No Such Thing as a Perfect Family (12)

If on the previous nights Sharon had been too agitated to sleep, consumed by fevered thoughts and sorrow and guilt, now, exhaustion had caught up so completely that she found it almost impossible to wake up. The sound of her alarm drilled painfully into her mind, and her body simply felt too heavy to even so much as roll over. When she finally managed it, and blindly reached a hand over to the nightstand, she was jolted by the surprise of feeling someone else's hand touch hers.

"Sorry," Ricky whispered apologetically as he turned off the alarm on her phone, "I was hoping I'd get it before it woke you up."

Sharon wondered how long the thing had been going off without her hearing it. "It's okay," her voice was hoarse, and she cleared her throat to no avail, "I need to be up anyway…"

But he put a hand on her knee. "Why don't you sleep in a little longer? I can drop off Rusty at school on my way to the airport…"

"Honey, I want to go with you –"

"I'd rather you didn't," he admitted. "I don't want you to drive back alone. No, Mom, please…" he held off her protest with a pleading look, "just… I have plenty of time to drop off the kid and get myself to the airport. Please just stay home and get some rest…"

That she gave in that easily was both a relief, and a reason for extra concern. But Ricky tried not to think about it: if all went well, Mom would at least be able to be with everyone for grandpa's funeral, and maybe that wouldn't make her any less sad about her loss, but he hoped at least that it would make that tormented expression disappear, because he just couldn't bear to see it anymore.

A little before seven he and Rusty were both dressed and ready to go, and Sharon enveloped him in a hug at the door. "Thank you so much for coming down, sweetheart." She held on tight, pressing her lips together and taking a long breath to keep her voice from cracking. "Please… tell grandma I'm sorry…"

He sighed. "Okay…"

And she held the hug for as long as she could, until the seconds stretched on and there really was nothing else to do but let go, which she did with a breaking heart, and, wishing her son a safe flight and Rusty a good day at school, she closed the door after them. Once they were gone, Sharon made her way over the couch and sunk heavily into the pillows, curling her legs under her and lowering her face in her hands.

Ricky took the schoolbag from Rusty to put it in the trunk, and he was a little surprised at the weight. "What did you pack in here, bricks?"

"Books," the boy responded with an expression that clearly said, 'duh', and Ricky was a little baffled because why on Earth would Rusty take his schoolbooks…? But then what did he know, maybe the kid had issues about leaving things he owned behind, or maybe the books had some sort of special value to him, and hey, who was Ricky to judge –

Rusty gave him a wry look, as though reading his thoughts. "Sharon is a police officer," he said with an eye roll. "Noticing evidence of a crime is kind of her thing… what do you think would happen if she saw that I'd left all the books behind?"

Oh.

Okay, that made a lot of sense. Living away from Mom for a few years had made Ricky forget about her scary powers of observation and deduction… which was a dangerous thing to do, especially if they were trying to pull something off without her knowledge. He nodded in acknowledgment of Rusty's valid point.

They drove another stretch toward the school in silence, and he was a little surprised at how the kid hadn't made another protest yet this morning. The previous night, when Ricky had first knocked on his door and broached the topic, Rusty had sounded about ready to take his head off:

You're crazy.

You are insane, this is never going to work in a hundred years, it's … on what, like, planet would that end well?

Which had frankly surprised Ricky a little, because the boy had barely strung five words together in a sentence all night long with him, and yet suddenly there he was, talking up a storm. After a lengthy heated debate and many convoluted explanations, it hadn't seemed like Rusty had any intention of going along with anything, and that had annoyed Ricky beyond belief, and there may have been some angry half-whispers bouncing off the halls of the spare bedroom.

Did Emma put you up to this?

What? I'm doing this for my mother, and I don't know what you think you know after a few months of crashing with her, but this is hitting her hard and she can't stay here while the rest of the family is up in Minnesota, she needs to go to her father's funeral! How are you not getting this?

There may have been some attempts at bossing around, and some sarcasm gone slightly out of control, and maybe just a little bit of reverting to a teenager's attitude himself, which at the very least Ricky was proud to say didn't happen overly much these days.

There had been that awkward moment when Rusty had wanted to consult a lawyer on the legality of it and Ricky had pointed out that they didn't have any lawyers on speed dial at midnight, and Rusty had suggested Dad which… yeah.

Anyway…

Look, I won't pretend I understand what's going on with you or this whole situation, but Mom can't take you with her and she won't leave without you and there's just nothing else to do to help!

Emma's going to –

Who cares what Emma's going to say? This is Mom we're talking about! Who's side are you on, anyway?

And suddenly and to Ricky's immense surprise, that had been the end of it. He was still baffled at that, a little, to be honest, because he couldn't understand how that, of all things, had settled the matter so quickly…but why question a good thing?

So, anyway… Rusty had relented, and they'd worked it out, more or less, as well as they could, and now here they were, en route to St. Joseph's, and the kid was still resolutely suppressing any further protests, but truth be told he looked a little green.

"Don't worry," Ricky tried to reassure. "It'll all turn out fine."

And Rusty gave him a dark sideways glance. "Did Sharon drop you on your head when you were like, a baby, or something?"

Okay. Reassuring: not his strong point.

The Major Crimes squad first knew that something was wrong when Emma Rios burst into the room shortly after nine-thirty a.m., heels clicking angrily against the concrete floor, and fairly roared: "Where is she?"

And of course they'd all had just about enough after the past few days, and Lt. Flynn stepped in her path and warned: "You need to take a break and stop harassing the Captain, because you're out of control."

"I just called Rusty's school on a hunch," she growled back, "and they told me he's not there today! Do you want to take a guess as to why?"

They exchanged slightly surprised looks, and Emma didn't really wait for a reply:

"Because apparently he's been excused, by his guardian, to take a trip with her on account of a personal family problem!" She was furious. "You're right, someone's out of control but it's sure as hell not me, so I'm going to ask again, where is Captain Raydor? And you better hope they haven't left yet because I'm this close –"

"Alright, Rios, that's enough." Provenza had pushed his chair back, his coffee abandoned on the desk. "We're calling the Captain… but I've got a feeling that she's not behind this…"

"No, I'm sure this is all just an amazing coincidence," Emma retorted, "completely unrelated to the mess that's been the last few days."

"I didn't say it wasn't related, I said she didn't do it." Provenza nodded to his partner. "Call her. Try for a… discrete inquiry," he advised. "No reason to worry her yet."

And when Flynn dialed, a little reluctantly, Emma marched up to him. "Put her on speaker."

He narrowed his eyes. "Captain," he greeted, disregarding the request. "I'm sorry to bother you –"

"Put her on speaker, or I swear to God I will call a judge and get a warrant out –"

He held up a hand, his look disgusted. "Captain," he said, "I'm putting you on speaker. DDA Rios is here, too."

There was a pause on the other end, then Sharon's voice came through. "What's happening, Lieutenant?"

Her voice was hoarser than usual, and already laced with a low-level anxiety. Emma opened her mouth but Provenza held up a warning finger, then nodded again to Flynn, who cleared his throat.

"Captain… where are you…?"

Another pause, then she sounded suspicious. "At my apartment …why?" Since no one said anything for a second, she added: "Is something wrong with the case? If I need to come in –"

"No, no," he hurried to refuse the offer. "The case is fine. We have a suspect in custody, he might lead us to the rest of them. Uh…" He didn't know quite how to broach the next topic without worrying her, and gave Provenza a helpless look, asking for suggestions. But before they could come up with anything, Emma demanded:

"Is Rusty with you?" She ignored the glares from the rest of the squad.

"Rusty is at school, DDA Rios," came Sharon's much colder voice, "and as I asked you yesterday, please stop –"

"He's not at school!" the woman retorted before anyone else could stop her. "As I'm sure you know perfectly well!"

This time, the pause on the other end was more pronounced, and when the Captain spoke again, the disdain was gone and there was unmistakable panic in her voice: "What do you mean, he's not at school? What is happening? DDA Rios!"

"This is Provenza," said the older Lieutenant, "don't panic, we think we know what's going on, the kid's probably fine, but –"

"'Probably fine'? Lieutenant –" They were clearly past the 'don't panic' stage, unfortunately, and that only earned Emma another round of glares.

"I'll come by to pick you up, Captain," Flynn said quickly, "in the meantime maybe you can call Rusty or the school and figure out why he might've decided to take the day off… I'll be there in twenty minutes."

When he hung up he rounded on the DDA. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong is that I've made it very clear that Rusty is a witness in a major state case, and there are rules to be followed, and Sharon Raydor is playing fast and loose with every rule in the book!"

"You heard the Captain, she didn't even know Rusty wasn't in school," Sykes defended. "You just worried her for no reason!"

"What, like I'm going to believe that she's not in on this?!"

Sanchez gave her a long look. "You need to take a step back from all this," he advised, "because you're not doing yourself or your case any favors."

Flynn wasn't ashamed to admit that he'd run the siren to get to the Captain's house faster, but it still wasn't fast enough because by the time he picked her up twenty minutes later she was frantic, to the point where she met him downstairs in front of the building and all but jumped into his car before he'd even properly pulled up.

"I called the school, they said Rusty came in this morning but…" She shook her head, her eyes wide, "Ricky told the school that Rusty had to go out of town… Sister Margaret knows my son and he said I couldn't be there myself to excuse Rusty, and she believed him, of course…" Sharon's voice trailed off, and she took a shaky breath. "God, Andy, what is going on?"

He grimaced. "I think you know the answer to that."

But she refused to believe it. "He wouldn't… Ricky wouldn't…" Her trembling fingers dialed the phone again, and again with no results. "He's not picking up…his flight was at ten-fifteen so he might already be on the plane… but… he texted me just an hour ago to say he'd made it to the airport! And where is Rusty?"

"Don't worry," Flynn advised, "you know they're fine, Sharon… they're just trying to help you."

"Help – this isn't helping!" She caught herself. "I'm sorry, I know this isn't your fault. I just… I can't believe my son or Rusty would do something like this." Although as she spoke the words, she realized that they weren't entirely true. Rusty had been so angry over what was happening, and he was feeling responsible… and Ricky had seemed so determined to help her and he didn't know the extent of the danger to Rusty and why, why hadn't she realized that they might influence each other into a terrible, terrible decision?

"Oh, god…" She propped an elbow on the armrest and lowered her face into her hand. This morning, alone at home with only her grief and loss and her overwhelming sense of guilt, she'd thought things truly could not get worse… but she'd been wrong.

"Where is my material witness?" Emma demanded the second that Captain Raydor and Lt. Flynn entered the murder room – but within seconds she had to admit that it may have been possible that the woman wasn't in on it. Her eyes were wide and her face was pale and she looked so frazzled, hastily dressed and with barely any make-up on, that even Emma had to at least allow her the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe. Of course, even if she hadn't planned all this, which Emma still wasn't convinced about, that didn't make Raydor any less responsible.

"I just knew something like this would happen," she groaned, "I told you that you're exerting undue influence on my witness and look at what's happening now! What do you think Stroh's defense is gonna say about this?"

Not caring in the least about Stroh or his defense, Sharon ignored her, glancing instead to Lt. Tao. "Lieutenant, is there a way to track Rusty's phone?"

"Already did," Tao grimaced as though he didn't have any good news, "last location was near a tower off Arlington, fifty-six minutes ago… and then it was turned off."

Sharon shook her head. "That's where the school is… he must've turned it off right after leaving… can we turn it on remotely…?"

"Tried. Not working… sorry."

Of course it didn't work, Rusty spent half his time at the station, he knew their tricks by now and if he didn't want to be found… A shiver ran through Sharon.

"Best we can tell is that the last known location was west of the school, so he may have been headed to a train station… or the airport…"

"Just so you know," Emma put in, "I'm checking all buses and trains toward Minneapolis and circulated Rusty's name to airport security at LAX. He's not on their list of passengers flying anywhere today, so he hasn't actually bought a ticket, but they know to keep an eye out now, so if you were planning to –"

"I was not planning any of this," Sharon retorted with forced calm, "and believe me, DDA Rios, this is not how I envisioned spending today, not in my worst nightmares so don't test me right now."

"Are you expecting me to believe you had nothing to do with this?" Emma crossed her arms. "Because you're supposed to watch him twenty-four seven, and I don't see how an unemployed sixteen year-old could've schemed a way to get to Minnesota without –" She trailed off. "Your son!"

Sharon's eyes narrowed. "Tread very carefully," she warned.

"I don't think you understand what's at stake here," the younger woman shot back. "Our best witness, who I told you was a flight risk, is out there, doing god knows what, right now, because he is out of control and it's all your fault," Emma was irate. "If you hadn't made such a spectacle when I suggested that he stay with the Broades for one week –"

"Let me make one thing very clear," Sharon snapped, "if Rusty found it necessary to do any of this it was because of your unreasonable demands, and your unconscionable attitude, and if something happens to him I will hold you personally responsible, and you are going to regret the day you –"

Her phone went off, and her attention was instantly diverted at seeing her son's name on the screen. "Ricky, where are you? Where's Rusty? Are you okay? No, don't apologize just tell me where. you. are. Right now," she finished sharply. "Yes I am, very angry," she said in a low tone, "but we can talk about that later, right now I need to know that you and Rusty are okay, so please… tell me what happened and where you are."

She stepped into the corridor to continue the conversation, and after a glance to his partner, Lt. Flynn stepped out after her; but when Emma moved to follow, Provenza pointedly pushed the door closed, keeping her in the squad room. "Take a seat, Rios," he muttered. "Eavesdropping on this isn't gonna help you get anything done any faster."

"What do you mean, driving up to San Francisco?" Sharon was stunned. "You were supposed to be on a ten-fifteen flight…" her voice trailed off, her expression growing horrified. "Ricky…What have you done?"

"It's grandpa, Mom," he said simply. "You can't not be there. Rusty didn't want that, either. So… we found a way."

Aghast, she tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying.

"You gave him your – how could you even… do you have any idea how illegal…" She couldn't even finish a full sentence. "Oh, Ricky… and you left him alone…?" Someone could've gotten to him – he was just a child… he'd never even been on a plane before!

"Don't worry, he's not alone."

"But…" Still unable to fully understand what her son was saying, Sharon squeezed her eyes shut against the growing anxiety. "I can't believe this… we have to stop him from getting on that plane… he could get arrested, you could both get in trouble!" She began to hurry toward the elevator, not even noticing that Flynn was automatically following her.

"Mom, it's too late," Ricky said with a sigh. "They're probably already in the air by now."

Sharon gasped at the news, then: "They? Ricky –"

"Look, I know this is a little… crazy," he admitted, "but it was the only way to get things done, and we didn't want you hurting, and we need you there for grandpa's funeral… grandma needs you, too. So please, just… trust us, Mom. Everything's fine, Rusty's fine, he'll be there when you get in. And so will the rest of us."

"Ricky – honey, even if that were possible, I'll never make it in time –"

"Grandma and Uncle Paul moved the funeral, Mom. To tomorrow. So we could wait for you. So… there you have it. Problem solved… please don't be mad at us."

And before she could even think of how to respond, Ricky excused himself saying that he didn't want to keep talking while he was driving, and he promised he'd see her later that evening, and they ended the conversation, leaving Sharon completely dazed.

"I need to get to the airport," she breathed, hitting the elevator button. "Maybe it's not too late… maybe Rusty didn't get on the flight…" she pressed two fingers between her eyebrows, trying to process everything she'd just heard. "Oh my god…"

"I'll drive," Flynn offered, following her in when the elevator doors opened.

The rest of the squad had been summarily filled in by Lt. Flynn over a quick phone call, and they waited in the murder room while the Lieutenant and the Captain drove to the airport. The atmosphere wasn't overly nervous, as most of them imagined how this would end, and it was what they had wanted for their boss, and maybe it wasn't happening quite the way anyone had imagined, but at least it was happening…

Maybe.

"If it's not her, it's her son," Emma swore under her breath. "I can't believe this. I will have him prosecuted."

Provenza scoffed. "For what?"

"Kidnapping a minor! Who also happens to be a witness in a major case!"

The older lieutenant barked a short laugh. "Kid didn't kidnap Rusty, he just gave him a ride to the airport. Which Rusty can very easily confirm he voluntarily asked for, so I wouldn't waste my time trying to make that sort of accusation stick."

"He gave Rusty his plane ticket and documents! That's illegal! He facilitated my underage witness flying out of state under a false identity!"

"Uh, no he didn't." Lt. Tao hung up the phone he'd been speaking into. "Just called my contact at LAX…Rusty wasn't on the plane that Ricky was supposed to be on. Their records say Ricky missed that flight, meaning no one used his ticket to get on the plane."

He left it unsaid that his contact had also noted another Raydor's name on the passenger list – who had also missed the flight. Tao had no idea what that even meant, but he certainly did not wish to share with the DDA.

Emma stared. "But… he didn't have his own ticket. He must've flown out somehow!" She frowned. "Unless they're lying. If Raydor's trying to sneak Rusty out a different way –"

"Oh, would you try a different tune, Rios," Provenza sighed, "the Captain obviously had nothing to do with this half-baked scheme. She's just playing catch-up. And her dad just died. Give it a rest." He shook his head. "The son's on the road to San Francisco, your witness is in the air to Minnesota… game over. It's out of your hands. Know when to quit."

Her lips pressed together and her nostrils flared… but the truth of the older man's words was undeniable. "This entire affair has been a blatant breach of procedure, not to mention the law," she growled, irritated. "It is not going to end here," she promised darkly, then turned on her heels.

"Wait." Provenza's unusually grave tone stopped her in her tracks, and she turned back to see that the man had stood up from his seat. "Before you storm out of here in rightful indignation, you're going to answer one question for me, and you're going to do it honestly." He paused to let her protest die off, then asked with a piercing gaze: "Do you have the intention to exact some sort of hare-brained retribution by sending a swarm of police after them, to pull the Captain out of her own father's funeral?"

Emma glanced at the rest of the team, who were waiting tensely for her reply.

Her shoulders slumped. "No," she said. There was no point to do that, at least.

The old Lieutenant studied her face for a minute and finally seemed to believe her, giving a curt nod. "Good," he grumbled, and headed back over to his desk, the tension of the moment seemingly broken.

Emma could have left, but lingered another second. "Out of curiosity," she asked tiredly, "what were you planning to do if I'd said yes?"

And Provenza gave her a knowing glance. "You already know the answer to that question," he said quietly, and sat back down at his desk, casually rearranging the handcuffs pinned to his belt.

Emma wanted to be outraged, she really did, but today had just stopped being worth it. And honestly, she needed the break from Sharon Raydor as much as the other way around.

Rusty passed through the airport security, shivering slightly as he held his hands up in the awkward body scanner and wondering if the thing could read his mind and see how many, many reasons those grim-looking guards had to stop him.

But it didn't, and they didn't stop him, and he put his shoes back on and grabbed his backpack and couldn't believe this had actually worked. He must've been breaking a hundred laws.

Well, it wasn't as though this was the first time he'd broken laws… and at least this time it was for a good reason. That thought made him more determined, even though he was once again starting to panic.

He couldn't help it. He was supposed to meet someone here, and they weren't there, and there was no way to contact them and was this all just a big joke on him? Was Emma waiting at the end of the corridor to laugh at him and arrest him for breaking the law? Then she'd have him at her mercy and there wouldn't be anything Sharon could do about it.

He almost turned back, but changed his mind. No, Ricky planned this. He wouldn't be in on it with Emma.

But maybe he just wanted Rusty to get in trouble. He was Sharon's son, of course he'd dislike Rusty, Rusty was an intruder who right now was keeping their mom from being with her family. What if this was all a ploy to get him out of the way, make it look like he'd left on his own, so she could go up to her father's funeral?

Well, then at least she'd get to go, and that would be fine with Rusty. Except she wouldn't just leave...Sharon would look for him. She'd be worried. He almost turned back again. But either way Ricky might be gone, he'd said he couldn't wait around, he'd bought another ticket from San Francisco and he had to drive a few hours to make that flight… But Rusty could still make it back on his own. Make it to school. Or home.

But then Sharon wouldn't be able to go to her father's funeral. There wouldn't be another time for that. She couldn't get that back, ever.

Who's side are you on, anyway?

Sharon had told him once that she was on his side.

Well he was on her side, too.

He wasn't turning back.

His legs carried him all the way to the right gate, and he looked around.

Rusty's eyes had automatically begun searching all the women in the waiting area. Ricky had said he'd 'know Katie when he saw her'. Which in Rusty's opinion was a pretty stupid way to describe someone, because it wasn't like she had her name written on her forehead! (Unless she did. But no, he was pretty sure Sharon wouldn't allow that from any of her kids.)

He looked around some more. There were a couple of older women, two who must have been well above thirty, and he ruled them out. A girl in a bright pink sweatshirt with faded jeans looking like she just stepped out of a 70s music video or something. Definitely not. A young woman with dark hair looking in the window of a newsstand - maybe. But she turned around, and she was older than he'd thought and Asian. Another young woman was sitting in a chair a few yards away, eating a bag of chips; she looked about the right age, and it wasn't like Rusty could look for a family resemblance with her face half-turned away and the bangs covering half of it anyway. He took a step in her direction…

… then he saw her. He'd only missed her because she'd been hidden behind the large magazine shelf. Of course he'd know her when he saw her. Even though her back was mostly to him, she had the same copper straight hair, down to the middle of her back, and even the same kind of suit Sharon always wore. Same straight-shoulder stance. When she turned around, she even had a pair of tiny glasses.

He made a beeline for her. "Hi. Are you Katie?"

The young woman's eyebrows arched, she looked taken aback at the abrupt question. "Excuse me?"

Up close, she looked more different from Sharon, obviously. Same hair, same kind of outfit, but her features were all her own and her eyes were brown. Her voice sounded foreign too, and very, very adult. And a little confused.

"Uhm. I'm Rusty …"

She bit her lips and cocked her head, now a little amused. "Are you?"

Rust was growing more uncomfortable under her scrutiny; his insecurities came rushing back. "Uh, yeah, I think your uhm, brother said we're supposed to meet…?"

She looked intrigued.

"Rusty?"

A different voice came from behind, and he turned.

The girl in the pink sweatshirt was walking (or bouncing) up to them, and she stopped a couple of feet away.

"Sorry, I heard right, didn't I? You're Rusty?" She held out her hand, and had to pull the sleeve up a little because it reached nearly to the tips of her fingers. "I'm Katie."

Rusty's jaw dropped.

The girl had multi-shaded dirty blonde hair that definitely didn't occur by itself in nature, and it was pinned sorta-halfway-up but so carelessly as though she'd done it while she was still asleep. Her pepto-bismol pink hoodie hurt Rusty's eyes, and her jeans had at least three tiny holes that he could see. She was looking at him with bright blue eyes and he could've put her age anywhere from late teens to early thirties because it was impossible to tell.

She also only had one earring, and it looked kind of like a ladybug mating with a dolphin.

"You're Sharon's daughter."

"Yup. Katie. Like I said."

He still had trouble closing his mouth, and she was looking at him a little curiously.

"… Sharon Raydor's daughter," he repeated doubtfully. "Are you sure?"

She burst into laughter. "Pretty sure." And then she cocked her head, and gave him a smile, and his jaw dropped again because just like that, she was looking exactly like Sharon. The way the skin crinkled at the corners of her eyes, the light behind those eyes as they looked at him with a sort of affection that really shouldn't have been there since he was basically a stranger, the line of her nose, her forehead, her smile, everything.

Rusty couldn't stop staring.

Katie sighed at his expression. "Seriously, you don't believe me? How about this," she held up a finger and cleared her throat: "Rusty..."

He gasped audibly; her voice had just become the same as Sharon's, soft and low and… if he hadn't been looking right at this girl he might've thought it was Sharon speaking.

"I understand that you might have some concerns, however –" (even the tone was the same!) " –let me assure you that I'm exactly who I say I am. And the only way for this common effort to succeed is if you. trust. me."

He managed to stop gaping long enough to say: "Wow." He was baffled. "How do you do that?"

"It's a mother/daughter thing," she grinned. "I used to get a kick out of confusing grandma when she…called…" Katie trailed off at the inadvertent reminder of why they were meeting in person in the first place.

He grimaced, suddenly uncomfortable, too. "Uh… sorry about, you know… your grandfather."

She sighed. "Thanks." She passed a hand through hair, dislodging even more strands from the barely-there braid, then after a second, looked at him again: "So, do you believe me now or would you like to see five-point identification?"

Rust cleared his throat."No, I'm good." He still couldn't quite stop gawking at her, because in none of his several dozen scenarios had he imagined Sharon's daughter looking anything but a version of – well, Sharon! Or maybe Jack, but this girl in front of him right now looked more like a version of… confetti.

"You know, most people are a little more diplomatic about staring," she deadpanned.

"Right – sorry." He rubbed his neck a little uncomfortably. "Where do you work?" He paused."Let me guess. You're an…artist."

Katie laughed again. "I'm a business consultant, of sorts, actually."

And Rusty laughed a little, too, until he realized… "Wait, you're not joking?"

"Nope."

"You're a business consultant."

She nodded.

"Dressed…like that?"

Katie arched an eyebrow. "Who made you the fashion police?" She gave him a no-nonsense narrow-eyed look, but her lips pursed in amusement as she did so, and suddenly she was all Sharon again. "If you must know, I had to get on a plane at six a.m. to make it over here in time, and it wasn't exactly a well-planned trip and I happen to like being comfortable on airplanes." Both eyebrows went up expectantly this time. "Satisfied?"

Rusty nodded slowly, and continued to study her with a curious gaze. "So you're Sharon's daughter."

She nodded, and mirrored: "And you're Sharon's… "

"…charge," Rusty defined a little uncertainly. "For now, at least. Probably not for long…." The last words had been a glum mutter, as his mood plummeted at the thought of everything that must have been going on beyond the airport doors.

Katie gave him a sympathetic gaze. "Look, I don't know a lot about the situation… but you seem like a good kid. I'm sure things will work out."

"I am not a 'good kid'," he grumbled, complete with air commas. "And I'm not a kid."

She bit her lower lip. "In any case, you're doing this for Mom," she waved a hand at their general surroundings, "so you can't be all bad."

Not unless one considered that Rusty was the reason why Sharon couldn't go up to Minnesota in the first place… He sighed. "So how many laws are we breaking right now exactly?"

Katie looked up toward the gate, which had just shifted to 'boarding'. "Actually… on the way over here I realized that this might not be such a good idea. Oh by the way, can I have Ricky's documents? If we get caught, it's better if they don't find them on you."

Wordlessly, Rust handed over the printed out ticket and the driver's license that had gotten him through the ID check point. The phrase 'if we get caught' had chilled his blood, because not only would he be in trouble, but Sharon might too and she'd be so mad and disappointed and…

"I said 'if'," Katie read his mind, "but we're not going to get caught, because we're not going to board this plane. I don't think Ricky and I were thinking straight last night when we thought this part up."

"Yeah, not that I disagree, but how exactly are we supposed to get to Minnesota, then?" He frowned doubtfully. "I hate to break it to you but I can't fly."

She gave him a dry glance. "I got us another plane."

Rusty's eyebrows flew up. "You 'got us' a plane?" He pulled back a little. "When you said 'consultant', did you mean for like, the CIA or something?"

Katie laughed again. "Or something! No, smart-ass… I guess Mom never mentioned Uncle Paul…?"

By the time Sharon and Andy made it to the airport, she had worked herself up into an ever worse state of panic, and he could barely keep up with her as she rushed to inquire about the status of Ricky's flight; when they found out that it had indeed taken off, her expression had cycled through about a hundred emotions in the span of a few seconds, disappointment, anxiety, disbelief, hope, and confusion and everything in between. There was, of course, no way to check that Rusty was on it, and his phone was still off and her daughter's phone was off and Ricky hadn't had anything new to tell her even though he'd picked up, and finally Andy had to pull her to a side, and give her a serious look:

"Listen, Sharon… you can stay here and wonder all day about how this happened… but the way I see it, there's only one thing to do right now. And you can worry about all this and the consequences… another time."

She looked at him in silence for a moment, eyes wide, and then she conceded with a nod and a shaky sigh.

Andy squeezed her shoulder. "Hold on for a minute." And he walked back up to the airline counter, flashed his badge, and said. "We need a ticket on the next flight out to Minneapolis…or anywhere nearby." He'd seen her disbelieving expression when he'd pulled out the badge, but if this wasn't one of those times that was worth it, nothing was.

It took a few moments for the airline employee to look for flights matching his criteria, but finally she spoke: "There's a two-fifteen flight, that's the soonest I can give you…we have a twelve-ten to Rochester, but it's a one-stop and it'll probably end up taking longer…"

"Two-fifteen is fine," Andy agreed. That left just about three hours, during which Sharon probably wouldn't have time to go home and pack or anything, but she might have time to eat something and unwind a little.

He glanced back at her, waiting a small distance away, arms crossed nervously around her middle, that preoccupied expression in her eyes. And on an impulse, he turned back to the airline employee: "Any chance you have two seats on that plane?"

A/N: I can NOT believe it took twelve chapters to get to this point. This story grew a lot more than I'd anticipated! But, here we are, finally ready to move the action to Sharon's parents' house, and meet the rest of her family. Most of the scenes from now on will be from Rusty's perspective, as he discovers her family and background and gets to see Sharon in a totally different context. I'm very excited to get to that, and I hope you guys are, too!

Thanks so much for reading. Let me know what you think! :)