A/N: Here's another chapter in celebration of it being friday ;) Thank you all for reading =)
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When Rusty woke up Saturday morning he found Flynn asleep on the sofa when he trudged into the living room. The lieutenant was tangled in a blanket, long legs over one sofa arm. Rusty was surprised; he had expected the lieutenant to be sleeping in Sharon's bedroom from listening to their conversation last night. Apparently there was something he had not quite understood.
Rusty softly padded into the kitchen, taking a carton of milk out of the refrigerator. He drowned a full glass and then turned the coffee machine on. Looking into the refrigerator again, he contemplated what he should make for breakfast; he wanted to do something special for Sharon.
Taking out eggs and a block of cheddar, he grimaced trying to hide a yawn. He felt exhausted from yesterday, the whole ordeal having settled into him like bone-weary fatigue; that and he had a vague recollection of what had bordered on a nightmarish dream that had spun round in his head throughout the night. He couldn't remember the specifics of the dream but the feeling was still there – something that tasted a bit like dread. It had been some time since he'd had those sorts of dreams.
"Morning, kid," Flynn greeted him, voice rough with sleep. Rusty looked over his shoulder, noting the lieutenant stood awkwardly on the threshold into the kitchen, a hand around his neck as if he had slept wrong on it. Rusty wondered where the lieutenant had found pajamas pants to sleep in, the pants even fitting, neither too long nor too short. The t-shirt the lieutenant had on was grey, big letters proclaiming LAPD on it; it looked to be a little too tight on the other hand. It was a little mystery; Rusty was sure Flynn had had nothing with him last night when he'd rung their doorbell. Maybe he had borrowed something to sleep in from Sharon.
"Morning," Rusty replied, not sure what he felt about the lieutenant being in their home in this capacity but the forlorn look the older man gave him made every apprehension quickly dissipate. The man still looked haggard, the bruise on his jaw even more pronounced. Rusty grimaced; that bruise was from the shuffle with whoever had tried to strangle Sharon – and with that reminder Rusty really had no problem with the lieutenant being in their home.
"I was going to make breakfast," Rusty said to fill the silence, beginning to feel a bit awkward himself; he'd gotten used to it only being Sharon and him.
Flynn nodded, then after running his palm across his face, he said, "I'll help - you just tell me what to do."
Rusty nodded with a half-smile, watching Flynn yawn and stretch, the man growling in the back of his throat when he came further into the kitchen, obviously still tired.
In a matter of a few moments they were both at work, silently. Rusty was coming up short for a conversation starter so instead he fried slices of onions before he put the egg mixture on the pan. He watched the omelet on the frying pan, putting grated cheese and pumpkin seeds on top when it had been on the stove for a short while.
"Looks nice," Flynn commented, eyes on the omelet briefly before they returned to the cutting board and the melon he was slicing. Rusty gave a hum in response, opening a cabinet to find plates. Flynn was eyeing the coffee machine still sputtering with a longing look, cutting another slice of melon; Rusty agreed silently – coffee would definitely help with waking up. Rusty was in the middle of setting the table when Sharon came into the kitchen, yawning, likewise in a pajamas; hers was green and satin.
"Mmm, smells lovely in here," she smiled, approaching Rusty first and depositing a small, brief peck to his temple.
"Morning," Rusty greeted back, happy to see her.
Overall, she looked better than last night, Rusty decided, and it made him smile widely back at her. Though there was still the visible handprint around her neck, less vibrant but with a different, darker attenuation. Rusty's smile faded – its presence disturbed him.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," she greeted Flynn when she turned away from Rusty. Rusty watched Sharon nervously fiddling with the sleeves of her pajamas top, her smile seeming to encompass a nervousness that was unlike her. Rusty wondered why it was lieutenant now when it had been honey last night but he didn't voice his speculation.
"Morning, Captain," Flynn replied in the same awkwardly formal tone, scratching the back of his head; it looked as if he was in the middle of taking a step towards her but decided against it, an awkward little step back and forth on his feet.
Rusty rolled his eyes at their antics, finishing setting the table and coming back to the stove. He looked between the two, wondering if they were aware of how uncomfortable they looked. Probably not, he decided when Sharon avoided Flynn's eyes for the umpteenth time and Flynn scratched his head once again, eyes intensely following Sharon's movements.
Sharon opened the refrigerator, "You want orange juice on the table?"
"Yup," Rusty answered, taking the pan off the stove and moving it to the table. Flynn brought the cutting board with him, the melon neatly cut.
"You two - sit," Rusty smiled at them, pointing at the table. They both obliged and he went to grab the coffee pot.
It was less awkward once they were seated and in the middle of eating but Rusty still understood there was a tension that bordered on something he wasn't entirely sure what to do with; something that was very different from last night and yet very similar. Sharon brushed away any questions regarding her state of mind and looked annoyed everytime someone's eyes landed on the bruises; Flynn seemed apologetic and a bit lost for words meanwhile Rusty was stuck trying to bring the two adults into conversation – about anything really.
"So," Rusty started when his prodding into yesterday went nowhere – apparently it was too early in the morning to expect any kind of details from the two of them but incoherent mumbling and sighs, "What're we doing today?"
Both adults looked at him as if he had sprouted four antennae's on his head though Rusty pretended not to notice.
"Laundry," Sharon replied, looking baffled, "I'm just doing laundry."
There was vulnerability about her still, Rusty reflected, something that made him want to assure her that everything was going to be fine; something that made him want to draw her into an embrace.
Flynn gave a shrug, stuffing a piece of melon in his mouth.
"We could go to the beach?" Rusty ventured, looking between them. They needed to do something that would take their minds of what had happened Rusty thought; otherwise it would fester like an inflamed wound.
Flynn looked doubtful about the suggestion and Sharon looked down, hair obscuring her expression.
"A bit of fresh air, an ice cream and good company?" Rusty elaborated, "You know that small ice cream stand, Sharon, with the gelato you like."
"I'm not sure," Sharon started, fingers hesitatingly hovering close to her neck. She looked pained for a brief second before it quickly faded, replaced by impassiveness.
"Are you in pain?" Flynn asked, eyes dark with concern.
"A bit," she relented, pushing her fork around on her plate; Rusty noticed she had barely eaten anything, "The doctor said it would hurt for a while but that nothing major or vital had been damaged," she paused and then when she noticed their looks, "I'll be fine."
"Does it hurt when you eat?" Rusty asked, wondering why she hadn't gotten some yogurt if she had trouble with the omelet. He was not used to her being indecisive; it rattled him a bit.
"Some," another vague answer and a faint smile meant to reassure them both. It did nothing of the sort.
"You want some yoghurt?" Rusty pushed his chair back, "I'll get you some yoghurt."
Rusty quickly waved away her protests and quickly went to grab the yogurt carton out of the fridge before she got it herself. Sharon smiled warmly when Rusty placed a bowl with yoghurt in front of her along with a spoon. He watched her bring the spoon to her mouth, watched as she swallowed with what still looked like an grimace; it was an expression that only deepened into a frown when she caught both Flynn and Rusty looking at her intensely.
"I'm fine," she stressed, giving both of them a little glare. She took another spoonful yogurt, a little sigh leaving her mouth.
"What else did the doctor say?" Flynn asked, crossing his arms and leaning back in the chair.
"That I was fine," Sharon replied, this time the tone most definitely annoyed.
Flynn's brows furrowed and Sharon pursed her lips. They were frowning at each other and Rusty thought it looked to be on the brim of anger; only Sharon looked away and ate some more yogurt, eyes on Rusty instead;
"What did you miss yesterday? When Provenza pulled you out of school early?"
"Just integral equations," Rusty smiled crookedly, "Nothing much."
Sharon shook her head, a smile on her lips.
Flynn was still looking at her but she ignored him. Rusty wondered how two people could display so different attitudes towards each other; why yesterday it had been strained but with noticeable concern and affection – this morning they seemed awkward and short of patience. He had considered asking why the lieutenant had stayed the night but the question was sure to raise hackles so he refrained; even if it was rather self-explanatory why Flynn had stayed Rusty still would have liked further insight into the whole thing. Not now, however, what with Sharon seeming on the verge of raising her voice and Flynn looking ready for combat.
Flynn sipped his coffee, a dark expression on his face, tense lines around his mouth.
"So you're not going to tell me what the doctor said?"
Sharon looked up, eyes narrowing, "There's nothing to tell – give it a rest."
Flynn pointed his fork at Sharon, "I'm just concerned, Sharon, no need to blow a fuse!"
Sharon gave the fork a belligerent look and Flynn quickly moved it back to the table again.
"I'm not blowing any fuses," she said, voice low but aggravated.
Flynn rolled his eyes and Sharon narrowed hers further in response.
Rusty sipped his coffee silently, trying to understand where all this was coming from, trying to understand what he had missed. The air seemed to go out of Sharon and she sighed, and then looked back and forth between Rusty and the lieutenant; "I know you're concerned about me but really I'm fine. A little sore and a bit shocked but overall I'm okay. Now if you'll refrain from looking at me as if I'm going to break into pieces that would be appreciated. I'll be even better once this is over and done with."
Flynn nodded, "That's all I wanna hear."
Sharon forced a little smile.
Then silence for a short moment while they ate.
"I suppose a bit of fresh air would do me good," Sharon said when she had finished her yogurt, sipping hesitantly on her coffee. There was once again a gentleness to her and every little notion of annoyance had left her expression; she seemed apologetic. She caught Rusty's eyes and fixed him with a smile.
Rusty smiled and nodded enthusiastically.
Sharon's hand once again went to her neck; Rusty wasn't sure if she was aware of it though, her look troubled.
"You'll be able to cover most of it up, Sharon," Flynn said to her, his eyes alike on the bruises, "No one's going to care and if they stare I'm gonna get right up in their face."
She gave a hesitant laugh, eyes warm suddenly.
"Well then, the beach it is," Rusty said.
A smile crept onto Flynn's face and Sharon gave a brief but sincere chuckle, her eyes on Rusty, "The beach it is," Her voice was soft and back to her normal self; Rusty felt more at ease.
"Andy?" Sharon asked then, her eyes landing softly on Flynn.
He nodded and smiled tentatively back.
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