Flynn goes through the motions until he can get back to the squad room and fake a sudden illness. Actually that doesn't happen, but he does consider it. After the Chief has them search the crime scene and a hundred yard radius of it for the twelfth time, she finally decides to let the body and them go. To say Andy Flynn sprints to Sanchez's car is an understatement. Provenza is out of breath when he catches up to them and climbs in the backseat.
"Where we going?"
"Downtown," Julio remarks, turning the car toward the station.
"I thought Flynn had a hot date he needs to get to," Louie jabs, nudging Flynn's shoulder with his elbow as he leans across the front seat. Andy pays no attention to him, keeping his eyes on his phone. Sharon has ignored every one of his last ten messages and her phone is going straight to voicemail. Flynn curses. "She hasn't cancelled on you has she?"
Sanchez shifts closer to the driver's side door, one hand near the handle in case he needs to stop fast and break up a fight. He isn't sure that whatever is upsetting Flynn has anything to do with Sharon Raydor, but he isn't going to bet his paycheck against it.
"Don't take the long way," Flynn says to him, his eyes straight ahead. Sanchez nods and speeds up.
"I can go lights."
"No, well, no. Just as quick as you can."
"Woah, Flynn, what's your hurry? Afraid she isn't going to keep? Gotta say, Raydor was looking pretty hot under the sun today. I thought you were done with her but well, if you just gotta scratch an itch—" The older detective chokes on his words when Flynn's full fury turns on him.
"Louie, if you value our friendship you'll stop now," he says through tight-lips, his brown eyes boring a hole through the man.
"You like her?"
"This isn't about her, it's about our son."
The noise inside the car descends into an eerie quiet as the men hold their breath and digest what Andy Flynn let slip. He mutters another curse, mentally kicking himself as he turns round to face forward again. Deciding that the saying discretion is the better part of valor is a good motto to follow right about now, Sanchez keeps quiet and slips the blue light from under his seat onto the dash. He flips the two switches to the left of the steering wheel on and increases speed. Flynn doesn't say a word. And thankfully, neither does Provenza.
Leaving the station parking garage, Flynn calls her phone one more time. "Sharon, call me now damn it! He's my kid, too!" He slams his car door shut and, not knowing what else to do, heads to his apartment, all the while formulating what he will do to Sharon Raydor if and when he is able to put his hands around her neck.
Arriving at his apartment building, Flynn takes the steps two at a time, working off his frustration. He stops short at the sight of his door slightly ajar. Andy pulls his gun, holding it down beside his leg as he shoulders the door open. A quick glance inside has him breathing a sigh of relief and holstering his weapon.
"What the hell are you doing?" he yells at his son, who is spread out in his recliner, remote in hand as he sips a soda.
"Hey Dad, how was work today?" Danny flashes a grin which quickly disappears as Flynn slams the door shut and flies across the room. Daniel pushes the recliner's leg rest down and stands up fast, knocking the back of his legs into the chair as he scrambles out of the way.
"Do you know what you've put me and your mother through? Do you even know where she is?"
"I, um, isn't she, don't!" Daniel flinches back, throwing his arms up as Flynn reaches for him. Andy stops short of grabbing his son, deciding at the last second to throw his hands on his hips in a stance similar to one he's seen Sharon take.
"Look at me! Have you called your mother?" He barks out, the fury Provenza saw earlier in his eyes now doubled. Daniel meekly shakes his head.
"What's your problem, kid?"
"You! Okay!" Danny shouts back, his confidence that Andy Flynn isn't going to strike him growing. "What did you do anyway? Get wasted and knock her up?"
"Sit down," Flynn says in a quiet, restrained tone. "Sit now." He points and Danny falls back into the chair. He watches the man who is his father run a hand through his silvery hair before letting out a long huff as he sits down on the couch across from him.
"What happened between your mother and me is none of your concern. It happened. Period. That's all you need to know. You are not allowed to use that against her, ever. Do you understand me?"
"Why not?"
"Because," Flynn stares at him, "I said you can't. Do you really want to push me on this?" Danny swallows hard and shakes his head. "All you need to know is she loves you more than life and you are hurting her worse than you can imagine right now."
"Do you love me?" If not for his lowered head and his submissive posture, Flynn might have dismissed the question as a smart-ass remark. Instead he sees Danny's sincerity and pauses, some of his anger dissipating.
"Honestly, yeah, I do," Andy admits. He settles back on the couch, the weight of the day's worry falling from his shoulders. "You're mine, so loving you is automatic."
Danny snorts, "Tell that to my other dad."
"I don't know the guy, but I can assure you that me almost taking off your head was all out of worry and fear and love for you and for your mom," he adds without even thinking.
"But you don't know me," Daniel says, raising his head enough so Flynn can look into his green eyes. "What?"
"You have your mother's eyes."
"Do you love her?"
Flynn flinches at the question. "Love, Sharon, I—" and he can't say no which throws him, but he isn't sure about a yes.
"I should call her," Daniel interjects as the sight of his mother's worried face finally flashes in his mind.
"Yes, you should," Flynn nods, happy for the distraction from his son's question. He sees the clock and is stunned at how late it is. "Have you eaten? Are you hungry?" Danny looks back from digging in his backpack and shrugs.
"Why?"
"I don't get to do this parent thing often kid, so you'll have to give me some leeway here." Flynn grabs his phone and speed dials the local delivery place. "Italian blend good for you?"
"That works," Danny says, grabbing his phone and sitting back down on the recliner's edge. "Parent thing often? What's that mean?" he asks when Flynn hangs up.
"I, uh, you have a brother, Jesse."
"Wow and I thought this week couldn't get anymore interesting," the kid deadpans but Flynn just chuckles. "What?"
"Nothing," the detective shakes his head thinking how much like him Danny is.
"So when do I get to meet Jesse?"
"When my ex-wife stops being a," Flynn pauses, reminding himself that although Daniel is a teenager, he is not just any teenager, "when she stops being difficult and allows him to visit."
"Older?"
"Younger, Jesse's thirteen."
Daniel nods, digesting this new information, "So you and my mom and that whirlwind romance…"
"I'm not joking, Daniel," Flynn's eyes harden, "there are lines."
"I'm not crossing any," Danny holds up his hands in surrender. "Just tell me it wasn't some affair from you either, that you weren't dodging responsibility or—" Flynn reaches across the short distance between him and his son to grab Daniel's hand.
"Look at me," his says, his eyes locking with his son's, "If I had known that you were mine I would have been there from day one."
"Before or after your AA meetings," Daniel asks with a straight-face. Andy feels the pang that hits each time someone calls him on his life back then, however, this pang hits harder than most. He drops his head and bites his tongue to prevent his usual defensive wise-crack from spilling out. "Amazing what you can find on the Internet these days. Apparently you were at an AA meeting a few months back when a guy attacked you. How's your side?"
"I remember what it was like to be your age," Andy says, his voice strained as he tries to keep calm. "I don't remember much from some years, but I remember that one. Everything pisses you off, the world sucks and your parents don't know shit." He looks up, his eyes meeting Daniel's in an unflinching stand-off. "I've got a past and I've had some problems. If you want reasons to hate me, you won't have to look hard to find some. Just ask your mom."
As Flynn talks, Daniel feels his mouth go dry and tries to swallow but his throat feels tighter. Flashing in his mind are the images of his mother and Flynn from the ballpark, of her smile when the doorbell rang the night before, and then he sees her like she looked that time he fell out of the tree and broke his arm. Rick hadn't been in town that day, and when he came home all he did was mutter a "be more careful" to Danny as he walked to his office and closed the door. The only time Rick had ever raised his voice at Danny, in a tone even close to how Andy had earlier, was when Danny wanted to play ball and accidentally made Rick hang up on a client. Daniel's face starts to flush at the realization that the man before him, who doesn't even know him, really does care about him more than the guy who thought he was his father ever did. Daniel sinks lower, feeling more than regret for his stupid crack.
"Um, I…" Daniel's voice is hesitant. He clears his throat and tries again, "I'm sorry."
"What?"
"I'm sorry I worried you and that I haven't given you a chance." He holds Flynn's gaze, watching as the man sits back and slowly nods.
"Okay," Flynn says at last, "call your mom. Food should be here soon. You can go wash up, I take it you've found the bathroom?" Daniel shakes his head as he stands. "So you can pick locks but you don't go snooping?"
"Bachelor pad; isn't really much I haven't seen," his son smirks.
"Does your mom know about your skill?"
"She thought me," his grin widens, "locked the keys in the house one too many times so she had to pick the lock. I helped." Flynn scoffs, shaking his head. "So is that it?"
"I'm sure your mom will have plenty to say to you. But," Andy stands, noting that even though Danny is closing in on 5'6" maybe 5'7", he's still taller than his son and he uses that height to his advantage. "If you ever do this again, I will tear your head off. Understand?"
"Yeah, I do," Daniel nods, his face full of remorse. "Um.."
"Um?"
"What do I call you?" he asks with a meek look toward the detective.
"You can stick with Flynn until you decide to try something else."
"Okay, uh Flynn could you keep my mom from killing me?"
"You're gonna owe me, kid. Now call her."
Daniel's call goes to voicemail, so he immediately sends a text. He wants to go home, but Flynn tells him they are staying put and eating pizza. When Danny starts to doze, Flynn guides him down the hall to the room Jesse uses on the rare times he's over. He watches his son kick off his shoes and fall on the bed, asleep in minutes. "Guess running away is hard work after all," Andy smirks, closing the door before heading back to the living room. He picks up his phone to call Sharon when Danny's phone starts to ring.
"I'm on my way," she rushes out as soon as she hears the call connect. "Okay, don't you dare move."
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Flynn, where's Danny? Why do you have his phone? Put him on right now!"
"Danny is asleep, so no, I won't put him on. He's ok and since you're on your way you can see for yourself when you get here."
"Why is he at your apartment and how do I get there?"
Flynn rolls his eyes at her quick fire questions, reminding himself that she is a distraught mother and so he has to tread lightly. He takes a breath and gives her directions, then hangs up, grabs a slice of pizza and waits for the storm that's coming.
Sharon is a whirlwind when she hits the steps leading to his door. "Calm down," Andy says, meeting her in the doorway. "He's asleep and I think you should just let him stay that way."
"Get out of my way, Flynn."
"Sharon, don't," he grabs her as she tries to go past him, spinning her around just inside the living room.
"I mean it, Flynn, you do not want in the middle of this! Now let me go!" she seethes, struggling to get away from him. He tightens his hold on her wrists, clamping her hands behind her back at her waist. Sharon dances away from him, trying to sidestep her way down the hall.
"Take a breath, Sharon. He's ok. He was just stupid, you know, the way Provenza can be sometimes."
"No, he doesn't get off that easy," she scowls, trying to pull and twist her arms free of him. Flynn grips her tighter. "That hurts."
"So stop fighting me," he replies. "What are you going to do anyway? You know you can't really strangle him."
"I can strangle him a little." Sharon huffs, sending some of the hair that has slipped to cover her face flying. Flynn can't hold back his grin.
"And you! How long has he been here? Why didn't you call me?"
"Come again?" Flynn cocks his head, then quickly maneuvers toward the kitchen when Sharon lunges for the hallway. Their momentum carries them toward his small kitchen table, slamming Sharon's back against the retro metal frame. "Shit, sorry, sorry," he says, letting go of one arm to grab her shoulder and pull her back. Sharon pushes off him, doing her best to get around him. "Oh! Fuck no you don't," Flynn blocks her with his knee, trapping Sharon between his body and the table.
"Lieutenant!"
"Andy."
"Asshole."
"Just when exactly did all this become my fault?"
"Since you won't let me see my son," Sharon's voice is low and worse than if she were yelling, because if she were yelling he'd dismiss her as being homicidal.
"You mean since I won't let you do bodily harm to our son." Flynn notices he's breathing just as hard as she is, their breaths coming in quick shallow intakes. Her face is flushed, her eyes dangerous behind the dark frames of her glasses. When Sharon bolts again Flynn grabs her round her waist with both hands and picks her up, sitting her on the table. The quick move throws her, giving him enough time to brace his hands on her legs and pin her in place. "Now for godsake calm down."
"My son has been missing all day," Sharon spits out, her words on the verge of hysteria as she pushes at Flynn's shoulders, "and you expect me to calm down." Tears threatening to spill, she jerks at her glasses, tossing them on the table as she wipes at her eyes.
"He's ok, Sharon, and I promise I laid into him the second I walked in and saw him here. But he's ok. And you're going to be ok. Just take a breath."
"Stop telling me to calm down! You started this, you, you bastard."
"What happened to asshole?" Flynn says with a smirk that sends the blaze in Sharon's eyes to an all consuming level. Mentally he reminds himself that even a sarcastic smirk is not a wise move when she's in such a state.
"If it hadn't been for you and that damn Provenza! Why did you do this to me?" She slaps at his shoulder, balling her fist to hit him, once, twice and then again for good measure. 'Danny was right,' Flynn thinks as he winces from the blow, 'she does have a mean right hook.' Her physical attack, which although not pleasant, doesn't hurt him but it does flair his annoyance.
"Me do this to you? Why didn't you answer the damn phone or, I don't know, take a few minutes to send a text that explained more than I'll tell you later!" He grabs her arm, jerking her just enough to let her know he's doing his best to control his own anger. "You weren't the only one in the dark and worried out of your mind! I didn't know what was going on with either of you!"
The intensity in his eyes causes Sharon to swallow whatever comeback she intended to say. Staring down at her staring back up at him, seeing her dark green blouse wrinkled, her hair disheveled and her gray skirt skewed, Flynn does the first thing that pops in his mind.
"You make me crazy," he says before clamping his lips to hers. Sharon squeals, the sound muffled against his mouth, and pounds her fits into his sides at least twice before gathering up his shirt and holding tight. "Don't ever do that to me again," Flynn mumbles against her lips, his fingers moving to cup the back of her head and hold her close to him. Sharon kisses back, hard and urgent, in an effort to stem the tears and raw emotion threatening to consume her. Hands in his hair, she holds him to her, as if he is an anchor that will prevent her from drifting away. Flynn deepens the kiss, brushing his hand along her sides as he tightens his hold on her waist. Sharon hums, leaning into him, lightly nipping at his lower lip then turning softer, gentle with her kisses.
Flynn eases back, brushing his lips against hers before gathering up the courage to inch away from her. He slides his hands to Sharon's shoulders, asking, "okay?"
She shakes her head. "Is he really okay?"
Flynn nods, "he's confused and probably did the most boneheaded thing he could, but he's okay. Not a scratch or hair out of place. I'm sorry he did that to you."
"I'm sorry I didn't ask you for help." Sharon's lip quivers, her eyes watering.
"And about calling me a bastard?"
"Don't push it."
"Can I let you down?"
"Is he in the first or second door on the right?" Sharon asks and she shifts as if she is going to get down from the table.
Flynn sighs, "Seriously?"
"You do not understand what he did to me," she replies, the fire in her eyes edging back. Flynn cups her face and stares at her, trying to think of something to say. Sharon uses his hesitancy to make another move off the table. Muttering another curse, Flynn pushes her back into place, muffling whatever annoyed reply she attempts to make with a kiss. Sharon balls up the front of his button-up shirt in her fist, not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Letting out a sound that is near primal, she pushes against Flynn's chest with one hand while pulling him back to her with her other.
He mumbles her name against her lips, his hand cupping the back of her hair, tangling the strands in his fingers. He could kiss her for forever if she'd let him. "You can't strangle him," he whispers, holding her in place. She grabs his waist, pulling him closer.
"I could really hate you," she replies, leaning hard into him. The move brings her closer to the table's edge. Flynn pushes her back, his hand sliding to the hem of her skirt and then under it.
"Oh my my," he says, positioning himself between her legs. "I've been thinking about this for too long." He runs his hand further under the gray fabric and to cup her hip.
"Have you?" Sharon shivers at his touch. His mouth teases hers as she starts to feel her anger recede. "You sure he's asleep?" she murmurs against Flynn's cheek.
"I think so." He opens his eyes, seeing Sharon Raydor instead of a wounded wildcat bent on destruction. "Can I let you go?"
"What if you don't," she says, her hormones still overriding her common sense as she returns his kiss. Flynn grips her hip and pulls her tight against him, his lips venturing down her throat as she grabs his shoulder to keep her balance.
"Bedroom?"
"I'm good here," he replies, his thumb hooking then pulling at her panties. He moves just enough to slip them down her legs and onto the floor. "Little help?" Flynn grins as he starts unbuttoning her blouse. Sharon goes for the buttons on his shirt, making quick work of undressing him and pushing the fabric off his shoulders. While Flynn cups her breasts, she loosens his belt and unzips his pants. He pushes at her shirt, then at her bra, not waiting for her to unhook the back, instead pushing his fingers under the material to caress her flesh.
She sighs at the feel of his touch and wraps her leg around his as she pulls his lips to hers. Flynn hikes her skirt as far up her thighs as it will go as she pushes down his boxers and guides him into her. Sharon bites her lip, her fingers biting into his shoulder as he pushes his way inside.
She isn't sure how long she leans on him afterwards, but her breathing is steadier when she finally raises her head.
"You calmer now?" Flynn quips.
"Not really," she replies.
"Homicidal?" Flynn asks as he grabs a nearby towel, handing it to her before helping her to her feet.
"Not so much," Sharon says as she cleans up and puts her clothes back in place. "You do have a bed, right?"
"Yeah, I do."
"Good. Mind if I sleep over?" He gives her a long once over which makes her quirk her brow and take up her familiar stance with hands on hips. "What?"
"Should I hide the knives?"
Sharon rolls her eyes. "You're safe," she quips.
"And the kid?"
She takes a moment, as if giving it serious thought and that concerns him. "Nah, I can't figure a way out of it, so," Sharon sighs as if in defeat, "I guess he can live, too." Flynn just stares at her.
"Was that a joke?"
She doesn't answer, just cocks her head and offers a small grin. "I want to look in on him. First or second door?"
"First," Flynn says after another long moment. "That was a joke, right?"
"I'm unarmed," she replies, slipping past him.