A/N- Caw, caw, mothershippers. I'm back! That was sooooo adorable. I can't believe Rusty is going to mow Hobbs' lawn for EIGHT YEARS. I guess if she and his mother and Grove are all going to get together to get Rusty into UCLA- presumably on scholarship?- then eight years is more than fair payment.

I'm also assuming that Grove, Sharon, and- presumably- Andrea got Rusty some sort of scholarship to UCLA. He'd defs qualify, and it's expensive, haha.

I meant to publish this earlier this morning, but something glitched. Either way, it worked out fine. Defyingnormalcy and Kayryn, this goes out to you. I saw your comments on my lawn-mowing excitement just as I finished this.

Rusty watched the scenery flash by as Sharon's small car climbed the hill. He knew Sharon was barely going the speed limit- 30- but it felt as though she were whipping around the tight turns. He flinched as a car shot past them going downhill.

Sharon laughed. "You haven't driven up here before?" They were on Laurel Canyon Boulevard, a steep climb up to Mulholland, and one of the many Laurel Canyon roads.

"Not in a while," he muttered. "Where does DDA Hobbs live, anyways?"

They were driving to visit the lawyer. For Sharon, it was a social occasion, one she had apparently been planning for some while. For Rusty, it was work. It wouldn't be warm much longer, but for now, he could mow Hobbs' lawn. He had tried to get both Andrea and Sharon to tell him how big the lawn was, but both had laughed and told him nothing, although Sharon had let him down easier than Hobbs had.

"Oh, no. You agreed to this," the blonde said with a wicked grin. "I'm signing off on your papers, and you're mowing the lawn. Sharon knows where I live, and she's been planning to come by for a while now. Perhaps you can join her."

Rusty gripped the oh-shit handle as Sharon took a sharp turn off Laurel Canyon, onto a smaller side street.

"You really don't trust my driving do you?"

He shrugged.

"Honey, I've been living here for. . . multiple decades, and most of that time was spent on the force. I can drive quite well, thank you."

"Sure, Mom."

She laughed again as she pulled into a narrow dirt and stone driveway. "We're here."

"Thank God."

They both got out of the car, and Rusty followed Sharon down the driveway. Both sides were bordered by tall bushes that he couldn't see past.

"This is where she lives?"

"Mmhmm."

They turned a corner, and Sharon opened a small gate that bridged the gap between the hedges.

"Oh, wow."

Hobbs' house was a somewhat boxy number, white and grey, and Rusty could see both a front yard and a back. The back seemed smaller, though, if the treetops were any indication. There were large windows, and he could see Andrea Hobbs through them.

She stepped out of the house and waved at them. "I'm glad you could make it," she called. "Shar, I've got lunch going inside. You want to check on it and I'll give Rusty the tour?"

"Sure." Sharon hugged her friend briefly and then breezed past, into the house.

Rusty glanced at Andrea. She was dressed in jeans and an overlarge corduroy shirt, more casual than he'd ever seen her.

"Thanks."

Her eyebrows went up in surprise. "What for? You're the one doing the hard work."

"Yeah, but you signed off on my stuff, and, uh. . ." He paused. "You and Sharon hang out with Judge Grove, don't you?" It was a guess, honestly. Grove and Sharon could have been doing work things, he supposed, but the judge's comment about textbooks was uncanny.

"Ah." She nodded. "We do."

"And you had something to do with. . . UCLA?"

She shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not. Come on, I'll show you around."

He followed her through the front yard, then up a couple steps to the back. There was a pool in the back and a garden, leaving little room for grass. He thought it was going to be the easiest job he'd ever had until she showed him the mower.

"It's a manual one, sorry. I never got the hang of the gas motor ones, so you'll have to push it."

It was a thin, black machine, very simple, with a pair of rotating blades at the front.

"If it's any consolation, there's steak salad for lunch. It'll probably be ready when you're done out here."

If Andrea Hobbs was the part of the reason he had a scholarship to one of the most prestigious universities in the state, he'd do all the home maintenance she needed. Well, everything he could figure out how to do.

"Thanks."

She nodded. "Don't thank me yet. You've still got eight years to go." She left him outside, and within a few minutes, he could hear music and the faint sounds of conversation.

He turned his attention back to the lawn mower. The sooner he started, the sooner he'd be done.

Andrea walked back into the kitchen and accepted the glass of iced tea Sharon passed her. The kitchen was like the rest of the house, light and airy with a pair of large windows. Sharon was taking the steak out of the sink, where Andrea had been thawing it.

"Eight years?"

Andrea nodded. "That was our agreement. We dickered about it for a while, but. . ." she shrugged. "I honestly don't think I'll make him carry the whole thing out."

Sharon glanced up. "Whyever not?"

"Well, for starters, how likely is it he'll be here for the next eight years? I mean, four years, yes, maybe six if he wants a Master's, but if he goes for much graduate schooling, my guess is that he transfers out. He's been here his whole life. He'll want to travel."

Sharon nodded. "I hate to say it, but I agree."

Andrea took the rest of her salad fixings out of the fridge. "What is it Grove told you? 'Back off, Mommy?'"

Sharon rolled her eyes. "'Mama.' He said 'Back off, Mama.' Please never call me Mommy again, it makes me feel like a young soccer mom again, and those days are far behind me now, thank God."

Andrea laughed. "Either way. He's growing up, Shar. He's really coming into his own, though. It's honestly rather impressive. I mean, three yeas ago, if you'd told me this bratty little kid on crutches would be wrapping decorated judges and lawyers around his little finger while closing an outstanding missing person's report, I probably would have taken you to the hospital for a concussion exam."

"Wrapping lawyers around his fingers? Did he find your soft side?"

"I didn't treat him like a criminal suspect, but keep in mind he's mowing the lawn for years to come. Shar, he'll be twenty-seven by the time this deal is up."

"Oh God, don't remind me." Sharon turned around and looked at Andrea. "That means I'll be sixty-six and you'll be-"

"No!" Andrea yelped. "You aren't allowed to say that aloud." She pulled dishes down from the cabinet. "Where do you see yourself then? You've qualified for retirement already."

"I don't know, honestly. I mean, there's Rusty, wherever he ends up. Although, it would be funny if he does end up being a lawyer."

"He's stuck with me and Grove now, on top of you. Keep going, though."

"Ricky likely isn't going anywhere for awhile. He really likes his job. Emily. . . she'll be getting to the end of her career."

"She'd be what, mid-thirties by then?"

"Mm." Sharon nodded. "That's about the end of professional dancing. It really takes a toll, physically and mentally. A lot of them go into teaching. I don't know if she'd want to stay in New York, come back here, or if there's somewhere else entirely."

"But what about you?"

"I don't know. I'd like to keep working for a while yet. It'd be nice to retire as a Commander or an Assistant Chief. I probably ought to start thinking of a replacement for the Women's Coordinator position, though. I still hold it, but. . . I think it might be time for the younger generation to start stepping into these higher positions."

"Do you have your eye on anyone?"

Sharon set the steak in the pan Andrea had been heating. "Yes, actually. Anne McGinnis? Remember her?"

"That little blonde bloodhound?"

Sharon snorted. "Yep, that's her. I like her a lot for the position."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm. She's smart, she's driven, she cares deeply for her officers, and she's going to be here for a while. At the risk of sounding callous, this job is her life. She lives for the uniform."

Andrea nodded. "I remember. She'd be a good choice. She wouldn't back down from Taylor or Pope, either."

"God no."

"Could I be nosy?" Andrea didn't look up from chopping tomatoes and bits of blue cheese.

"Since when are you not? You're my best friend, 'Drea, I think you have that right."

"Andy?" Andrea held her breath. Sharon had been touchy about the subject for the better part of a year now, remaining oddly close-mouthed. She rarely spoke about Flynn, giving only brief answers when asked specific questions.

She had been skittish with relationships ever since her initial split with Jack, which Andrea deeply resented him for. Sharon was a beautiful woman, smart and funny, as well, but she had never really enjoyed any kind of romantic interaction. She was jumpy during any date she had, hated to move quickly, and- as she had confessed to Andrea earlier in the spring- hadn't shared more than a kiss with a man since the last time she had kicked Jack out.

Andrea could barely believe that Sharon kept her sanity. She believed the story- nothing could be more utterly Sharon- but couldn't imagine living so. . . austerely.

Sharon sighed and flipped the steak over. "It's rather hard to swallow."

Andrea snorted and Sharon shot her a dark glare.

"Sorry."

"No, you're not," Sharon muttered. She shook her head, trying not to smile before turning serious again. "It's more than I've been involved in since, well, since Jack. We're going very slowly, which I'm grateful he's being patient about. I just. . . I don't. . . I still don't feel ready for all the entanglement that a relationship brings. I mean, on one hand it's nice, but on the other hand, it's like giving someone the keys to your castle and trusting that they aren't going to walk in and break it apart from the inside."

And there it was. The true, underlying terror that defined Sharon Raydor's love life, or lack thereof.

"Oh, honey, come here." Andrea pulled Sharon away from the stove and hugged her tightly from behind. "I think he means the best-"

"Jack meant the best."

"Jackass couldn't tell up from down. Forget him for a moment. I think Flynn means well, and he's experienced. He's not some kid fresh out of undergrad. He deserves a chance." You deserve a chance. "However this turns out, I'll be here for you. If you decide to get married again someday and you need someone to push your wheelchair down the aisle because you're so far past sixty-six, I'll do it. If you end up needing a sleepover with a blanket fort and a bonfire where we burn some photos, so be it."

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

Sharon turned to look at Andrea. "Whatever would I have done without you?"

"For starters, you would have burned your steak more often-"

Sharon spun on one heel and quickly flipped the stove off. "Dammit."

Andrea laughed and squeezed Sharon's shoulder before getting a third glass out for Rusty. "I'm always here for you. For the next eight years, at least."

"I thought you said you'd cut him some slack." Sharon raised an eyebrow.

"I haven't made up my mind yet." Andrea grinned wolfishly. "Now, compose yourself before I bring our resident handyman in for lunch."

"I don't know if I'd go so far as to call him a handyman."

"We'll get there." Andrea stepped outside though the sliding glass door. "Russell!" she shouted.

There was a momentary pause before the reply came back. "Deputy District Attorney Hobbs!"

Sharon rolled her eyes.

"Lunch!"

"Coming!"

Andrea stuck her head back inside. "I like this arrangement already. Free lawn care. Oh yeah, and lunch with you, I guess. I'm assuming you're going to keep coming with Rusty. Knowing you. . . "

"You're a brat."

"You still love me."

Sharon snorted. "Just keep telling yourself that."

"What was that?" Andrea stepped back into the kitchen and neatly cornered Sharon.

"You heard me."

Andrea lunged forward and wrapped one arm around Sharon's neck while ruffling her hair with the other.

"Oh, God, Andrea!"

"Say it!" Andrea laughed.

In response, Sharon reached up and tried to grab Andrea's hand. The blonde didn't resist and let Sharon straighten up and blow her hair out of her face.

Sharon eyed her friend warily. "How about a deal?"

"A deal?"

"I'll love you most of the time, just not when it involves you messing with my hair. "

Andrea nodded. "Fair enough. I can agree to that."

Rusty stepped into the house, bringing the pungent scent of grass clippings. "Did you guys just make a deal involving my future without me? Again?"

Andrea sent Sharon a sideways glance. "Close enough. Your mother just promised her eternal soul to me."

Rusty nudged his mother with one shoulder. "That makes two of us." He kicked his shoes off on the mud rug and walked past the two women. Can we eat now?"

Andrea snorted. "Sure thing, kid."