2 short additions to this episode: A very short one, prior to the Buzz/Rusty scene before Buzz went to talk to Hecht, and a tad longer one, extending the final scene of the episode.
A very short one
Sharon and Andy were seated in front of the monitors in the media room. They had just gone over their plan of attack with Buzz who was set to interview Hecht again. Actually, he and Provenza were about to interrogate him, they were done with the niceties.
However, instead of getting a move on, Buzz remained standing behind them, eyes firmly set on the man whose face the monitors showed.
Andy gave Sharon a subtle questioning look, who responded with a faint, sad smile and turned toward Buzz. She offered him the folder he would be using during the interrogation and softly said, "Buzz?"
He tore his gaze away from the monitors and swallowed. When his eyes settled on her, he nodded his head and reached for the folder. "Thank you."
She didn't let go of the folder immediately. "Are you all set?" she asked, eyes scanning over his face before settling on his eyes.
Buzz took a second, letting his eyes wander towards Andy. Andy just nodded solemnly at him, the gesture akin to a "Don't worry, you can do it."
Only then did Buzz finally reply, "Yes, I'm all set, Captain." His voice indicated he was reassuring himself as much as her.
She finally let go of the folder and nodded, just like Andy had a second ago. "Okay, good luck, Buzz."
"Yeah, go kick his butt," Andy added.
He smiled briefly at him and replied, this time with more confidence, "I'll do my best, Lieutenant."
He moved toward the door but Sharon stopped him before he could leave, "Oh, and Buzz," he turned to look at her, the lighter air to her voice now surprising him, "I believe Rusty's waiting for you." She gave him a knowing look.
He half scoffed half smiled. "Yes, I thought so."
With that he left.
A tad longer one
"Who is that heavy?"
"Well, you'll never answer that if you don't get some sleep." Andy grunted as he got up to his feet. "Come on," he tugged on the hand he was still holding, "let's get you to bed."
"You're right." She smiled and got up to her own feet.
"I have my moments," he flashed her a smile as he wrapped an arm around her.
She grabbed a hold of his hand, tugging on it as if to secure it more closely around her, and they walked down to their bedroom.
When they had made themselves comfortable on their bed, he couldn't help but ask, just to make sure, "You really are okay now?"
She had wrapped her arms around him, head resting on his chest. She was practically cradled in his embrace. She let her fingers dance across his stomach. "I am," she confirmed in a firm, convincing voice.
In response he tightened his grip on her for a moment. He began drifting off when her soft chuckle broke the lulling silence.
"Hmm?" He was loathe to speak, sleep still trying to claim him. But that she seemed willing to talk some more did not surprise him. This was weighing heavily on her and, if she was to get any decent sleep, he knew she'd want to get things off her chest. If that meant he'd have to let go of some of his sleep then so be it. He'd rather sacrifice a few minutes of his own sleep than let her continue her silent vigil over that damned case of theirs.
"He said you continue to follow me," she said simply, as if that explained it.
He lifted his head to look at her, but he could only make out the top of her head. "Who? Me?" He really was confused.
She hummed, and repeated her earlier dance of fingers over his stomach. "You," she stretched out the word, and her voice took on a slightly higher tone, "the team," she hummed again, "my family."
She was talking about her confession, he realized, finally catching up with her train of thought. He let his head fall back onto his pillow. "Well, if you'd have asked," he feigned annoyance, "I could have told you the same thing."
He could tell she smiled but when she spoke again, she sounded almost wistful, "I didn't ask him either."
But it must have felt nice to hear that anyway, he thought. He lifted his head again and moved a hand to her face, gently insisting that she look up at him. When she did, he spoke in a slow, deliberate tone, "We do." He continued in a less intense tone, a note of humor seeping into it, "Even if your rules annoy us sometimes." He pinned her with a hard look, but when he continued talking his tone was soft, albeit higher. "You get things done. You do things well. Of course we follow you." He gave her a grin before adding, "Even Provenza does."
She pulled her arms out from around him and moved to lean next to him against the headboard, dropping her hands to her lap. He did the same, but kept looking at her. "I worried that feeling like this," she paused and then corrected herself, "that feeling nothing," she looked up to meet his gaze, "meant that I was losing myself."
An almost rueful frown settled on her face and if that wasn't proof of just how difficult an admission and worry this had been to her, the voice in which she spoke, so unlike the smooth, deliberate and steady voice she usually used, surely must have been.
Even he couldn't fathom the idea of Sharon Raydor doubting herself or the system. "And now?" he gently prodded. He would not ask her to divulge anything she discussed in confession, but would accept what she would share of her own accord.
"And now," she took a deep, steadying breath, "I know that I did not," she nodded to herself, satisfied that her voice conveyed her newfound assurance, "lose myself."
That was all there was to it. She would be able to sleep now and would continue trying to crack their case tomorrow. "Good," he started, lowering himself on to his side facing her, ready to give sleep another shot, "because I'm too sleepy right now to go look for you again." He closed his eyes as if to prove his point.
She let out a soft laugh, and made herself comfortable on her own side, her back facing him. When he moved closer, draping an arm over her, she smiled and rested her hand on top of his. "I won't sneak away again," she half whispered, half hummed.
He moved closer, if at all possible; he had no intention of rolling over to find the side next to him empty again. "I'm not risking it," he mumbled, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades before resting his forehead there. And just to make sure she knew he wasn't joking he tightened his grip on her.
I just realized that Sharon & Andy seem to discuss things in bed a lot when I write them. I blame it on Duff for depriving me of private, Rusty-less Shandy scenes! One short one in more than half a season just doesn't cut it for me. XD
As always, thanks for reading! Till the next (and last) update! Bye-bye!