Rusty stared at his mother for a moment and then grinned.
"You look great."
She cast him a teasing glare and snorted. "Sure, sure."
"No, really, Mom."
She was wearing her uniform, ironed and creased, with her ribbons and medals decorating her chest. She had gained several during her fifty odd years of service, and they were all polished to brilliance today.
She was retiring.
Rusty reached up and straightened the four stars on each side of her collar. She had finally been promoted to Commander several years back, then Deputy Chief, and finally Assistant Chief the year before.
She was seventy-two now, and her once-dark hair had faded to pale silver, still shot through with copper and dark auburn. She had twisted it up in a bun at the nape of her neck so she could slip her cap on overtop. Her eyes were as bright as ever, though, and they sparkled as Rusty backed up again.
The uniform hung on her differently than it had when he'd first met her. It had always been rare to see her in uniform, but she'd been forced into it enough that he could spot the differences. It was slightly looser on her now, especially in the shoulders. Where the uniform had once scared him, emphasizing her dark make-up and frown, it now highlighted the veins he could see in her hands and the cool argent sheen of her hair. She didn't look frail, not by any means, but she looked ready to retire.
"You're going to be late," she told him. He was working for the LA Times, now, a news editor, but he had asked to cover the LAPD awards ceremony. It was small news, relatively speaking, but it was also his mother's last day with the force.
"I'll be fine. Front row, remember?" He waved his press pass at her. "Is your memory going, too?"
She laughed. "Ornery as ever. Now get. I'll be just fine as long as I remember my glasses."
"Fine, fine. We'll all wait for you. Flynn and Ethan might be a few rows back, but I saw them come in with Tao's crew and Andrea. I think Emmy and Ricky are already here." He flushed slightly. "I drove over with Ethan."
Mike Tao had taken over Major Crimes after Provenza had retired to be with Patrice and Sharon had been promoted. Flynn didn't want the command, despite being primarily administrative- Sharon and Provenza had tried to limit his hours in the field- and Skyes wasn't quite ready. Sharon fully expected Amy to take the squad over in the not-so-distant future.
Ethan was Rusty's boyfriend. They had met through work- Ethan was a photographer for National Geographic- and been together for nearly five years now. Sharon didn't want to jinx anything by saying it aloud, but Ethan seemed to be the one. Rusty was still cautious, but Ethan seemed content to keep pace.
He smiled at her again. He was glad she was retiring in one piece, more or less. She had torn her ACL a few years after he'd graduated from UCLA, but that was the most damage she'd suffered since he met her. He had still been in LA, but he didn't move back in with her during her recovery. She had Andy for that.
They had stayed together, and though it was always a little odd for Rusty to see them together while knowing how they had once opposed each other, he was okay with it. It had taken a long while for him to internally figure out that Sharon and Flynn weren't his other mother and her string of boyfriends. Flynn was there to stay.
Despite that, they hadn't married. Sharon insisted that there was no reason to go and spend the time and money on rings and paperwork when it didn't do much she couldn't figure out legally- with Andrea's help, that was.
Flynn would always laugh and say she just enjoyed living in sin after her decades of saintly rule following.
"I'll see you after the ceremony, okay? I told you we have reservations with everyone at our old burger place, right?
"You did." She hugged him. "I love you."
"Love you, too."
She waited until her son had left until she turned back to the small mirror that was hung backstage for her and the other- younger- women who were doing last minute touch-ups to their make-up.
She smiled at herself. She had had a good run. It had been a long time since the first time she had been promoted, and now there were far more wrinkles on her face- most of them from good times, but many from stress. Her voice was rougher than it once had been. She'd loss muscle in her shoulders despite swimming, and she'd swear her uniform hadn't previously hugged her hips like it was doing today. Her hair had long ago passed 'greying' and was well on its way to 'white.'
She pressed a hand to her lips to keep from laughing. Of all the things to be vain about. This was life. Life and its ups and downs. She wasn't twenty anymore, and she didn't look it. An image crossed her mind, and this time she did laugh aloud. She didn't particularly want to look twenty again, especially if it meant wearing the clothes she'd worn in the seventies. If she was ever deeply concerned about her age, her hair could just be dyed. For some reason, she'd kept the silvery color. Andy said it reinforced her 'character' and added 'distinction.' Provenza had just laughed at her the first time she had mentioned something about coloring it and said 'welcome to the senior citizens' club, Captain.'
She pushed a strand back from her face and stared into the mirror, absentmindedly wondering if Jack would have recognized her if he could see her. He had died two years previously. When she'd heard the news, it was saddening, but only abstractly so. Emily missed him the most. Ricky and his wife, Jill, had their hands full with their first child, a girl they'd named Sophie Isobel, in honor of both grandmothers via their middle names. She had protested, saying the child didn't need her cop of a grandmother looming over her, and Ricky had laughed, sharing a look with Jill that clearly said I told you she'd say this.
Nonetheless, he told her if they had another child later on, they wouldn't use 'Sharon' anywhere in the name and risk confusing poor Uncle Rusty even more.
She had snorted, rolled her eyes, and promptly asked to hold her first grandchild. Upon reflection, she thought it might have been well to wait a minute or two and clean up, as the first photo of Isobel and Sharon featured the baby in a yellow knit cap and her grandmother in Kevlar, with her gun and badge prominent on her hip and POLICE stenciled across her chest. Sharon had just come from the field.
On the other hand, she thought, it would make for a good story someday.
Ann McGinnis stepped up behind her coworker. Sharon Raydor was smiling at her reflection, though her gaze went far deeper than the mirror. Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere.
Over their couple decades together in the LAPD, Ann had come to deeply respect the woman. When Pope had approached her about becoming the Women's Coordinator for the force, more than ten years back, now, she had been completely surprised. She had heard Deputy Chief Raydor wanted to hand the reins to someone younger, but she'd never imagine the brass would ask her.
It wasn't until many months later that she'd heard Sharon had nearabout bullied Pope and Taylor into seriously considering Ann for the position. Apparently, Sharon had kept a closer eye on her than she'd thought.
They'd gotten closer and stayed that way as they both moved up through the chain of command. Sharon had introduced Ann to Andrea Hobbs in a less formal setting than the courtroom, personally linking the younger woman to the powerhouse of the DA's office. She'd then done the same thing with the mayor's office, FID, and various other figures across LA. Ann had never realized the networking and power behind the former head of Internal Affairs, but she was deeply grateful for it and Sharon's willingness to share. The woman was a legacy.
She reached out and tapped the woman's shoulder.
"Chief," Sharon said in surprise, the title slipping out. "Ann."
Ann grinned. "Almost ready?"
"To listen to Taylor and the Pope make their speeches?" Sharon rolled her eyes as she fell in step with the other woman. "Never, but sometimes working relationships depend on what you're willing to overlook. . . or tune out."
Ann snorted. "God."
Sharon laughed as they both fixed their caps over their hair. The gap between the curtain and temporary wall was too small for both of them, so she held the curtain back for Ann.
"You can go first."
Ann raised her eyebrows as she passed. "Yeah?"
"You get to sit closer to the Vatican," Sharon whispered as she stepped into the sun.
Rusty heard the click of a camera as Sharon and Ann McGinnis stepped onto the stage. They were both smiling widely at some inside comment, and looked sharp in their uniforms, with the sun catching their ribbons and badges.
"Can we put that in the Times with my article?" he asked quietly.
Ethan glanced over. "Dude, yes. Your mom and her friend are totally photogenic and it's great lighting. I'd be offended if you didn't ask."
Rusty kissed Ethan's cheek quickly and returned his attention to the stage. Sharon had sat next to Ann, but she caught his eye and winked, glasses flashing.