Adrift and Apart

by Kadi
Rated: T

Disclaimer: This is not my sandbox. These are just my favorite toys. I promise to return them when finished.

Chapter 2 - The Art of Separation (Living Proof)

December had not started on a very good note. It did not appear as though it would be ending on one either. Sharon sighed as she held her phone to her ear. She pressed the fingers of her other hand between her brows, as though to stave off the headache that was beginning to pound behind her eyes. The first blow had come in the form of the break-up with Andy. Yes, she had initiated the break-up, in direct response to his hurtful comment, but she had also held fast to it later. Andy had called her a few days later, her first instinct was to ignore the call, but she felt that would be both immature and inappropriate. She spoke to him, at length, and she had to give him credit, he had tried very hard to change her mind. He missed her, he was sorry, and was she okay?

She almost agreed. She certainly considered it. In the end, Sharon knew that she was right. Their jobs were too much a part of who they were as individuals, and they had both worked too hard and too long to risk all of that on a personal relationship that may or may not be worth the risk in the end. She missed him too. If she were completely honest with herself, she had been missing him since the evening she ended their relationship. She hadn't realized just how much she had come to enjoy their time together, how much she cared for him, until it was over.

Seeing him at work, and knowing that there was no quiet evening together to look forward to, no passionate embrace to anticipate, that was harder than she expected. She ached for him, for the way he said her name, and the way his hands touched her body. She yearned for the taste of him on her lips and the heat of his mouth as he teased her. Most of all, she missed the way his eyes would crinkle at the corners when he smiled. She missed his sense of humor and the way that he made her laugh. She missed him. Andy. The man that she could have easily fallen for if given enough time, and maybe she was fooling herself, maybe the reason that she was missing him so badly was because she had fallen for him. She just couldn't have him.

She resolved to try and forget their time together, but that was impossible. She could no more forget the months she spent with Andy than she could forget the years spent with Jack. She tucked it away instead, and tried to hide her sadness when their paths crossed. Sharon could be professional, and she could keep her responses to him limited to the work they were doing. At first she questioned his ability to do the same, but he had proved, recently, that although his irritation and frustration might leak through, he would treat her no differently than he always had. There was a strange sense of comfort in that.

Small comforts were exactly what she was holding on to lately. Especially now that she was stranded in Los Angeles for Christmas. Sharon pressed her lips together as she listened to her daughter, on the other end of her phone, expressing her displeasure at having their holiday plans disrupted.

"It just isn't the same without you here."

"I know honey." Sharon suppressed the urge to sigh. The hitch in her daughter's voice had tears stinging her own eyes. She heard a sniffle and pressed her eyes tightly shut. "Emily, don't cry. The weather will clear in another day, I will be on the first flight, I promise. We will celebrate Christmas when I get there, and we'll have the New Year together. Honey…"

When Sharon disappeared after dinner, Andy thought that she left. The impromptu Christmas party was still ongoing in the Murder Room, and he had slipped away for a minute to try and call his kids. The ex-wife was upset with him for canceling on dinner. Andy couldn't blame her. It was the first invite in six years, and he blew it having to work. He was hoping that if he spoke to the kids, maybe he could smooth things over. Maybe they would be able to get together for dinner later this week, it wouldn't be the same, but he did want to see them.

He wondered the halls behind the Murder Room, looking for a quiet corner, and realized that he wasn't the only one with that idea. The sound of Sharon's voice, the thick, sad inflection, drew his attention. He should have walked away, left her to her privacy, but there was still a part of him that was drawn to her. It was a very big damn part of him, and he could no more ignore her sadness than he could stop breathing. There was also a part of him that wanted to hate her. He was angry at her, and angry at himself, but mostly he was just resigned to the fact that he managed, once again, to screw up a great thing. It wasn't only him, he knew that, she could have bent, just a bit, but even as he thought that, he knew that Sharon was right. They would fight again. Their jobs would interrupt their personal relationship, and the next time it happened, they may not be able to walk away from it so cleanly.

That didn't make him want her any less. He buried it behind sneers and sarcasm, and tried to ignore that he knew how good she felt, or the sounds she made as she came apart in his arms. He tried to ignore the memory of her taste, and the way that her laugh made his heart beat just a little faster. He wouldn't let himself linger too long on the sight of her smile or the way that her eyes changed color with her mood. He ignored all of that, because Andy knew that he couldn't forget it.

What he could not ignore was the small, low hum she made, in deference to a real response. Andy rounded the corner and found her, standing near a row of windows that looked out over the city. She was facing the night, shoulders slumped and head bent. His jaw clenched and he sighed. He couldn't ignore that either. It just wasn't in him to walk away from her while she was hurting. He rolled his eyes heavenward and asked for both patience and strength as he walked toward her.

"I'll talk to you soon," she murmured quietly. "All my love to everyone." Sharon disconnected the call and pressed the back of her hand against her mouth. The kids, both of them, were upset with her. They tried to hide it behind the excuse of being inconvenienced, but she knew her kids, and she knew that they were only attempting to hide their disappointment.

Andy leaned against the window ledge beside her. He tucked his hands into his pockets, figuring he'd have better luck at not touching her if they were hidden. "The kids?"

Sharon nodded quietly. With her hair obscuring her face, she swept her fingers beneath her eyes to remove the few tears that had escaped before returning his gaze. "Yes." She cleared her throat and tucked her phone back into her pocket before folding her arms around herself. "It isn't the first time I've had to work through the holiday, but it is the first time that we've been apart during Christmas. They usually come to me, and we either join my parents, or we celebrate at home." Sharon sighed, she shook her head. "They're all grown up now, so I should get used to it, right?"

He shrugged at her. "The first time is always the hardest." He remembered that first year he was on his own for the holidays. It was after his wife kicked him out. He spent it buried at the bottom of a bottle, but even that hadn't completely numbed the pain of being without his family. The real pain came the first Christmas after he got sober. He felt it a lot more keenly then, understood just what he'd lost. Her situation was completely different. She hadn't lost the right to be with her kids a Christmas, obstacles had been put in her path.

Andy drew his hands out of his pockets, clasped them in front of him. "I'm sorry, Sharon. I know you were looking forward to it." She had been talking about it since before Thanksgiving. Every time she did, her eyes would light up with joy. Now they were dim, sad, and his hands itched to hold her.

Her lips curved into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "So were you." The invitation to spend Christmas with his family must have come recently, he hadn't mentioned it prior to their break-up. Sharon didn't need to know when the invitation was extended to know that it was something he wanted, and a lost opportunity that he was now mourning. She studied her shoes for a moment and finally, when she could bear it no more, Sharon straightened and pushed away from the wall. "I should be going. It's getting late."

"Not that late." Andy watched her. He sighed. "You don't have to run off, Sharon. You could stay, enjoy the party."

"Hm." She shook her head. "I think I've enjoyed enough of it. I think the rest of your division will probably feel a lot more festive if I make myself scarce."

"It's Christmas," he said. "We can play nice for one night." Andy tilted his head at her. "You don't have to be alone." He pushed away from the wall and took a step closer, so that he was standing close, well inside what could be considered a respectful distance. "It's just one night, sweetheart."

Her mouth opened but quickly closed. He was staring at her, and the intensity of his gaze took her breath for a moment. Suddenly she wasn't sure what he was asking of her, to stay and enjoy the party, or something else entirely. Sharon's face softened, warmed. It had been difficult, these last few weeks, but they were both managing. Tonight he was hurting as much as she was, missing his kids as much as she was missing hers, and still he was trying to make her feel better. She lay her hand against his chest, let her fingers stroke the length of his tie.

"I would like to," she said softly, speaking to the hidden offer in his words. "I just can't, Andy." Sharon tugged affectionately on his tie as she shook her head. "You should go back," she said, and nodded her head in the direction of the Murder Room. "Spend time with your friends, keep that partner of yours out of trouble. I would hate to have to come back here tonight."

Andy snorted quietly. "The Chief's mom keeps him out of trouble better than I ever could." He smirked at her. "Probably better than you could. I think he's got a bit of a crush on her."

Sharon laughed. The surprised, but joy-filled sound rang through the silent hall. Some of the sparkle returned to her eyes, she smiled genuinely up at him. "I think all of you have a bit of a crush on her, but that's okay. She's a very nice lady."

"Yeah." Andy shrugged. He grinned a bit crookedly at her. "She's great. Makes me miss mine a bit more, she's been gone a while." He shrugged. "It's good though, the Chief's mom. We all like her," he agreed. Andy reached out before he could stop himself and flipped her hair back behind her shoulder. "If you won't stay," he rumbled quietly, "can I get you a ride home? Doesn't have to be me…" He got it. They were done. It didn't mean that he stopped giving a damn.

"No," she said softly. "I have my car. Thank you, though." Sharon smiled up at him. "For the offer, and, well…" Making her feel, if not better, at least a little less melancholy.

"You're welcome." He didn't know why, but he moved closer. His hand settled at her waist, and he leaned down. For just a moment, he was tempted to let his mouth cover hers. His lips tingled at the promise of feeling her against them again. Instead, he let his lips brush her cheek. It was light, but not entirely chaste. "Good night Sharon," he spoke quietly, lips moving against her cheek as his rumbled thickly. "Merry Christmas."

Her eyes closed. She drew her bottom lip between her teeth and hummed. She was tempted to lean into him, but didn't. When at last she looked up, her eyes were bright. "Merry Christmas, Andy." She smiled a bit tremulously. "Good night." She allowed her hand to brush his arm as she stepped away from him. It cost her to do it, but Sharon turned away. Her heels clicked against the tile as she moved, footfalls becoming more certain with each step that she put between them. When she rounded the corner and started down the passage that would take her back into the Murder Room, she took a deep breath.

Yes, she missed him, but perhaps there was hope too. It wouldn't always hurt.

When Andy got back to the Murder Room a few minutes later, he found Sharon still present. He wasn't surprised. She stood to one side, speaking quietly with the Chief's mother. He knew she would find it unconscionably rude if she left without thanking her hostess. He imagined that she was doing that now.

He crossed the room and paused at the bright, festively covered table that had been designated for drinks. There was sparkling cider, soda, and iced tea. Andy sighed as he retrieved a soda, even while his thoughts were being interrupted.

The loud echo of his partner's voice rang across the room. "Flynn! Get over here and settle a bet."

"You lost." He smirked a bit. "Whatever it is, you lost, so just pay up and be done." Andy took his soda with him and walked over to join Provenza, who stood with Taylor, Tao, and Gabriel. Andy sighed again. "What?"

"Cheerful aren't you?" Provenza made a face at him. "That just speaks to my point." He looked at the others. "Flynn broke up with his girlfriend, that's why he's moping around here in such a fantastic mood lately."

"I said," Tao interrupted, "that we would know if you had a girlfriend." He grinned smugly. "No way were you seeing anyone."

"For the record," Taylor added, "I told them that you don't mope after the ladies. You'd just find a new one."

"Really." Andy gave the group of them a bland look. "That's what you're over here talking about? My relationship status?" He snorted at them. "Okay, you two," he pointed at Provenza and Gabriel, "need to find girlfriends of your own, and you two…" He shook his head at Taylor and Mike. "Go call your wives."

He started to turn away from them but Provenza shook his head. "Now, now, not so fast there partner." He smirked happily. "I think I know when you're seeing someone. Exhibit A, he bought baseball tickets and didn't take me to the game. Exhibit B, he stopped hanging out at Malone's with us, and finally, Exhibit C, on a few separate occasions I have driven past his house - in an attempt to lure him out for a good time, and there has been a strange car parked in his drive."

Tao grinned widely. "Okay," he said slowly, as if considering it. "One, who wants to go to a ballgame with you anyway? Two, sitting around and watching all of us get drunk isn't exactly a good time, and three…" He shook his head and made a face at the older Lieutenant. "Stalking is a creepy. Even when you do it to your partner."

"Especially when you do it to your partner," Gabriel added with a laugh. "Come on, none of that really says girlfriend."

"Ah, ah, ah," Provenza shook his finger at them. "Except the fact that I know the last time he acted like this… girlfriend." He turned on his partner. "So, who is she, and did she dump you or not?"

Andy rolled his eyes at him. "You need more hobbies in your life. I tell you what," he gestured at his partner, "we'll go out tomorrow and find you a new wife."

"The hell you will." Provenza snorted. "Just answer the question."

He sighed. From the corner of his eye, he saw that others were taking an interest in their conversation too. Namely, Sharon, whose conversation with Mrs. Johnson seemed to have dwindled. "No one you'll ever meet," he told them, "and she dumped me a couple of weeks ago." Andy shrugged. "Shit happens. Now, whoever won, I want half the cash." He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers at them. "Pay up."

"Lieutenant!" Willy Rae cast a sad look at him. "That's terrible news! So close to Christmas too, you poor thing." She clucked her tongue in dismay. "I swear, some ladies just don't know a good thing when it's right in front of them."

Andy's gaze shifted. He looked at Sharon. "Oh, I think they do, Mrs. Johnson. It wasn't her fault. She was actually pretty great." He looked at the Chief's mom and shrugged. "I was the idiot in that relationship."

Willy Rae opened her mouth to respond, but Sharon's voice filled the murder room instead. "I think the point that the Chief's mother is making is that sometimes," she said carefully, tone a bit gentler than she would normally use with this group of people, "it takes two people to screw it up, Lieutenant." She turned before he could respond, offered a bright smile to the older woman beside her. "Thank you again."

As Sharon stepped away her gaze circled the room. "Merry Christmas everyone, and no offense, but I hope to see absolutely none of you before the New Year."

"None taken," Provenza chirped, "and right back at ya!"

Andy shook his head as the others, quite cheerfully, bid her goodnight. He even heard Gabriel mutter under his breath, Ding-dong the witch is gone. Andy sighed. He cast a dark look at the younger detective when he thought no one was looking. Okay sure, he might have started it, but Andy knew her a lot better now.

Unbeknownst to him, however, there was one person who did notice. Willy Rae smiled a bit sadly at the way the Lieutenant's gaze followed the Captain until she was gone. Young people today, they thought everyone around them was so oblivious to everything. She had certainly noticed the sparks that flew between those two over the last couple of days, and if she hadn't, well, they didn't need to sit so close together at dinner only to pretend to ignore one another. She doubted that anyone else had noticed, and found it amusing that for a group of detectives that were supposed to be so good at figuring people out, they had missed the obvious that was practically dancing right in front of their faces.

She glanced across the room and spied Brenda Leigh. Willy Rae sighed and smiled to herself. She decided she would just keep this one to herself. There was no need to go and get her daughter all worked up, and perhaps… the New Year would be kinder to all of them.