break room with a coffee for himself and a cup of herbal tea for her that she hadn't asked for. She smiled up at him and brushed his hand for the shortest of moments, which was more than she had done around these parts ever before.

"That's very kind of you. Thank you, Andy."

"Hey, anything to help. Let me know if you get hungry or something, okay?"

They smiled at each other for a moment before her face very suddenly lost all of its color and she jerked out of her seat to practically run for the door.

Provenza wandered over from his desk and stood next to Andy. "You should have brought me coffee the way you used to instead of scaring her off with…" He sniffed the abandoned paper cup and wrinkled his nose. "Lavender tea? Ew."

Flynn shrugged, uncomfortable. "It was the only tea we had. I think it's left over from the time the Chief was on that weird diet."

Provenza shuddered. "Ye Gods, don't remind me of that. I've never seen her in such a bad mood and that is saying something."

They smirked at each other in mutual commiseration over that very bad week and it felt good to talk to his best friend like a normal person again for a change. Andy looked around, but nobody seemed to be paying them any attention. Everyone who was not still looking at where Sharon had disappeared into the hallway in utter confusion was bent over a desk or talking into a phone. They were in the middle of a case, after all.

"Listen, Provenza. I know you are not a fan of Sharon's, but can you please stop alluding to our little situation in front of other people? She is really nervous about people finding out and you're not helping."

Provenza snorted and crossed his arms. "It's all in good fun, Flynn. I'm including her."

Andy almost heaved a sigh of irritation when it finally hit him. Now that he thought about it, it figured: Provenza's and his friendship was based on the relentless insulting of the other. It was normal for them to needle each other whereever possible and, more so for Provenza than for Flynn, it was a means of showing affection. The team always grew worried when the two of them stopped bickering for a day, because that meant that they were not talking to each other due to some disagreement or other. He rolled his eyes dramatically.

"I get it, okay? Thank you for… insulting her to show her that you care." He felt truly stupid for saying that, but Provenza seemed to understand, because he looked pleased. "But please could you keep your mouth shut about that baby please? You couldn't be more obvious if you tried. Hell, even the Chief knows now."

"Oh, come on!" Provenza protested, throwing his hands up. "Do you honestly think the Chief knows because of one of my comments?"

"Um, yeah?" Now it was Flynn's turn to gesture helplessly. They probably looked like two overeager actors in a silent movie. "The comment about her getting really big in a few months?"

"I wasn't going to tell you because you were being so paranoid, but she was actually the one who tipped me off. She's known for a while I think. I have no idea how women do that, but they always know first."

Flynn felt better since it was not his fault anymore for telling Provenza whose behavior, in turn, had told the Chief, but at the same time it worried him on a whole new level. Before he could make any further inquiries, Sharon returned, one hand covering her mouth and nose.

"Lieutenant, would you please…" She gestured towards her abandoned cup and shuddered. Provenza grabbed the offending item and carried it to the other end of the room where he left it on Tao's desk, then came back.

"Thank you," Sharon breathed, slowly, but still cautiously lowering her hand and taking small, measured breaths.

"Lavender," she said with as much disgust as one could muster for an innocent herb. "God, of all the teas in the world."

Andy felt guilty even though he had no idea how he could have possibly known that lavender would cause such a violent reaction.

"Here, have the very last orange soda from the break room," Provenza said and handed her an unopened can. Sharon looked at him suspiciously, but tried a small smile in response regardless.

"Thank you," she said carefully.

"Oh you're welcome," Provenza said, then walked back towards his desk without another word. Sharon looked at Andy with the unopened can in her hand and gave him a funny look.

"What was that? Why is he being so nice to me?"

"He is being less of an idiot than usual, that's why," Andy informed her. "Sorry about the tea. Are you feeling better?"

A look of horror crossed Sharon's face at the mention of the tea but she shrugged. "I don't think there is anything left to throw up, so that's good." She was keeping her tone light, but he could tell that it was putting a strain on her. She should have been asleep at home, not back at the LAPD in the middle of the night. For the first time, he wished his epiphany could have waited until morning. He stood next to where she was leaning against his desk, sipping the orange soda as carefully as if she was afraid that Provenza had poisoned it.

"I don't want to be overbearing, but please let me know if it becomes too much, okay? This can't be good for you or for, you know." He rotated his hand.

She smiled sadly at him. "Let's hope this will all be over soon." Some color was returning to her cheeks as she was sipping the sugary drink and Andy couldn't quite believe that Provenza had managed to save the day once again. He really could be a good friend when he put his mind to it.

"Finally!" Tao groaned at the other end of the room and everyone began to flock towards him to see what the breakthrough was. Because that much was clear from the look on the lieutenant's face. The Chief wandered over as well, having been engrossed in something herself. Her gaze fell upon the soda can in Sharon's hand and she pursed her lips.

"Is that the last one I asked Lieutenant Provenza to get me earlier?"

"Whoops," Provenza said. "My bad, Chief."

Sharon gave a low little growl of annoyance, but said nothing further on the topic. Tao turned his screen around for everyone to see.

"I knew he had to be in here!"

The very public affair Freya had had all those years ago had been big news among the LAPD officers because they liked to gossip as much as anyone else. If you solved crimes for a living and were used to seeing terrible things, you were always grateful for a little distraction from the everyday horrors of your job. Since the guy Freya had been dating had worked security somewhere behind the scenes, no one on the team had remembered his name. He hadn't been relevant to Sharon's investigation either, so even had not been able to identify him. And maybe she hadn't really been privy to the gossip and the blurry photo some not so well-meaning person had snapped of their less than elegant dance at the office Christmas party had never been forwarded to her. Sharon also famously avoided social gatherings at the LAPD, so she had probably not been there to witness it herself either. Tao, who had the best memory for faces, had taken it upon himself to go through the personell files and accompanying headshots to see whether he could find Freya Simmons' lover.

The screen was now filled with a typical HR file picture of an overall nondescript guy with short brown hair and cold blue eyes. He was looking at the camera somewhat defiantly, but that was all Andy could gather from the picture. The accompanying information wasn't much more helpful except for the fact that he was responsible for surveillance.

"That's our guy," Tao said almost proudly. "That is Freya Simmons' boyfriend. Mark Richardson."

"Does he mean anything to you, Captain?" the Chief asked, either very tired or still a little upset about the soda. Sharon leaned in and looked at the picture over the rims of her glasses for a moment, examining the guy's features.

"I've seen him around. Even recently, I think, but I can't remember ever having spoken to him before." She shrugged, looking apologetic. "I don't think I've seen him with Sergeant Elliott either."

"Sergeant Gabriel," the Chief called. "See if you can reach Martinez and find out if he's seen Elliott with this guy recently. Lieutenant Tao, good work, I would like you and Lieutenant Provenza to bring him in for questioning. Yes, Detective Sanchez?"

Sanchez had raised his hand like a school boy and was giving her one of his enigmatic little grins now. His features settled into a more solemn expression, however, when he continued. "I finally found the police report on Freya Simmons' death. Their online database is a mess. Same little town where Elliott's beach house is, what a coincidence."

Andy could feel Sharon tense next to him. She hadn't taken the news of Freya's death well. In fact, it had taken him showing her the facebook page, because she hadn't believed him at first. When she had finally accepted the truth, she had turned away abruptly and had excused herself to get changed. Elliott's death had been hard on her. Losing someone else, even though it had actually already happened years ago, wasn't easy on her either, he could tell.

"It was a heroin overdose. She was found in her apartment by her boyfriend, Mr. Richardson who called an ambulance, but it was already too late. He was in pieces, it says here. Kept going on and on about how being fired killed her."

It was then that Sharon just turned on her heel and walked out into the hallway without another word and without sparing anyone as much as another glance. Andy moved to follow her, but Provenza stopped him, a warning hand on his arm.

"Give her a minute, Flynn. It's tough to hear for her."

Andy nodded and listened to Sanchez recount more details of the overdose and subsequent autopsy from the report before he finally couldn't wait any longer and went to follow Sharon. He found her in the empty hallway, leaning against a wall, eyes closed and the back of her head resting against the cool bricks. She opened her eyes when she heard his approaching footsteps and folded her arms in front of her in a posture that he knew she adopted to hold herself together.

"You were right," she said almost too quietly for Andy to properly hear her. "My job really is the worst job in the world."

Sharon Raydor's self-control was absolutely legendary, but even she had her limits. It was just that no one had ever been witness to her reaching them around here before. Andy sensed that she was about to come apart and closed the distance between them until he was close enough to touch her if he reached out. Mindful of her boundaries, however, he held back for the time being. Sharon pressed her lips together, but lost the fight against the tears that were soon welling up in her eyes. It brought out their color even in the dim lights of the hallway, Andy observed. When she brought her hand up to wipe the moisture from her cheeks, he gently took her hand.

"The job might be shit, Sharon, but you are not," he said softly. "You did the right thing."

Sharon covered her mouth with her hand. "She died because of me, Andy. And I didn't even know." Her voice broke and a strangled sob escaped her. "I didn't even know. I didn't know she died, I didn't know Elliott had lost his mother and was losing his mind. What kind of cop does that make me? What kind of person does that make me?"

Her pulled her in and was surprised when she didn't resist, but pressed her face into his shoulder instead, sobbing quietly. This was it. It was what they kept forgetting. Working IA and constantly being the bad guy to everyone around you wasn't fun. Sharon made it look fun, of course, with her little waves and quips and elegant way of going about 72-hour reporting cycles. She was choosing to be infuriating, because she was not there to be liked. People hated her anyway, so she might as well be blasé about it. Everyone in IA was dealing with it differently and this was her coping mechanism. It splendidly drew attention away from the fact that it was, if not an act, then at least a persona she had adopted to get through her day without letting the constant hostility get to her. She was so much stronger than Andy had ever known. He wouldn't have lasted a day in her job. But then everybody had their breaking point and this was hers.

There was nothing he could say to her now because he knew that she needed to cry herself out before she could even try and listen to reason (or at least his version of it). So he held her tightly, running his hand up and down her back endlessly while her tears soaked his shirt.

When she finally drew back, her eyes were puffy and her cheeks were wet. Andy had always made fun of guys who had pristine cotton tissues in their pockets, but now he wished he was one of them. Instead he wiped the worst of it away with his thumbs.

"Hey," he said. "For whatever it's worth, Sharon, you didn't have a choice. You can't allow the LAPD to run rampant with cops on drugs or trigger happy idiots and you can't follow up on every single person whose discharge you recommended when they're gone. These people are not children. It's their responsibility not to let their addictions get the better of them. I of all people should know."

Sharon smiled sadly through her tears and reached up to caress his cheek as well. "You were wrong earlier, Andy, you're not being an ass about IA at all."

He smiled back, glad that she had found her humor again, even if she was till being grim about it.

"You can rely on me when things get tough. Most of the time I can limited my time of being an ass to situations when the person I am talking to is not crying their heart out."

"This is just a little bit much, you know," she said. "I just can't get that image of Sergeant Elliott walking into my office for the first time out of my mind. He was so young back then. Just a little bit older than Ricky is now and he was trying so hard to please me." She was smiling fondly now. "I know everyone kept calling him my little lapdog, but he was just so attentive and he wanted to succeed so badly. I don't know where he went wrong. Or why Freya didn't respond to any of my attempts to reach out. It scares me so much that it was all right in front of me and I didn't see it. I mean, Sergeant Elliott cutting my breaks or taking compromising pictures? It's so unlike him."

Andy nodded. "I've dealt with him a few times as well. He didn't strike me as that type either. Maybe Richardson will shed some light on this."

Sharon snorted. "Or there will be even more questions than there were before." She wiped her cheeks again, now composed enough, it seemed, to consider going back to the Murder Room. "I should wash my face," she said with no small amount of self-depreciation. "I don't want everyone to see that the Wicked Witch has lost it and has been bawling in the hallway."

She took a step to the side to walk over to the door of the ladies' room, but didn't get far before she began to sway on her feet. One hand came up to her forehead while her fingertips brushed the wall, but the smooth surface did not grant much purchase. Sharon hummed, then suddenly began to fold in on herself. Andy was next to her a second too late, because when he reached her, she had already crumpled to the floor.

"Hey Flynn," Provenza's voice called from the other end of the hallway. "Richardson is on night shift and he is on his way to Interview One. Do you and the Wicked Witch want to- Holy Shit!"

And with that, he started running towards Andy and Sharon's still form on the floor next to where he had dropped to his knees. If Andy had needed another sign that Provenza was beginning to get fond of Sharon, that would have been it.

Because Provenza never ran.