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Chapter 4: Hound Dog
It took three weeks for Andy Flynn to take Sharon Raydor out. There had been nothing coming in from the PAB and she had to take an emergency leave to go up North to be with her parents. Her father had fallen ill or something. She had called Jack to ask him for the kids and she never got a hold of him. It saddened her, but she went up north anyway.
Her returned was announced by a quiet knock on his front door. He had looked out the window first, seeing no car, he took his time to the door. On the other side of it was Sharon, sad, tears in her eyes, but a small smile. She was home. Sad, but home.
The trip had taken a lot out of her. Her father nearly died. He had caught a bad case of pneumonia and only had four percent lung capacity. The rest was filled with water. According to Sharon, the symptoms had come in over night. Her mother was scared, called Sharon when her father began to cough. She had her mother call 911 and met them at the hospital.
Sharon had been gone for almost two weeks. When she came back she didn't leave his house with the exception of going to work. She had put the call in that she was back, placed on call, and a morning while the pair were at breakfast her phone rang. A young officer with anger management issues punched out a suspect. That case took her nearly a week.
It made him laugh. His case was going on months and this kid's case took a few days of investigation, paperwork, and now the guy was on suspension. He brought it up to her and all she did was shake her head, roll her eyes and disappeared into his bathroom.
They were being domestic. It didn't bother him. He had the extra room, the one she claimed that night of her return. There had been no more kissing either, which was fine. But there were stolen glances, touches that could be claimed as intimate, and moments were the tension was so thick a simple kiss would resolve into something more. He didn't know if they were ready for that yet. If they ever would be.
She had been the one who brought up the date. Him taking her out. The proposition made in the heat of the moment and everyway wanted. He told her to dress comfortable. They weren't going somewhere fancy, but they weren't going to a slum of a place either.
It was a hole in the wall place Downtown. Small. Intimate. Romantic. It had a dance floor which he liked. The interior replicated the top of a skyscraper. Reservations weren't usually allowed – a first come first serve basis due to the fact that no one really knew about it. There was no sign on the door, no advertisement anywhere. A happy accident Andy Flynn once stumbled upon a few years ago when he was trying to get into the good graces of his now ex-wife.
"We're not going to have to wait in a line?" Sharon asked.
Andy shook his head. The cab dropped them off a block away. She wanted to walk and enjoy the warm air of the season. His hand had remained on her lower back after someone had approached her, begging her for money. She had politely denied them, but it didn't prevent Andy from stepping closer.
He had stopped in front of the brick building. There was a door with a padlock on it. The pretenses that no one was home and that the building had otherwise been abandoned.
Flynn rapped his knuckles against the middle door and smiled at the surprise when the brick wall opened, a slight sliver of the door and a person sticking their head out. He nodded to her when she looked back and she stepped in, over the threshold and into the building.
The look of amazement on her face had nearly matched his when he first came upon it. He had been walking down the street, his wife at the time stumbled, knocked her hand against the door and when it opened, the host waved them in. They had stumbled into a coveted lounge, with a full service bar. It was all Andy Flynn at the time needed to get through his night with the Mrs.
"How did you find this place?" she asked, slipping off her coat and handing it to the woman who had her arms stretched out.
"Came here with the wife," he shrugged. "It wasn't her thing."
"You think it's mine?" she asked.
As if on cue, the melodies of a jazz musician filled the space. There were a few people off to the side. He once asked what they claimed a good night; 25 people at the most. They were open every day of the week, there were the regulars and then the people who happened to stumble on it. The prices weren't cheap, but they weren't ridiculous either. Somehow, they made it work to stay in business.
Sharon was staring at the photos of the skyscrapers that littered the country. She was reading the tag for the Empire State Building when Andy took her hand. She didn't shake him off, didn't try to undo the hold, she simply curled her hand into it. The look of surprise melted into a thin wolfish smile. She couldn't help but smile at it.
He had led her to a table, a smaller one, a table fit for two. She slid into one side and Andy waited to slip into the other. A woman appeared quickly with waters and menus before disappearing again.
"So," Andy said, looking at her over her menu. "What brought you to the LAPD?"
She reached for her water, drank some of it before setting it down. She was collecting her thoughts. Choosing her words carefully. It was something he noticed. She wanted to be precise.
"I was going to be a lawyer," she said. "I married Jack and he already had his foot in the door in law school so we waited. He was going to go to law school, get a job and then pay my way through it. A trade. Instead I got pregnant, he went to work, and I raised our daughter. When she was old enough for day-care I applied for the force, went through the academy, and had my son a year later."
"So no law school."
"No law school." She nodded. "I miss it sometimes. Seeing what my friends do. Trying to figure out what I could have done to make their case easier. But I suppose I get that in the LAPD."
"Justice?"
"That and closure," she shrugged. "A case is finished. The outcome might be different than what we want, but it's closure."
The waitress brought a bottle of wine to the table. Poured Sharon a glass after Andy waved it off and sat it off to the side. A small plate of appetizers was brought next. An assortment of cheeses and breads and fruit. It was nice. Enough for two.
"What about you?" she asked. Her mouth was partially full due to the bite of cheese and bread she took.
Andy shrugged his shoulder. "My dad was a cop. My grand-dad was a cop. Made sense that I was one too."
"Do you think your son will go in that direction?"
"I hope to god not," he said, getting her to laugh.
He figured his Dad didn't want him to be a cop either. The job itself was a dangerous one. It was a daily reminder that every time the uniform was put on, the belt of tools and the gun was slipped into it's holster, might be the last time. That there would be a suspect who will shoot him dead. Or a misfire. Anything could harm him on the job.
Their meals had been brought. A chicken platter for him and a salad concoction of some sort for her. He had laughed at her as she picked at the salad, moving it's leafs around before dumping the dressing on top and diving in. She pointed out that for a man who didn't eat meat, he was going against his morals and eating a chicken. He had claimed it was his cheat day and that had made her smile.
The smile on this woman was something he enjoyed seeing. It thrilled him even more that he was the cause of it more often than not while they were together.
It was mid way through desert, a chocolate layered mousse concoction, Sharon's paired with wine, that he wiped his mouth. He pushed his chair back and offered her his hand. He didn't miss the wary look she had given him, but he still persisted.
"I don't dance," she said, even though she took it.
"Yeah," he said, not believing her. "But you used to."
It was something in her file that he looked into. It was only fair he did some research on her. She danced and was a talented one until she met the end of her career due to a fractured ankle and prolonged recovery. He figured it was around the time she met Jack, fell in love, and the rest of it was history. It made sense that she had been athletic. Her record was perfect – she had broken a few records.
A slow song was coming to an end when they stepped onto the floor. Her hand was loose in his, not necessarily a hold, but it was still in his. She hadn't pulled back once they went from carpet to hardwood. He tightened it when the music stopped and then kicked back in. A classic with a nice beat.
It wasn't just them who was on the floor. People who were hiding in the shadows had joined them and the four pairs danced to the music.
Instinctually, he pulled her closer. A hand to the lower back had them move in unison to the song. He could have dipped her. The music would have allowed him to, but it he was not looking to get shot. Or maimed. So he kept the hand at her back, her hand in his and it was her who pressed their joined hands to his chest.
An eyebrow was raised in question. She simply smiled and shrugged her shoulder. He couldn't help but grin in return. He took a step back and pushed her back, swinging her out and pulling her back in with a light spin. She when he caught her around the waist again. He turned them around to the clapping of various patrons. He watched as she started getting a little color in her cheeks.
He leaned and pressed his lips to her cheek. He felt her stiffen and then melt into the embrace. A leg was between hers and they swayed that way. He felt the brush of her hair against his neck. He didn't need to tilt his head to see her face buried in his shoulder.
The end of the song came and he spun her around once more, a little slower than the end and he took the chance to dip her. He had her supported at her lower back even though it wasn't a deep dip. When he pulled her back up she was smiling. A smile he had not yet witnessed and he realized then that he was –
A round of applause was heard and Andy gave her a wink. Who knew who they were clapping for, but he squeezed her hand. She squeezed back as they stepped off the wooden floor. He didn't let go, didn't plan to, until they were at the table. She refused to let go. It had him turning around and turning towards her.
"Let's get out of here," she said, her voice hopeful.
It took him by surprise. He nodded and reached over grabbing a quick drink of water. He still hadn't let go of her hand. Together, with her pressed against his side, they retrieved their coats and stepped out into the chilled air. It was a few doors down that he stopped and she buried herself into his chest.
It wasn't that cold. It was closer to 70 than 60, so her sudden need for warmth was unexpected. Not that he minded. He enjoyed her being close. He enjoyed her being near him. It was a vast difference of what he wanted from her then the beginning.
What happened next was definitely a surprise. A warmth hand, gentle fingers, traveled his check. Her thumb brushed his jaw as she leaned up enough to press her lips to his. He cradled her in his hand, his fingers weaving with her hair. His other hand found its purchase around her waist and on her hip.
Her moan was lost in the symphony of horns honking, wolf whistles, and whatever else happened at that exact moment. He pulled back but found himself drawn to her, so he kissed her again. And again. One more time until he forced himself to pull back and see the tint of her cheeks. To feel the tightness of her hand in his. There was no way she was letting go now.
The headache he felt the next morning was due to lack of sleep. The pain he felt in his back and in his legs were for another reason. It was the reason he had a smile on his face and it was also the reason why he was searching the space next to him. It wasn't warm, but it wasn't cold either.
Rolling off of his side and onto his back, he groaned. His back hurt from the first round which was against the back of his couch. His legs hurt from the second round which took place in the shower – their first attempt at getting clean. His shoulders hurt from the third round, trying to keep himself up right without falling. The fourth and final round, the final attempt in the shower, had them crawling back into bed and collapsing with exhaustion.
Andy glanced at the clock. That had been nearly three hours ago. Lack of sleep. Headache. Ipubrofen. Water.
He expected Sharon to be gone. Not to have stayed but the note he found on his bedside table made him thing different. She wanted to stay if she could have.
Called into office. Family called in lawyers.
He pushed himself up and out of bed. Took a quick shower. Again. And dressed for the day. He drove Downtown. Traffic wasn't awful getting there, but it wasn't great either. They were always building new buildings, adding things for transportation – things he didn't expect to be utilizing.
Sharon was in the lobby when he stepped into it. He noticed her when he shifted his sunglasses from their spot against the bridge of his nose to the top of his head. She had a phone pressed to her ear, the extension coming from the other side of the lobby desk. The grin he had on his lips faltered at the cold expression she gave him when he stopped in front of her.
"He just got here," she said.
She hummed into the receiver and handed it to the desk sergeant on the other side. Without pretense, she grabbed Andy's hand and dragged him through the lobby, through the turn style, and bypassed the elevators. She rounded the corner and slammed her hand into the push bar and waited until it clicked shut.
It was then that she stood at the base of the staircase and spun around, her hand going for his neck. She pulled him down and pulled him into a kiss. He knew it was coming, expected it. It just came a little bit later than anticipated.
His hands went to her hips and pushed her back when air became a necessity. She looked bothered he realized. The green of her eyes that had been so bright the night before and early this morning was gone. Replaced by something else.
"Sharon, what's wrong?"
"The family hired a lawyer," she said, her breath still trying to be caught. "The hired a lawyer and it's Jack."
"Jack? Jack who?"
"Jack my husband, Jack," she said. "Father of my children, Jack."
He lunged for her. He kissed her with everything he had in him. He caught the moan that escaped and tightened his hold against her waist. He would have made her indecent if he had the chance, if he had the time, if there wasn't the looming possibility that someone could walk in on them. So he kissed her and pressed his fingers against her, tight. He wanted her. He wanted her before the world came crashing around them.
It was going to happen. He could feel it. He could sense it like a dog on a hunt. Life as he knew it was over.
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