Light In The Dark

by Kate04

Chapter Six – Someone To Watch Over Me

Time: Set right after The Closer 6x11 "Old Money"

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Sharon stared at the small bungalow through the windshield of her car. Her hand had lingered on the door handle for a long time, before she finally found the courage to get out of the car and walk up the driveway. She passed the sad-looking scrub she'd studied from her vehicle. She had spent entirely too much time wondering how long the poor thing had struggled before it had given up the fight and died. It was so much easier to think about the tragic fate of a plant in Andrew Flynn's yard than the fact that the man himself had almost met the same destiny.

That was the reason why she was standing in front of his door at ten in the evening, heart beating wildly and palms sweaty. A heavy lump of dread and worry had been lodged firmly in her stomach ever since she had picked up her phone three nights ago to hear his strained, out-of-breath voice.

He had been uncharacteristically calm on the phone, as he had reported discharging his weapon. When she had taken his statement later, after a mad dash through evening traffic, his agitation had finally caught up with him. His familiar temper had somewhat calmed her concerns until he had collapsed in her arms.

Sharon had practically stopped breathing until the moment she encountered his pain-clouded gaze where he lay in the hospital bed surrounded by his team. As her lungs expanded suddenly, relief almost painful inside her chest, she had briefly wondered what had caused this intense worry and the almost giddy feeling of relaxation upon seeing him awake and reasonably well.

They weren't lovers or friends or even on particularly friendly terms with each other. There was absolutely nothing that bound them together. And yet, there was. It was unacknowledged and pointedly ignored, but there was an inexplicable connection between them that went deeper than mere friendship or sex or love or whatever else might bind people to one another. They were linked through reluctant thoughts about what might have been and shared grief over the loss of a life and the possibility of a different reality.

Still, they ended up yelling at each other. More to the point, he did the yelling; Sharon resorted to biting sarcasm and quiet anger when it became clear that he wouldn't understand that she was just doing her job. Usually, it didn't bother her when fellow officers treated her like a deadly enemy, her sole purpose to sneak up on them and stab them in the back. She had been doing this job long enough to get used to it, to learn to appreciate the power that lay in not caring about their opinion of her because she did her job well and in the end, she'd saved more officers than she harmed.

With Andrew Flynn it was different. For some reason Sharon expected him to know her better than that, to not expect the worst whenever she showed up. The realisation that he was just like all the others in that regard hurt, which in turn made her angry. She didn't want to care. Caring was complicated and painful.

Still, Sharon found herself ringing his doorbell, not sure if she wanted him to be home or would prefer her ringing to go unanswered. And she had no plan about what do in either case.

Her ruminations were interrupted when the door opened and her eyes landed on his rumpled form. His hair stuck out in every direction as if he had run his hand thought it repeatedly, the grey sweatpants hung low on his hips and the faded blue Police Academy t-shirt had definitely seen better days. She studied him for a long moment, face drawn, jaw clenched and eyes dulled by pain. The need to hold him close, stoke his hair and rub his temples to alleviate the discomfort came unexpectedly. It was something she did for her children whenever they were sick or hurt and to feel this kind of tenderness towards Andy was surprising and disconcerting.

It took him a while to process what he saw, confusion evident on his face. When it finally hit home, the change in his demeanour was palpable. His eyes narrowed, darkening with anger and the tension in his shoulders almost painfully obvious.

"What the hell are you doing here, Captain?"

Her rank was added almost as an afterthought, probably to maintain at least the pretense of respect. Sharon just stood and stared at him for what seemed like a very long time, words having deserted her at his blatant show of dislike. She felt her ire rise slowly but surely. It was mostly directed at herself because, seriously, what had she been thinking?

Before she could find her voice, Andy continued his tirade, obviously getting angrier by the minute as he seemed to assume the worst reasons for her visit to his home.

"Has someone else claimed I threatened them into making false statements? Anyone say I beat them up or tripped them or bribed them or whatever else they tell you? You know what? Don't tell me. I don't wanna know. Come back when you've finally got enough to take my badge and gun."

He was about to close the door in her face, but Sharon was not going to let him have the last word. It simply wasn't in her nature. Taking a step towards the door, she held out a hand to stop it from closing, her face burning with red-hot anger.

"Yes, you go with that assumption. If it makes you feel good to always think the worst of people, don't let me stop you. I don't know what I was thinking, anyway. I had this crazy idea that a little concern would be appreciated, but I see now that I was wrong. I apologise for the inconvenience, Lieutenant."

Her use of his rank was just as derisive as his had been earlier, a convenient shield against emotions she wasn't prepared to face – emotions that seemed to be firmly lodged in her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her eyes burned with angry tears and Sharon turned around to leave before he saw them.

Her sarcastic tone made anger wash through his veins like liquid fire and he felt his face flush with it. He was ready to go with it, to throw a biting comeback at her retreating form, but something held him back. There had been a flash of something in her gaze before she had turned away. He would call it vulnerability, but that word somehow didn't equate with the woman in front of him.

Whatever it was, it suddenly made him feel like an asshole and it irritated him only further. She had no business coming to his home and make him feel like that, he reasoned. He quickly closed the distance she had put between them by grabbing her arm and pulling her around to face him.

"Don't you dare run away now. You could at least have the courtesy to answer my question."

As he studied her in the dim glow of his porch light, green eyes blazing with fury, yet a little too bright, something heavy settled in his chest and it wasn't anger. He narrowed his eyes at her, trying to make sense of this, of her, of them.

Sharon held his gaze for a moment, before her shoulders slumped in resignation and her eyes shifted to the floor beneath their feet, her voice sounding tired and devoid of the previous sarcasm and anger. She didn't even resist the hand he'd grabbed her with.

"Is it so hard to believe that I was just worried about you and wanted to see if you were okay?" she asked plainly.

Sometimes communication between Andy's brain and mouth didn't work as well as it should for a man his age. It had gotten him into trouble more times than he cared to remember. He almost always realised immediately when it happened and it wasn't any different when he felt the vile words tumble out of his mouth this time.

"Actually, it is. First you pretend to be all nice and helpful, then you spend two days questioning my integrity, accusing me of all sorts of outrageous things and dangling my file in front of my superior, only to show up at my door with this show of concern. Excuse me for having trouble following."

Andy didn't miss the look of hurt that rushed over her face before the mask of quiet resentment slid firmly into place once more, eyes narrowed and lips pursed in displeasure.

"Right. Because you're nothing but another mark, another notch on my file cabinet of poor, defenseless, innocent officers I've managed to screw over because I really have nothing better to do. Yes, you've got me. Rubbing it in is only part of the fun. Makes it so much better the next time I try to ruin your good name by investigating the accusations filed by someone else. You know, just forget it. I really am terribly sorry for bothering you. It's certainly not going to happen again."

Her voice had risen to an uncharacteristically high and for a second Andy had to fight the impulse to take a step back. She tried to pull her arm free of his grip, but Andy, experiencing one of those moments when his brain was seriously lagging behind his actions, not only didn't let her go but pulled her close, pressed his body against hers and placed his lips right over her mouth without a single care about such a curious reaction to her hostility.

Rightfully, Sharon was stiff as a board in his arms, her hands rising to his shoulders, aiming to push him away. But in a curious reaction of her own, she quickly found herself instead giving in to his mouth on hers. Her body melted into his and her lips started to move with his, parting when his tongue slid over them.

Andy began to maneuver them back inside, unwilling to provide a free show for his neighbours. They stumbled into the doorframe, both groaning slightly at the increased pressure of chest against breast, hip against belly. Forgetting their original purpose for a heated little while, they stopped in the doorway and let their tongues enter in a frantic duel, sliding, stroking, tasting, exploring all those hidden places they had almost forgotten about.

Sharon let her hands slide into his hair, holding him to her, devouring him, while his stroke down her back, grabbed her firm ass. She felt him through the material of their clothes, hot and hard, digging into her middle. Grinding her pelvis into him, Sharon moaned into their kiss.

It was hard and fast and messy, hands groping, teeth nipping, tongues tangling. They poured their pent-up fear and anger into the exchange, not caring about bruises or red marks, sparing no thought for finesse or tenderness. Theirs had never been that kind of relationship. And yet now, they both felt something come undone. That tightly coiled entity that had been sitting inside them for the last few days uncoiled itself and left them both reeling from the resulting freedom to breathe, only to be rendered breathless for an entirely different reason.

Somehow they made it inside his house, her back hitting the wall as she heard the slam of the door. His hands started to unbutton her blouse, but halfway down he grew impatient with his fumbling fingers. Buttons flew in all directions, tumbling to the floor with a series of sad little clicks that went completely ignored. She should be angry with him for destroying one of her favourite blouses, but he made it impossible to think, his fiery touch on her skin, firm hands cupping her breasts through the silk of her bra. She moaned as he kissed a blazing trail down her throat and along the edge of her bra, dragging the fabric out of the way with his teeth to latch onto a puckered nipple.

A strong thigh moved between her legs, pushing her skirt up. Her head fell back against the wall at the exquisite feeling of pressure against her heated core and she ground against him urgently. He let his hands stroke along her bare thighs, curling one leg around him before he hoisted her up to align her burning centre with his twitching length.

She barely had a chance to process the breathtaking feeling of him against her before a decidedly unpassionate groan filled the small hallway and she was released unceremoniously from the wall and allowed to slide to the floor.

Instantly drawn out of the haze of arousal by the separation, Sharon immediately cupped his cheeks with both hands, trying to make him look at her. Andy had one arm pressed against his body; the other was braced against the wall behind her in an attempt to stay upright. He was deadly pale, his eyes closed and his jaw twitching with tension.

They had both completely forgotten about his injuries and Sharon cursed herself for that. She had dropped by to see if he was doing okay, not to make things worse for him.

"Andy, look at me. Don't you dare pass out!" Her voice slipped into Captain's mode effortlessly and it seemed to serve its purpose. Andy carefully opened his eyes and squinted at her, breathing heavily both from their previous activities and the pain.

"I'll do my best." He gave a short laugh, only to wince in pain as it made his abdominal wound hurt even more.

"I guess I should've let you get on top." His attempt at humour made her snort before she pulled his good arm around her shoulders and helped him to the couch. After they had successfully lowered him into a sitting position, Sharon pointed a finger at him, accompanied by a glare.

"You stay there and don't move a muscle!"

Finding his kitchen, she quickly filled a glass with cold water and returned to his side.

"Here, drink this. And then I'll drive you to the hospital. This doesn't look good at all."

She gestured at the dressing on his arm that was beginning to turn red with fresh blood. Sharon didn't want to think about what his abdominal wound would look like after the stunt he pulled.

"No, that's not necessary. Really, I'm fine."

Studying him with a raised eyebrow, Sharon tried to decide what to do. Her instincts told her to get him to an ER and have a doctor look at his injuries to make sure the stitches were still in place. He did look a little better already, though, colour having returned to his cheeks. Besides, if he really didn't want to see a doctor, how was she going to force him? Heaving a resigned sigh, Sharon crossed her arms and stared at him.

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. You lie down on the couch and let me check those wounds to make sure you didn't pull your stitches. If it's something we can deal with here, I won't insist, but if you managed to do some serious damage, you'll get into the car without any complaints."

After a few seconds of trying to stare her down he reluctantly nodded his assent.

"Good. Now tell me where you've got your first aid kit."

He gave her a wry look, the corners of his lips twitching upwards slightly.

"Yes, ma'am. It's under the kitchen sink, ma'am."

Sharon rolled her eyes at him and walked back to his kitchen, trying her best to close her blouse with the remaining buttons on the way. With half the buttons missing, she had a hard time making herself look somewhat decent again, but tucking the blouse into her somewhat wrinkled skirt almost did the trick. It would have to be enough.

When she returned to the living room, Andy had stretched out on the sofa and was busy trying to peel the bandage off his arm. Sharon gently slapped his hand away and, setting the kit on the low table, she took over for him, carefully revealing the cut. She winched at his hiss as the gauze finally came loose, dried blood making it stick to his skin.

After having cleaned away the blood, she was satisfied to see that the bleeding was only minor and no stitches seemed to be torn. She carefully redressed the wound before she pushed up his shirt to get a look at the long slash in his side.

She hadn't known how bad it was until the gauze was pulled off and revealed the long cut, red, swollen and oozing fresh blood. This, too, looked painful but not serious enough to warrant a visit to the ER. Her left hand softly caressed his chest as the other cleaned the wound, before she put a fresh bandage on it.

When she was done, she patted his chest gently, letting her hands linger, enjoying the feeling of his warm skin and coarse hair.

"So, what's the verdict, Doctor Raydor?" Andy grinned up at her, clearly enjoying the tender caress.

"You'll live."

She returned his smile, her thumbs drawing small circles on his skin until he reached up with his uninjured arm, his hand cupping the back of her head, and tried to pull her down to him. Sharon resisted despite her own longing to feel his lips against hers again. Shaking her head at him, she lowered his shirt and got up, only to sit down on the armrest at his head.

"You know this is what got you in trouble in the first place, so keep your hands to yourself and close your eyes. You need to rest."

Her voice was soft and low and she buried her hands in his soft hair, gently rubbing his temples with her fingers. She ignored his pout and frustrated grunt, which quickly turned into a delighted moan as he let her soothe the pounding behind his closed eyes that had returned with a vengeance in the hallway.

Sharon studied him as he gradually relaxed under her ministrations, his breathing deepening and his features relaxing as sleep slowly claimed him. In these quiet moments she could admit to herself that whatever it was they had between the two of them, it was affecting her a lot more deeply than she would've ever thought possible. It wasn't just about the need to physically connect with another human being anymore. As unlikely as it was, Sharon had started to genuinely care about this man and she had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't one-sided.

It was a frightening concept, this idea of something meaningful developing between the two of them. After everything that had happened in the last two decades – with Jack and with Andy – Sharon wasn't sure if she was ready to take that step or if she ever would be. Opening herself up again after so many years of making sure no one got close enough to hurt her would be difficult and she had to be sure that it wouldn't backfire and that he was even interested.

But that was a thought they could explore together another time. Some time when he was well again and after careful consideration of the consequences.

When she was certain that Andy had fallen asleep, Sharon brushed a stubborn strand of hair out of his face and placed a lingering kiss on his forehead, before she got up to leave