Break-up Advice - Chapter 2
by Kadi
Rated: T
There were things that Rusty Beck would like to know, and things that he needed to know. Then there were things that Rusty wished he could forget, and wipe out of his brain completely. At the moment, he was really not wanting to know why Sharon was acting so oddly, but at the same time, he kind of did. It was just so weird, and not in that oh so pensive way that indicated something was wrong. No, this was decidedly not that. He knew what that looked like. It was one of those things he'd like to forget. Rusty figured he could go his entire life without seeing what Sharon looked like when something was just so wrong and the world was insane and spinning out of control. He had been there, they had done that. He was good with avoiding a repeat.
What he was faced with instead was Sharon staying out a lot of odd hours, and that was so unlike her. When he asked, she always managed to change the subject on him, or give him some sort of vague excuse about having too much work and not enough time to get it all done. Then there were the hushed phone calls behind closed doors. He was trying very hard not to pry or be overly nosy, but if she wasn't acting so completely unusual, he wouldn't need to pry. It was really all Sharon's fault, when he thought about it.
At least, he thought it was until he found out exactly what was going on. Then he wished he hadn't. There were really things that he didn't need to know, and suddenly he was so very sorry for being curious in the first place. He was also sorry about staying up way past his bedtime, and really, Sharon was right. It was detrimental, mainly because now there were certain images burned into the backs of his eyelids, and really, he never needed to see that.
He didn't need to know anything ever again. He would never be curious again. If he could just get those images out of his head, he swore to any power that was listening, he would mind his own business from now on. That was because nothing could be more horrifying, more embarrassing, and so completely traumatizing as walking through the condo at two in the morning and finding Sharon making out with Lieutenant Flynn on the sofa. Who knew that old people even still did that. Wasn't it dangerous? Someone could break a hip, and oh god, why did Sharon have to want to talk about everything?
Rusty squinted at her, where she stood in his open door and held up his hands, as if to ward her off. "Please don't talk about it. I don't need to talk about it. Let's pretend it never happened. I'm begging you, Sharon. Just forget I ever left this room tonight."
"Rusty." She looked mildly pensive, and a little embarrassed. Still, she smiled at him. At him. He had totally just ruined the end of her date, and she was smiling at him. She was going to talk about it.
Rusty sighed. Yep, here they went. It was talking time. He slumped on the edge of his bed and hung his head. "It's okay. I'm scarred for life, but I'm not upset."
Now she was giving him that amused, warm smile, the one he didn't get to see very often, but was always reserved for when he was being difficult and truthful at the same time. "Claiming to be scarred for life would indicate a level of upset. Rusty, I'm sorry—"
"Oh my god." He shoved his hands into his hair. "Please, don't be sorry. We really don't have to talk about it, and I'm totally not upset. It's okay, I promise. I just don't want to discuss it because, seriously Sharon? Ew!"
She pressed her lips together to suppress a smile. Her eyes were dancing with amusement at his plight. "If you change your mind you'll let me know?"
"I won't, but sure." He scowled at her. "If you laugh at me right now, Sharon. I swear…"
"I'm not," she promised immediately. "I'm amused at the situation, but not at you. It is somewhat ridiculous. I'm also very sorry. I didn't think you'd still be up at this hour, and it was thoughtless of us to get so—"
"You understand this is the part where I make you pay for therapy, right?" Rusty looked skyward and sighed. "Vast amounts of extreme therapy, and possibly even the kind with hypnosis, maybe even electric shock… just to get that image out of my head forever."
Sharon rolled her eyes at him. She decided that he was okay if he was being sarcastic about it. "Good night, Rusty." She reached for the door to pull it closed behind her.
"Hey, Sharon…" Rusty chewed on the corner of his lip. "Did Lieutenant Flynn already go home?"
"No he did not." She arched a brow at him. "Good night, Rusty."
"Oh god." He fell face first into his pillows and groaned, loudly.
The following morning, the Lieutenant was gone, and he found Sharon in the kitchen nursing a cup of coffee while she gazed out the patio doors at the city. Rusty moved quickly into the kitchen and pulled the orange juice from the fridge. He noticed there was breakfast on the table. He didn't want to think about how long she had been awake, or why. Instead, he sat down at the table with his juice.
"Is this like, a thing now?" Rusty almost cursed himself for asking, because really, he did not need to know. The thing was, he couldn't always stop his mouth from forming words.
She tilted her head and glanced back at him. She had her cup cradled in both hands. Sharon turned slowly and hummed at him. "Does it matter?"
Rusty was reminded, again, that it was none of his business. Except that he lived here too, and she kept telling him that he had a place in her life, which meant that it was his business. "Not especially," He said. "I just wondered if we were going to have to work out a system. You know, sock on the door, or something." He smirked at her, because really, traumatizing though it might be, if he couldn't have any fun with it, then it was really going to suck knowing all of this.
With her lips pursed, she walked to the table and eased into a seat. "Rusty, I need you to understand, I'd like this kept discreet. My private life is—"
"Private." He rolled his eyes at her. "Seriously, got that part, Sharon. I don't even want to know, who am I going to tell? You really don't have to worry about it. Secret is safe with me."
"Thank you," she smiled warmly at him. "And I'll make an effort to refrain from further… scarring you for life."
"That would be great." He watched her rise and walk into the kitchen to refill her cup. "And I promise, I won't tell anyone…" Rusty paused, he grinned deviously. "After I tell Provenza, and Julio, and Buzz…" He ducked the dishtowel that was tossed at his head. "It's only fair that I warn them, Sharon. No one should have to see what I saw. I already emailed Shannon…" He grinned widely.
Sharon's eyes narrowed. "I suggest you get it out of your system now, Rusty. I'm only going to be willing to allow you so much leeway."
"Yeah, I wonder if that's what you said to Flynn too." Rusty discovered something else in that moment. Sharon could seriously throw and watching her squirm was fun.
Over time, Rusty got used to the changes. It wasn't so completely weird anymore. There were still hushed conversations behind closed doors, but that was just fine with him. Now that he knew, he began realizing that Lieutenant Flynn was around an awful lot, and after the little reveal he seemed to be around a lot more often. It wasn't exactly all the time, not at first anyway. Rusty just noticed that he showed up some evenings, or was still there some mornings as he got ready for school.
That lawyer friend of Sharon's was around a lot more, and those conversations seemed more pensive. Sharon wasn't usually very happy after one of them, but they didn't talk about it. Rusty had learned his lesson. No more being nosy for him, he figured Sharon would tell him when she was ready. Besides, he had a pretty good idea. Sharon had a boyfriend, and her lawyer friend was around? Rusty wasn't an idiot. He was thinking so long Jack!
Then one morning a few weeks later, Rusty realized that Flynn was always around. He couldn't remember the last time the guy had gone home, like to his own place, but wondered if it really mattered so much. Sharon was actually happy, and it wasn't so bad. He was actually kind of okay, and once the weirdness factor wore off, they got along alright. Rusty couldn't complain too much, he was going off to school soon. Even if it was only USC, Sharon was insisting that he have the college experience. He gave up fighting her on that. She also insisted he wasn't moving out, he was only moving in to the dorm come fall, and he would be home every holiday and break. Sharon could be so spastic. Rusty went along with it because it made her happy, and really, he just liked that life was normal now.
Even when normal meant doing mundane things, like not being a complete spastic moron when one of Sharon's kids was in town. It was easy with Shannon, except when she tried to drag him shopping with her. For the most part they liked the same things, and really, Rusty was sure she just liked having someone around to torment, the way her brother had tormented her. The other one, Ricky, reminded him of Buzz. He had that, I'm tolerating you because I have to air about him, at least in the beginning. Now when he blew through town he was more or less okay, which wasn't often. He was some kind history nut, and he moved around a lot. Mostly in deserts and jungles, playing in the mud and the dirt. Rusty didn't get it, but whatever, he didn't really have to get it.
Rusty decided it wasn't such a hardship to keep the sarcasm to a minimum while Sharon's son was in town. She was being spastic enough for both of them, what with the whole boyfriend thing. Ricky was having a great deal of fun at his mother's expense, so Rusty was reining it in.
He was feeling charitable, so he even held his tongue when he and Sharon found Jack loitering around in the parking garage of their building. When Sharon told him to go inside, in that voice, Rusty cast an uneasy look at Jack and only considered disobeying for about a second. He took the grocery bags out of the car and reflected silently on how she had gone from laughing to stone in less than a second. He wondered if she'd still feel like making dinner after dealing with Jack, and when the sickening smell of cheap whiskey turned his stomach as he walked past the man, he figured the answer was probably no. Ricky was expected, and so was Flynn, and that was going to be all kinds of awkward all on its own, but now, now they had moved well beyond awkward and into the land of drama. The unavoidable kind, the kind that really sucked.
Rusty sighed as he trudged inside, through the lobby. His stomach was churning. That feeling was back, the one that had seemed almost constant while they were waiting for the Stroh trial to be over with. The sick, helpless feeling he got every time another letter came in. The feeling he got when he knew something bad was going to happen, like when his mom was late getting home and he knew he was probably going to get locked out of the apartment, or she was going to bring some loser home. His stomach cramped and his chest ached. He wondered if going inside was really the right thing to do, but going back might not be so great either, and really he didn't need Sharon mad at him on top of everything. He wasn't trying to snoop, and this is why he didn't like drama. And maybe normal wasn't so normal after all.
Inside the lobby, Rusty spotted Ricky standing near the main elevators, talking to Gavin. Why the lawyer was there, he didn't know, and right at that moment, Rusty didn't really care. He brightened considerably, and the sick feeling in his stomach lifted as the tight knot churning in his gut started to loosen up. He didn't have to go back out there, he could go upstairs and start dinner, and be all kinds of helpful. He was never so happy to see Ricky in all his life, and was really thinking the guy wasn't so bad at all, not right in that moment.
"Hey." Rusty swallowed hard and stopped near them. The canvas bags holding their groceries felt heavy in his hands, the straps were tugging at his palms, only made worse by the fact that they were starting to sweat. "You're early," and he didn't mean to sound so excited by that prospect.
Ricky's eyes narrowed. The kid was looking slightly pale and just a little bit green. "My meeting finished early, and look who I found loitering around. What did you do? You're not looking so great. Maybe we can get you out of it before Mom finds out."
"I've negotiated more than one grounding," Gavin smirked. "This one would know," he jerked his head toward Ricky. "How much its going to cost you depends on the crime. Are we talking bed without dessert, a weekend with no internet, or are we playing for the big stakes here. If you dented the car, you're on your own. I don't think I can get you out of that one."
"I wish." A dented fender was actually seeming like not so bad a thing at the moment. "Sharon drove, anyway… I didn't do anything. Or maybe I'm about to. I don't know. Whatever, I don't care, she can ground me. Look, your dad is here," he blinked nervously at Ricky. "He was waiting in the garage, and I'm pretty sure he was drunk. Smelled like he'd had an entire fifth of whiskey, the cheap stuff too. Sharon made me come—" Rusty stopped talking. He almost lost his footing. The lawyer had practically tossed his briefcase aside and lunged, sprinting toward the garage exit. Ricky shoved past him too, and that was what had nearly knocked him over. "In," he finished and turned. The sick feeling returned tenfold and Rusty chewed on his bottom lip. Okay, so maybe being grounded was the least of his worries. It only took half a second for him to make the decision, he dropped the bags near the wall and jogged after them.
Gavin reached him first. He was the taller of the pair, and while older, he was vain enough to admit that he spent hours every week working out. He was glad of that, particularly seeing as how pudgy Jack had gotten since the last time he'd seen the reprobate. Gavin didn't stop, and he didn't think, which was unusual for him. He grabbed the older man by his shoulders and spun him away. He threw him as hard as he dared, and when the intoxicated loser got tangled in his own feet and went down, Gavin smiled with some amount of grim satisfaction. "I warned you what would happen if I caught you in this state again," he stated, pointing at the other man.
The eery calm was a little more disturbing than the sudden sprinting had been, or even the way he'd tossed Jack across the garage like so much garbage. Rusty stared at them, wide-eyed. He'd always thought of Gavin as a bit of a goofball, strangely more elegant and not the same caliber of goofball as maybe Flynn and Provenza when they were pulling one of their stunts. The guy giggled, he wore designer suits, and when he stopped by with dinner it was usually sushi, for crying out loud. The large, looming guy that was vibrating with so much fury was decidedly not someone that Rusty had ever seen before. He blinked owlishly, and decided it was better if he stayed on the outer edge of the action.
Ricky had moved to his mother, who appeared more irritated than anything. He could deal with irritated. It was preferable to what they could have found, had the incident escalated, which it was close to doing. Already his father had trapped her against the side of her car, and was screaming at her when they interrupted the argument. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," she said simply, although she touched his arm and gave it a comforting squeeze as she stepped away from the car. Sharon sighed and adjusted the strap of her purse on her shoulder. "Gavin, enough." She reached for his arm and tugged him back. "It's fine. Jack was just leaving. He won't be coming back. Come on," she tugged on his arm again.
"He just assaulted me!" Jack was attempting to get up, and not having much luck. "I want to file a report. I'm calling the police." He started patting down his pockets, looking for his phone. When he found it, the face was shattered, from where he'd landed on it. "You broke my phone you son-of-a—"
"Jack." Sharon's voice cracked through the parking garage. "Leave," she ordered. "Unless you'd like to be arrested for public intoxication, I suggest that you go, now. Otherwise the only one here that will be filing a report will be me."
"You can't do that!" He sneered at her. "I live here! Ask any judge in the land, that little hovel of yours and everything in it is community property. You can't arrest me for anything. I'm on my property."
"You're in a public parking garage." Gavin was slowly smoothing out the cuffs of his suit. He swept a hand down his tie and the lapels of his very expensive Hugo Boss suit. "Attached to a building in which the woman from whom you are legally separated is currently residing. The condo was purchased after the separation. You could argue community property all day long, and a lesser lawyer might lose against you, but I think we both know that I am not lesser. If you'd like to take this to court, by all means. I dare you." He flicked imaginary dust off his jacket with the back of his left hand. "In fact, I look forward to it. Just so you're aware, that day in court will come after the police have been phoned and it's gone on record that you are intoxicated, quite a bit over the legal limit I would wager, and that you've attempted to assault your wife." Gavin paused, while his eyes narrowed. "Again. But, go right ahead, face me in court." He clasped his hands in front of him and stared down his nose at the other man.
Again. Rusty's eyes snapped to Sharon and widened. He saw her stiffen, but make no other outward sign that Gavin's revelation meant anything at all. "Sharon?"
She hadn't realized that he was there. Her jaw clenched and she grimaced. "Rusty, I thought I asked you to go inside," she sounded stilted, pained. Sharon shook her head and turned away from Jack. She strode toward him and lay a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go, there's nothing that you need to see here. Richard."
It wasn't until she touched him that he realized that her hand was shaking. She really had looked mostly stiff, in that way that usually indicated there was a major silent treatment coming on. Not that he'd had one of those directed at him recently, or in quite some time, come to think of it. Rusty swallowed hard and nodded, a bit convulsively. He was really wanting to ask, but his power of speech seemed to have evaded him for the moment. Mainly because normal was seeming entirely too normal now. He let Sharon maneuver him inside, and together they gathered the grocery bags and Gavin's briefcase. He realized when Ricky took one of the bags out of his hand, that he had followed them.
Ricky took the other bag from his mother, and reached past her to hit the button for the elevator. He ushered the two of them in ahead of him and followed them into the elevator. He cast a sideways glance at his mother and shook his head. "He's drinking again?"
"So it seems." She stared forward, and chose not to elaborate. Expanding on all of Jackson's many faults and flaws could take all night, and she really didn't want to think about it. Delving into that led down a path that she had chosen not to revisit again, and it was really a vicious cycle. She would have to consider all the reasons for his behavior and then she would only feel guilty, and it never seemed to fail, that she ended up feeling sorry for him in the end. That was the crux of Jack's ability to manipulate. He was a typical addict, the fault was never his. Sharon's jaw clenched again. There was a headache building behind her eyes, and the tension was only matched by the knot twisting in her stomach. When the elevator opened, she laid a hand on Rusty's back and propelled him forward. He was being strangely silent, and that in itself was worrisome. She dropped her hand only to dig her keys out of her purse and unlock the door. She held it open for the boys and followed them inside.
Ricky carried the bags to the kitchen and laid them on the counter. He wasn't at all surprised when his mother made the turn and walked down the hall to her bedroom. When he heard the door close he sighed. He looked at Rusty and shook his head. "It's a long story."
He cast a worried look down the hall and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Really? Because… what the hell?" That seemed to sum it up. Rusty walked over and stood at the bar. He shook his head, and shrugged his shoulders, trying to loosen the tension there. "That was…"
"Mom would call it unfortunate." Ricky started unloading bags, for lack of anything better to do. "That was my dad, I'm so proud," he drawled sarcastically. "I don't know what she's told you, or if she's told you anything. She's a little… you know."
"Try a lot," Rusty replied. "She's told me some stuff, but mostly, it's none of my business is the answer that I get."
"Sounds familiar." Ricky folded one of the canvas bags and then leaned against the opposite side of the bar. "I guess our reaction was a little extreme. It's not like this happens all the time."
"He wasn't like this when he was here last summer. He seemed…" Rusty tilted his head. "Well, he was weird, and kind of greasy, you know. But it wasn't like that." He chewed on the inside of his cheek and wondered if he really wanted to know or not.
"It's not always. I'm not sure how long he's been drinking, as far as we knew, Dad's been sober for years. The gambling was the only thing he never really gave up. He's not all that great most of the time, but when he's in the bottle, he can be a different person completely. Not so much with the cheerful. Especially if he's even the least upset with mom."
Rusty shifted nervously. He scuffed his shoe against the carpet. "What did Gavin mean when he said again? It doesn't seem like Sharon that she would let him come around at all if he had…"
"People are complicated," Ricky said quietly. "Relationships are even more complicated. It's one of the things mom doesn't like to talk about. She's always had a weak spot where my dad was concerned. I guess it's pretty typical. Dad left when we were pretty young, and I guess it was part of the whole Catholic thing that she kept letting him come back, even when it was obvious that she didn't love him anymore. It was all guilt and duty and responsibility. Then one night he came in drunk, and I guess she'd had enough. She told him to leave and not bother coming back, at least not until he'd figured out how to get his life straight. She wasn't footing the bill anymore, not for the gambling, or the booze, or the women." Ricky ran a hand across his forehead. "Dad tossed her around a little. It was just the once. Gavin drew up the papers on the separation, and it was maybe four years before we saw him again. He was sober, but he needed money. Mom sent him packing again, but he'd show up again at least once a year. Usually, okay, always when he needed something. A place to stay, money, you name it. At some point mom initiated the two night rule. She didn't want to feel guilty, or feel sorry for him, but dad has a way of swinging that vote in his direction. Nothing altogether too traumatic, but that's our story in a nutshell."
"And now you know."
Rusty jumped, and looked behind him. He hadn't heard Sharon come out of her room. He rubbed his palms against his jeans. He gave her a guilty look. "I'm sorry, I didn't… I just…" He fidgeted miserably. "Sharon, I just wanted to understand why it was so… so."
"Yes, I know." She walked past him toward the kitchen. "Thank you, honey." She nudged Ricky aside, but her hand stayed on his arm for a moment longer than was really necessary. "Rusty, this isn't something I want you worrying about. It's a non-issue. What happened today really has no bearing on anything. Jack's behavior was unfortunate, but he isn't going to be bothering us anymore."
"Seriously?" Rusty just stared at her, and honestly that was such a Sharon thing to say, but was she being completely for real right now? "So what? Your husband shows up completely wasted, and everyone acts like he's just so dangerous, and when we get there, he's basically in your face, and you're calling that a non-issue. Like, really?"
Sharon looked skyward and drew a deep breath, which she let out slowly. She gripped the edge of the counter, although the urge to shove her hands into her pockets was almost too strong to ignore. She didn't want to dwell on the incident, honestly, it was a non-issue. Nothing had happened, and even now she could trust that Gavin was guaranteeing that she wouldn't have to deal with Jack again, because really, they both knew that she would either end up feeling sorry for him… or shooting him. Neither of which was a very good option. "Rusty…" She exhaled again. "It's not an issue. Not anymore. Gavin is already handling my divorce, and you know, it's just not that important. I'm not going to allow myself to worry about it, and I would really like it if you wouldn't either. The past is the past. Remember?"
They couldn't change it. They couldn't rewrite it. It was what it was, and all they could do was learn from their mistakes, their actions, and move on. Rusty sighed. "I'm sorry," he said, and meant it, because really he hadn't wanted to pry and he didn't like that she was looking so many kinds of miserable right now. Even if she was trying to hide it. "I guess that kind of spoiled the night, huh?" It was going to be all kinds of awkward, but he knew that she was looking forward to it, in that really weird way that was completely Sharon.
Her lips pursed. Yes, her mood had taken a rather sour turn, and while she was trying to recapture the earlier lightness, she supposed that wouldn't actually be possible. "No," Sharon tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "I don't think that it has to, not if we don't allow it to." She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Rusty, please, don't worry about this. I'm not."
He wasn't ready to let go of it yet. Maybe he should be, but Rusty had one last card to play. "If everything is so okay, and not such a problem, then why do you still look like it is?"
This time, even Ricky winced and stepped away. He walked around the end of the bar and slipped onto a stool. It really was the better part of self preservation to stay out of it. He had been down this road with her a number of times himself. It was always a dead end street, but he supposed the kid would have to learn, at some point. Ricky ran a hand over his hair and cast a look at his mother, that was probably a little too knowing, but he at least managed to not look smug.
Her eyes narrowed for just a moment. She glanced at her son and sighed. When had they outnumbered her? "Rusty…" Sharon closed her eyes for a moment. "Damn it." She pressed her lips together and shook her head. "I'm trying very hard not to dwell on a situation that I can't change. I'd really like it if you could help by just letting it go."
Yep, she was good at the guilt thing. Rusty climbed onto a stool and slumped against the bar. "Yeah, okay." His face screwed up, for just a moment. "What about Flynn?"
Sharon's shoulders slumped, just a bit. "That's another conversation that I'm not looking forward to, Rusty. One that needs to be had, but you know, and I can't stress this enough… it really isn't for you to worry about. I'm sorry that you had to witness any of that at all, but it's really not an issue anymore. It's over, I promise."
"I'd say it is." Gavin strode into the apartment, looking rather pleased with himself. "Well, that was refreshing, as always." He crossed over to the kitchen and looked around. His nose wrinkled. "You aren't actually going to cook, are you? I could call Marcel's. Sweetie, let me dial." He reached for his phone.
Sharon sniffed. "You've never complained about my cooking before. I happen to like cooking."
"Yes, but I can dial like no one's business." Gavin smirked as he demonstrated, hitting the speed dial for his favorite French restaurant."
"Sharon." Rusty looked mildly panicked.
She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, he won't hide any snails in yours this time." She turned her back on them and began putting everything away.
Ricky leaned toward Rusty. "He probably will," he muttered. "Any sign of weird stuff and I have Papa Murphy's on speed dial."
Gavin made a sniffing sound and snapped his fingers at them. "Just because you are uncultured. Sharon, sweetie, really. I would have expected better."
"Yes I know." She feigned a sigh. "Ricky is stubborn, but the other one is still new. There's time." With the groceries put away, she took the kettle out and filled it.
"Oh no there's not," Rusty was quick to correct her. "I tried it last time, because you two ganged up on me. It's not happening again."
"Ouch." Ricky winced sympathetically. "Did you get the, we must always try new things, speech?" He shook his head. "I can't believe they're still doing it. You know, it's kind of creepy."
"Uncultured and smart mouthed." Gavin lifted his nose into the air and took his phone into the living room so that he could place the order.
"That's a speech they use?" Rusty tossed a disbelieving look at his guardian. "Sharon!"
"Hm?" She smiled at him, and this time it reached her eyes. "Well, you did at least try it, didn't you, Rusty? I would say that it was rather successful, honey."
"I wouldn't," Gavin chimed in. At the knock on the door he walked over, phone still to his ear, and pulled it open. It wouldn't be Jack, he'd handled that well enough. They were still expecting the other one. He pulled the door wide and stepped back when he saw that it was, in fact, Lieutenant Flynn. "Speaking of smart mouthed…"
His brows rose. "We all need to be famous for something right?" Andy stepped into the apartment and pushed the door closed behind him. He looked around, and while Gavin looked like his usually unflappable self, that he was even there was somewhat curious. Sharon's son seemed to be more or less okay, but he didn't really have anything to compare it to. The kid, on the other hand, looked a bit pale and somewhat strained. Then there was Sharon. She was busying herself pulling down mugs for tea, but he saw through the smile she gave him. She was brittle around the edges, and her face was a bit drawn. He shrugged out of his jacket and stopped to hang it up before moving further into the apartment. "Everything okay?"
Rusty and Ricky shared a glance before they both swiveled around on their stools and stepped away from the kitchen. "So, chess huh?" Ricky asked.
"You play?" Rusty started walking toward his room.
"A little. Maybe we should see if you're as good as I've been told," he followed him, the both of them making a hasty retreat.
"Because that's not the least bit suspicious," Flynn drawled.
Sharon chuckled quietly. "They get points for trying." She opened another cupboard and took down a box of tea bags. "We've decided on French. Or, actually, Gavin decided. It looks like we have one more for dinner, I hope you don't mind."
"Nope," he nodded his head to where the lawyer was now ordering their dinner, in French. "About that?"
She sighed. "I'd ask if we could talk about it later, but I'd hate to waste a good retreat." She reached for the kettle when it began to whistle and poured water into three mugs. Sharon glanced toward the living room, then nodded her head toward the balcony. "Outside?"
"Okay." She was worrying him now. He took one of the mugs when she offered it, then watched her take one and offer the third to Gavin. Andy opened the balcony door and held it while she joined him. He followed her into the early evening sun, which had only just started to turn the sky to scarlet as it sank toward the horizon. Andy hitched his hip against the balcony rail and held the mug in one hand, watching while she cradled hers, and seemed to struggle. He'd learned it was usually better to just be patient, even if patience wasn't a particular virtue of his. The balcony wasn't long enough for her to pace, for that he was grateful.
There were things in her past that few knew about, secrets which she had guarded so carefully over the years. Even her parents didn't know the entire story of what had taken place during that last, awful fight with Jack, the precursor to their legal separation. Her children knew only because they had been there, and Gavin had already been a friend, and just out of the City Attorney's office and building a reputation for himself in private practice. She had gone to him because she trusted him, implicitly, to keep that secret. And he had. If Jack hadn't decided to act seven kinds of a fool that evening, it was likely that the secret would have remained in the past, where it belonged. Sharon had never thought of herself as battered, or abused, rather just unfortunate to be in a bad marriage with a man too self involved to care about those that his choices were hurting. She worked hard to pull herself and her children out of the hole he created for them. The part of her that was duty bound to the vows they'd taken had hoped for the best, until there was no more hope to be found.
"You're still married to a man you haven't lived with in twenty years, and you're giving me breakup advice right now?"
Those words echoed in her head, even now. Even after starting the process of following her own advice. Probably because she knew that she had waited far too long. There was a part of her that was frightened this evening, but it was about those she cared for, and how Jack's behavior would effect them. It was one of the many reasons why she never wanted Rusty to become attached to him. He would be less likely to be disappointed by someone he hardly knew.
The feel of fingers brushing her hair aside made her smile. She turned her head toward him and closed her eyes. "Hm." She hummed quietly. She didn't want to break the moment, but she could feel his pensive curiosity. Sharon laid her cheek agains this hand, where it rested against her shoulder. "Jack was here. Well, not here, but he was waiting in the parking garage when Rusty and I got home. He's drinking again. How long he's been off the wagon, I couldn't say." She turned and leaned back agains the balcony ledge. "Gavin handled it, but his claws are effectively out now, and if Jack doesn't behave himself, there are going to be some things said that aren't very pleasant."
His hand moved up and down her back, stroking gently. She was wound tighter than she would like anyone to know. Andy's hand slid up beneath the curtain of her hair to rest against the back of her neck. His thumb stroked gently against the graceful column. "Divorce isn't usually a good time, I would expect there to be some unpleasantness. You aren't made of stone, Sharon. It's okay to be effected by it." He tilted his head at her, and his dark eyes roamed the lines of her face, and the way she kept her own gaze focused on the contents of her cup. "Sharon, this isn't new territory for me. I've been there, on the other side, if you remember. I was the drunk, terrible husband. I know what kind of destruction someone can create when they let themselves be lost in the addiction. If you're worried that I—"
"No." She reached up and curled her hand around his wrist. "I know it would take more than that to scare you off, you're much too stubborn." She managed a small smile. "It isn't that at all. I'm actually grateful that you understand, and I'm sure that sounds horrible because I know you'd change your history if you could. No, it's more a matter of wanting the past to stay in the past, reconciling myself to the fact that these things have a way of coming back to haunt us. When Jack is drinking," she explained, with some difficulty, "he isn't as others know him to be. He can be the loud, boisterous person that everyone remembers from his time at the bars, but afterward, when the buzz begins to wane, he can be terribly… unpredictable."
There was a certain amount of regret in her eyes, and just enough hint of embarrassment that he understood where she was going with this line of conversation. Andy slid his arm around her shoulders and tugged her to him. The fraying around the edges, he understood now. She was a strong woman and it was difficult to admit any weakness, but it was hardly weakness at all that she wanted to protect her family, even from those things she couldn't control. "FID isn't here, so I'll go out on a limb and say that either you were able to suppress the urge to reach for your gun, or Jack didn't get the opportunity to be… unpredictable."
"Hm." Sharon smiled into his shoulder. "No, he wasn't given the opportunity," she said quietly. "I was saved by my very own fairy god lawyer." The corners of her mouth twitched and she looked up at him, amusement was beginning to chase away the regret and the sadness. "The first time, I was just so shocked by it, it didn't occur to me until later that I was armed. After that, Jack was more or less out of my life, and well, it was what it was. I think the hardest part about all of this is finally having to admit that I'm just not perfect."
Silence descended on them for just a moment, and then Andy chuckled. He took their tea cups and set them on a small table she kept in the corner of the balcony. Then he cupped her face in his hands and kissed the top of her head. "Yes, I can understand just how much of a hardship that must be, especially for you." He grinned when she rolled her eyes at him. "So now, Gavin is ordering dinner." His lips pursed. "There aren't going to be snails involved this time, right?"
Sharon looked skyward. She drew a breath and let it out slowly. When her gaze fell, it was filled with warmth and affection. "I really am outnumbered these days…"
"Yes, you really are." He smirked playfully. "You love it." Andy ran his hands down her arms. "Okay?"
Her lips pursed and her head tilted. She gave it the consideration that it deserved. "I think so, yes. It's unfortunate that it put a pallor on the evening. I suppose it's a bit of a relief too, no matter what else happens, that door is finally closed. I think I'm only sorry that it took so long."
"When doesn't matter." Andy's arms curled around her. "Time is relative, so long as it's a decision that you're happy with. As long as it's something that you can live with, then how long it took for you to get there… doesn't matter at all, Sharon."
Her smile softened. "Who is being the buffer now?"
"I do what I can." His dark eyes glittered. "It's this book I read. How to keep the little woman—" He trailed off, wincing playfully when she slapped his shoulder. "I like to think of it as doing the opposite of what my partner tells me to do."
Sharon drew back, eyes wide. "He knows?"
Andy's face went ashen, for just a moment. When he saw her lips press together, and the sparkle of mischief in her gaze, his own narrowed. Andy turned away and picked up their cups. He moved back to the door. "I'll get you for that, and your little dog too."
Sharon followed, laughing. "I thought that was my line."
"We'll discuss it," his brows bobbed, drawing another laugh.
"I do so enjoy those little debates," she drawled, sliding into the apartment ahead of him.
"Now, now," Andy cautioned. "You'll make the god lawyer blush."
"Oh honey," Gavin didn't even bother to look up from where he was scrolling through the next day's worth of appointments on his smart phone. "The stories I could tell you… she was a wicked, evil witch long before your lot bestowed that monicker on her. There was this one time, we drove up to Santa Barbara for the weekend, and…"
"Gavin." Sharon glowered until he snapped his mouth shut.
He pouted. "She never lets me have any fun anymore." The lawyer waited until she had her back turned and smirked at Flynn. We'll talk, he mouthed.
Rusty inched down the hallway, ready to retreat again if necessary. The tension which had filled the outer rooms of the condo had dissipated, and he found instead laughter ringing through the living room. Gavin and the Lieutenant had ganged up on Sharon, attempting to tell stories that she was working hard to shut down, much to their amusement. His shoulders relaxed, almost at once, and he let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. So maybe everything wasn't all weird now after all. He made sure to not listen too closely as he walked toward the kitchen to grab two bottles of water. Really, knowing was overrated. He was good with being oblivious. He almost started humming out loud to block out the sounds when he heard Gavin mention something about stilettos and fishnets. Way too much information. Rusty Beck, oblivious guy, that was going to be him from now on. Just as soon as Ricky finished telling him how to get out of Saturday chores…