Break-up Advice - Chapter 4
by Kadi
Rated: T
She never intended to allow herself to become attached. It was flattering, really, the attention that he paid her. The way he watched her when he thought no one noticed. She felt the heat of his gaze, and more than once, she watched his brown eyes darken with interest. He was trouble. Sharon knew that more than anyone. Andy Flynn had an FID jacket miles thick, and he'd caused her more than one headache in that department. Now that she was his boss, the headache hadn't necessarily gone away, as it had changed. He was only too helpful now, and if not for his sincerity, she would have questioned his motives. Then it was with some amount of alarm that she realized exactly what his motives were. The man had a reputation, and here he was, interested in her of all people.
Sharon had every intention of ignoring it. Not completely, of course, because that little thrill that shot through her every time his eyes flickered to her legs was a little rare for a woman her age. Hell, who was she kidding, the man was out of his mind, but there it was. Then Jack swept back into her life, making her feel cheap and embarrassed. The very last thing she needed was to give in, even a little, to the attraction that was quite mutual - when she was honest with herself. She never should have been honest with herself, that was the beginning of it all. Once she acknowledged that Andy wasn't the only one with wandering eyes, it seemed to become inevitable.
There was the wedding. For a woman intent on keeping a lid on this thing that was blossoming between them, she had a funny way of showing it. She just couldn't stand the thought that he'd worked so hard all those years to correct the mistakes he'd made, only to make another, bigger mistake by missing his daughter's wedding. Maybe if Jack's visit hadn't been so fresh in her mind, she could have offered advice instead of volunteering herself as his buffer.
Gavin was right, they could say it was anything but a date, but who were they kidding, right? Then there were the lunches, how many times had he taken her out for a meal with someone who wasn't a sullen teenager? Then, after the security detail was in place around Rusty through the entire ordeal with the letters, he'd drop by with dinner. It was just takeout, but it might as well have been a full course meal.
He took her to the ballet, and that was just so awkward and embarrassing. She went along with it, mainly because she had a hard time saying no to that boyish half grin of his. Sharon realized that she was doomed, but there was very little that she could do about it. Or rather, there was very little that she wanted to do about it. That was the real problem. Her desires were beginning to overpower her common sense.
Going to bed with him was completely out of the question, but she knew, even as she left his bed that first time that it would happen again. That was even before the pep talk she got from Gavin.
Now, weeks later, with her lover moving around her bathroom with as much ease as he would his own… it was easy to recognize the inevitability of it all. The moment she acknowledged that not only was his attention flattering, but that she found him equally as attractive, it was simply bound to happen. As those who cared about her had a penchant for saying, she wasn't made of stone. There were things that Sharon needed. Simple human contact was one of them, and so she hadn't exactly lived a life devoid of sex, even if she was very selective.
A casual fling was the last thing she wanted at this stage in her life. Which was precisely the reason that she resisted it for as long as she did. At least, she liked to think that she was resisting it. Sharon glanced at Andy in the mirror, where she stood drying out her hair. She had borrowed one of his white, v-neck t-shirts. The hem barely reached her at mid-thigh, and rode up a little higher every time she lifted her arms. Her skin was flushed, both from the shower and the heat of the blow dryer. After another minute, she turned it off and put it back on the vanity side rack. She ran her fingers through the thick, dark locks and turned, a smile playing at her lips as she walked back into the bedroom.
Sharon felt his eyes following her as she made her way around the room, picking up discarded clothing and dropping it in the hamper. She was finding it rather amusing that more and more of his things were finding their way to her apartment. She didn't even bother separating them out any longer. His things went into the hamper with hers, and when she was finished, she climbed into bed and got comfortable with a book, while he finished setting out the next day's suit. Sharon watched him from the corner of her eye, amused at the ritual. Her teeth tugged at her bottom lip in amusement. It was no wonder that he was always so well dressed. It was quite the ordered process. To think that people called her neurotic. They really had no idea.
She tugged the hem of the t-shirt down and got comfortable, pillows stacked against the headboard behind her back. That she thought it was adorable he was spending so much time on the choice of which tie to wear with the charcoal, three-piece suit and the dark blue shirt, rather than wondering how so many of his ties had managed to end up taking residence in her closet, gave her pause for only a moment. Sharon shook her head and gazed at him over the top of her glasses. "The red one." She flipped a page in her book, and lowered her gaze to the novel again. It was one of her favorite suits. He always looked good in bold colors. From her periphery, she saw him lift the tie against the suit and shirt again, and then purse his lips in thought. Sharon laughed quietly. She closed the book and folded her hands in her lap while he continued to weigh his options. "For a boy from Jersey who used to be quite the trouble maker, you do spend an awful lot of time accessorizing."
"I have to look good," He draped the red tie over the hanger holding the suit and put the others back in the closet. "It's my boss. It only works in my favor when she's distracted. Evil woman. Misdirection is the key." Andy moved around the room and stopped to plug in his cell phone before he joined her on the bed.
"Is that right?" The corners of her mouth twitched. Sharon opened her book again. "Well, I have it on good authority that your boss is far more impressed by what you're not wearing."
"See, I told you." Andy shook his head. "Evil woman. All those hours of careful planning, wasted. I could have just gone to work naked."
She chortled happily. "Oh, I'm sure that would have gone over very well." Sharon glanced at him again and shook her head. "You spent more time picking out a tie, than it takes me to pick out heels in the morning."
"Of course I did." He leaned back and tucked his hands behind his head, getting comfortable. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and he was simply enjoying watching her. "You'll wear those three-inch danger pumps that you wear all the time lately, because you know they drive me insane." Andy loved to watch the way her eyes flickered, then lit with amusement, even when she was attempting to conceal it. The corners of her eyes crinkled, and she gave him barely a sideways glance, even as her lips pursed in her attempt to prevent a smile. "You'll probably wear one of those short, little black skirts with them, or god forbid, that red dress. I can usually measure what kind of day I'm going to have by the length of your skirt. Above the knee… it's going to be painful, but damn, it'll be worth it. Below the knee, well, you're just just trying to tease me. If it's pants, then I know you're feeling spiteful."
"Fascinating." She couldn't quite curb the amusement in her tone, even when she tried to give him a long, calculating look. "It really is very interesting that you can plan the course of your entire day around what I will or will not be wearing. Although, you should probably know…" Her voice dipped, falling to a low hum, as she leaned over him. "My decision to wear pants doesn't usually stem from a need to be spiteful, but rather it should be an indication that I just didn't feel like shaving my legs."
"You should look at that from my point of view." Andy reached up and slipped his hand into her hair, to cup the back of her head. "Spiteful." He drew her down, the kiss soft, lingering. When she giggled against his mouth, he smiled. Andy marveled that so few ever got to see her as he did. They already knew that she was a strong woman, incredibly independent and undoubtedly stubborn. Intelligent went without saying, and she seemed to manage the administrative side of her job with very little effort. They had seen, as a mother, how fiercely protective she could be, and through Rusty, they had first glimpsed that softer, emotional side. She was also, as Andy had come to know her, funny, with that dry sort of wit that they both had in common. She was passionate and vulnerable, and had at first, seemed easily spooked by the idea that someone might actually want her. She could compartmentalize like no one else that he knew, but moved effortlessly between them, shifting from friend to mother, or from boss to lover, with hardly any notice at all. He had learned to spot that subtle shift, and could define it now by a look, or a change in body language.
Andy tugged the book out of her hand and placed it on the table beside him. Her glasses followed. Then he pulled her to him, curled an arm around her shoulders and drew down to lay against him. His hand swept down her back, to rest against her hip. When his fingers encountered smooth skin beneath the edge of the t-shirt, he groaned. "Evil, spiteful, witch." He felt the laughter rumbling in her chest before the throaty sound reached his ears. When he looked down, her eyes were lit with mischief.
"Don't complain," she said at length, with a teasing upturn of her lips. "You love it." She settled her head against his shoulder and let her arm drape across his stomach. She curled a leg through his, laughing again when he hissed at the feel of her cold toes against his calf.
"No, not it." The hand of the arm curled around her shoulders moved into her hair and cupped the back of her head. He tipped her head back and gazed down, another emotion glittering in his dark eyes. The encounter with Jack had left her open and raw, he could still see it in the vulnerability that had her eyes widening, just for a moment, and her teeth tugging at her bottom lip. His other hand caressed the long expanse of smooth skin from hip to knee, and kept her tucked snugly against him. Andy would have liked to have been there, so that he could have dealt with the idiot himself, but this was a far more enjoyable endeavor than any his troublesome temper could come up with. He bent his head and brushed her lips, tracing them until he felt her relax again. Andy lifted his head, just to gaze down at her again, and smiled at the softer look that had settled over her.
It was left hanging in the air between them. Sharon lifted her hand to his face, fingers feather light against the curve of his jaw. His ties were slowly invading her closet, and yet it never failed to surprise her when his eyes followed her with the deeper emotion. Knowing how hot his emotions ran, it really shouldn't astonish her that he would love just as fiercely, but it always took her breath away, for just a moment. Then she could lose herself in the lighter, golden tones of his brown eyes, and the rest would fall away. Her hand slipped down his chest and came to rest above his heart. "I know," she murmured quietly.
Sharon wriggled closer and ran her lips from jaw to ear in a light caress. Her teeth nipped playfully at his ear. Her tongue traced the curve of his earlobe. She felt the shudder run through him and smiled. Her leg slipped higher, bare inner thigh sliding across the harder muscles of his leg in a way that made her breath catch, and his grip on her tighten. Her own hand was sliding lower, and finding the edge of his t-shirt, it moved beneath. Her fingers skirted across bare skin, the heat of him had her fingertips tingling. He was such a furnace, and she reveled in it. Sharon's hand curled against his chest, she could feel the flutter of his heart beneath her palm. She felt the jump and catch when her low, throaty voice caressed his skin with a quiet, "Love you."
Andy's fingers gripped the back of her head, drew her back to his mouth. The kiss was deep, a mingling of breaths and soft noises as rolled her onto her back and settled over her. His hands pushed into her hair and held her head cradled. With his weight balanced on his elbows, he drew back to gaze down at her. The heavy lidded eyes, the slightly swollen lips. She wound those enticingly long legs that he adored so much around him, causing the corner of his mouth to lift in a half smile. He was struck again, by the incredulity of it all. That he would be here. With her. Like this. She was wound around him in more ways than just the physical. He had always thought her attractive, and that had frustrated him, that he would be distracted with thoughts of her beauty when she was reading him the riot act for some transgression or another. She was frustratingly stubborn, deliberate in everything she did. He couldn't count the number of times in years past that he tried to push her, tempt her toward temper. Thoughts of what she'd look like with passion lighting those alluring green eyes had driven him near to madness. There were times when he was simply cranky, and others when he was downright rude with her. It was no wonder he was driven to anger when she transferred. To be faced with her everyday, and know he wouldn't be able to control the direction of his imagination. He had thought her cold, aloof. She had seemed so dispassionate, intent on getting her way, surely, but he attributed that to her stubborn streak. Now he knew better. She could be wildly wanton, driving him to madness in a number of other ways. Playful and loving. Determined in everything she did.
His head lowered, lips much softer this time, barely a caress at all. She drew a shuddering breath, and it trembled through her. He knew. There was an ache that went so much deeper. She had been bruised, but not broken, she was far too strong for that. Andy's lips teased her, feather light against the corner of her mouth, her cheek, and her closed lids. "Sharon." Her eyes fluttered open, and he was met with so much emotion that it was more fool him for ever thinking her devoid. He had no reason to doubt her, he knew the unpleasantness had shaken her, brought everything she thought buried back to the forefront. They were much too old for the insecurities of youth. That wasn't what bothered her. She would worry for a man that she had once loved, even when there was nothing she could do, and when she had to turn away to preserve anything that might remain. "Don't hide," he said quietly. "Any man that would walk away from you is a damned idiot." The answering light in her eyes, joy tinged with sadness and regret. She would find her balance again, no one would ever know how keenly she ached for the past, even as she embraced the future. Here with him, there was no reason to hide it. "Someday," he said thickly, against her ear, "I'll have to thank him." He felt her arms and legs curl tighter around him, and when their lips met again, he tasted the salt of her tears. If he could do nothing else, he would love her hurt away.
Her neck arched when his lips drifted downward again. His hands swept beneath the t-shirt, drawing a sigh from deep within her. She had seen him bare knuckled and seething with fury, but his hands danced across her skin with such lightness, so gentle it stole her breath. When his tongue traced the hollow of her throat, and his teeth grazed across her collarbone, she sighed his name. Sharon thought of the ties invading her closet, and wondered at how simple it would be to make room for more, for just a moment, before his mouth slipped lower and she stopped thinking completely.
Hours later, Sharon woke to some undefinable sound. Andy was still wrapped around her, and she lay, ears pricking toward the sound. When it came again, she eased from beneath the arm that was draped across her and slipped off the bed. She scooped up one of their discarded t-shirts and drew it over her head before pulling on her robe and tying it. Sharon glanced back at the bed, smiling when Andy grumbled quietly and pressed his face into her pillow. When he didn't move again, she shook her head and slipped quietly from the room. In the hall, the sound became more discernible. She heard the quiet clank of a cup, and the sound of someone coughing and trying to be quiet about it. Sharon ran her fingers through her hair and padded barefoot through the apartment. She glanced at the clock on her desk as she walked through the living room. It was incredibly early, or very late, depending on point of view. Only just after one in the morning.
She found Rusty in the kitchen, coughing into his elbow again as he stirred honey and lemon into a steaming cup of tea. He jumped, only slightly when she placed her hand against the back of his neck, before moving it to his forehead, and gave her a pitiful look. "Oh Rusty, why didn't you tell me you were feeling ill?"
"Believe me, if I thought I was sick, I'd say something." He cleared his throat and lifted the cup to his mouth. "I thought it was just the smoke blowing down from the hills above the Palisades. But I woke up and felt like crap. Who wants to be sick right before graduation?" He gave her a miserable look. "Did I wake you?"
"I was thirsty," she lied. Her fingers swept beneath his chin, probing gently. "Do you still have your tonsils?" His glands were swollen, and she would guess that it was just a cold, but was trying to remember what had been in the copies of his medical records that she had received from DCFS.
"Yeah," he said hoarsely. "It's not that. I'm just all scratchy and ugh." He made another face and trudged toward the living room.
Sharon chuckled at the eloquence of the sick teenager. "Probably just a cold then. We'll get you in to see a doctor in the morning. Come on, back to bed." She lay a hand against his back and maneuvered him down the hall to his room. She stepped into the bathroom across the hall, and opened the medicine cabinet. Inside she found a box of cold medicine and carried two of the capsules back to him. "Take these, it should help you sleep if nothing else."
"Yeah thanks." He was seated on the edge of his bed, rubbing his nose with a kleenex. She dropped them into his hand and he sat there for just a minute, holding them before he tossed the pills back and followed them with tea. "Do we have to go to the doctor?" He gave her a slightly pleading look, and wasn't surprised when it got him nowhere. "Fine."
"Go back to sleep, Rusty." She swept a hand over his hair, always careful with how much or how little affection she showed him. Too much and he became uncomfortable and awkward, too little and he worried that she was upset with him. They were still working to find their balance in the aftermath of all the drama and turmoil which had previously surrounded them. He rolled his eyes at her and she smirked.
She was almost to the door when he called her back. "Hey, Sharon." When she turned, Rusty's gaze fell to study his cup. "If you wanted me to stay, I could. I don't have to go to the dorm."
Surprise drew her brows together. She turned away from the door and folded her arms over her chest. "Rusty." She walked back over and sat on the edge of his bed. "If you don't want to move into the dorm, stay because it's what you want to do, not because you think that I need you to." Her hand brushed his arm, careful now because he was fidgeting, and she knew he was struggling with his own uncertainty. "You've got a couple of months before you need to make a decision." She sighed softly and tilted her head at him. "Rusty, you aren't moving out," she reminded him. "You're going to school. This will still be your room. You aren't rid of me that easily."
"Oh well," He rolled his eyes at her. "Foiled again." But he chewed on the corner of his lip and and picked at the rim of his cup. "It's just a little weird. I feel like you fought so hard to keep me here, and now it's over, and I'm leaving. It seems almost…" He shrugged, unable to name it.
"Hm." She hummed, understanding why it would seem so odd and confusing for him. "I suppose. The thing is, it wasn't the location that we were working to keep. It was your home, and it still is. Someday, not too far into the future, it will just be this place that you visit because you know that if you don't I'll come looking for you. Rusty, when you first came here, I lived alone. By choice, and I told you that the spare room was for my children, when they visit. Someday, that will be the case again, with the exception that you'll know it's there for you as well as the others. Okay?"
He nodded, but the future still felt like this uncertain, abstract idea that he couldn't quite wrap his mind around. "Okay," he said finally.
"This is normal, you know." Sharon stroked his arm, because he'd settled and would welcome it. "Ricky and Shannon both went through it. He changed his mind so many times before he finally felt at ease with going away, and that was to Northwestern. You'll be a few miles away at USC. With Shannon, she was going even farther. She wanted to dance, and I wanted her in school. We found our compromise, but it meant that she would be in New York. She could have stayed closer, but I wanted the best for her, and I want the best for you too, Rusty. When you're ready to move away, you'll go. It won't be easy, but it isn't supposed to be. And it isn't going to be tomorrow." He sniffled, from the cold, she knew. And she wondered, when he reached for another tissue if he'd managed to worry himself sick. She supposed not, she'd have noticed. It was that he felt ill that he was worrying at all. His barriers were down, and his mind was wandering. In another day or two, the excitement would set back in. Graduation was just around the corner. It was rather sweet that he was worried at leaving her behind, but then, that was normal too. This wasn't her first trip down this particular road, and at least they'd finally reached some level of normalcy. "Now go to sleep."
"Okay." He rolled his eyes at her again and lay down, feeling better, at least about the whole leaving thing. "It's not really the same this time," he said, drawing a questioning look from her as she moved toward the door again. "Not like you'll be living alone again." This time, it was Rusty that smirked, even as he pulled the blankets up to his chin and burrowed into them.
"Good night, Rusty," she said pointedly, and reached for the door, pulling it closed behind her. She heard him laugh, then cough. Sharon moved down the hall to the kitchen, she retrieved a bottle of water and carried it back, not surprised to find him already asleep. She left the bottle on the table next to his bed, beside his tea and retreated again.
Sharon eased quietly back into her room and shed the robe. She checked her alarm before sliding back into bed. She'd send Flynn to work, but call Provenza herself with the news that she would be in after seeing Rusty to the doctor. Andy had rolled, sometime after she left, was now facing the opposite side of the room. She curled against his back, but this time mumbled a quiet apology when her feet against his legs made him jump. He muttered in his sleep, but found her hand where it lay against his side, and drew her closer. She pressed a kiss to the back of his shoulder and closed her eyes. No, she supposed she wouldn't be living alone again after all.