Andy POV
I walked into my house for the first time in four days.
It feels…empty.
The last time I was here, it was just to pick up some clothes, and Sharon was with me.
"It's so neat," she commented as she wandered through the rooms.
It might seem weird that she hadn't been to my place yet, considering our three weeks of dating, in addition to our months of friendship prior to that, but I guess it's just that I like her place.
When we got together, I would always pick her up, and if we stayed in, we stayed in at her home.
And maybe that's it. Her place is a home. Mine is just a place to sleep. It's always felt that way, even though I've lived here for years.
Maybe because I've never been happy here.
"I do know how to clean up after myself," I joked as I followed her into my den.
"You do?" she asked, feigning surprise. "Then why are you always leaving things lying all around my house?"
"Things like what?" I challenged, because I have my flaws, but being messy isn't one of them.
"Things like…your tie," she said purposefully as she reached out and began unknotting my tie. I stood still, every nerve ending on alert as she swiftly pulled off the length of silk and then made a show of dropping it onto the floor.
"And your shirts are just…everywhere," she continued, smiling coyly as she simultaneously untucked and unbuttoned my shirt. I was dying to put my hands on her, too, but I could tell she was having too much fun.
When she finished with my shirt, she tossed it onto the back of the sofa, and then she tugged my t-shirt over my head, and while she did that, I toed off my shoes and socks.
"See? Socks, shoes," she remarked after kicking said items out of the way, and then she kissed me as she reached for my belt.
In the weeks prior, I might have been uncomfortable standing in front of her wearing nothing but my boxer shorts, especially when she was still fully dressed, but over the three-week span that we've been intimate, she's done wonders for my self-image.
I mean, someone as beautiful as Sharon could surely find a man who looks better than me.
But she seems to really like the way I look, and she tells me that all the time, in words as well as in the way she touches me.
And that day, last Saturday, the things she did to me in my living room…it's the stuff fantasies are made of.
I was happy here that day.
But not tonight.
Because maybe she's healed my body image issues, but I still have a strong sense of insecurity when it comes to her.
Not because of anything she's done, but just because I haven't figured out what she sees in me.
"So how'd that happen, anyway?" Wright asked me earlier today. He rode with us to the impound lot, and he started up right away.
"Let's keep the discussion on the case at hand," my partner told him.
I was impressed that he stood up for me because he was a little ticked when he found out about me and Sharon.
"How could you not tell me?" he said as soon as I entered the murder room this morning.
"Not tell you what?" I asked, and then I nearly died when he told me what Wright said.
"So I'll ask again, why didn't you tell me?"
His lowered voice was the only indicator that he was going to be mostly reasonable about it, because the others were all sitting around just looking at me.
"Because we weren't telling anyone."
"Except Wright, apparently."
"He ran into us," I explained on a sigh. "In her building."
"So? You were in her building, so what? So was Julio."
"I was kissing her."
"God, Flynn, have you lost your mind?"
"Why, because I'm in love with an intelligent, beautiful woman? That doesn't make me crazy, it makes me smart," I fired back. "And what about you? Where were you last night?"
He scowled at me for a minute, and then he relented, chuckling as he said, "Not at home."
"Uh huh. That's what I thought. How is Patrice, anyway?"
"Intelligent. And beautiful," he answered. "And wait, did you just say you're in love with the captain?"
"Yeah, I am. You got a problem with that?"
He scrutinized me for a beat, and then he said, "Not as long as you don't screw it up."
"I won't," I said, although even then, I wasn't so sure. "But hey, you gotta do me a favor. That thing Wright said…Sharon's probably worried to death that somebody's gonna say something to her."
"You honestly think anyone wants to think about you tied to her bed?" he scoffed, but I kept looking at him, and he lightened up. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. No comments to the captain."
"Thanks," I said in relief. I knew no one in the squad would care about the two of us dating, but with the way it came out, from that scumbag Wright…no wonder she was so flustered out in the hall.
I stood by as Provenza loudly ordered everyone in the squad room, telling them jokes to the captain about me were off the table, and then he smirked at me and added, "But you're fair game, Casanova."
And while we did paperwork, he made good on that remark. They all did.
"Do you need something for those rope burns, sir?" Sanchez asked me.
"Try handcuffs next time," Sykes piped in. "Less chafing."
"Yeah, you'd know," I fired back. "Coop was missing his the other day."
"Don't turn this back on Sykes, Flynn," my partner said with a grin. "Today is all you."
Which is why I was surprised when he stood up for me in the car. Although I guess it's because Wright's an outsider.
Correction, he's an asshole outsider.
"It's a twenty minute drive to the impound lot," Wright said. "What does it hurt to get to know each other a little bit? And it's a legitimate question. Because Sharon - oh, I mean Captain Raydor - seems way out of your league, Lieutenant."
"And she's in yours?" my partner said. "Is that why you asked her out for drinks?"
"You did what?" I asked sharply, turning in my seat to look at Wright.
"Hey, I'm new to the area. I'm trying to make friends," he said with a shrug.
"Find them somewhere else," I said.
"You know, it surprises me that she'd be into a guy like you, Flynn. I mean, considering your AA status."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, she just divorced one alcoholic, and now she starts dating another. I don't know, sounds kind of messed up to me. Like maybe she's got a savior complex or something. I mean, why would she want to have to deal with the same crap she just unloaded?"
"Flynn is nothing like her ex," Provenza spoke up.
"Sounds to me like he's a lot like him. Not just the drinking, but you're both hot-headed trouble-makers, too. Maybe she just misses him, do you think? Are you a replacement for the husband who left her?"
I don't know when my hand bunched into a fist, but I noticed it when Provenza reached over and grabbed my arm.
"So we're just being personable right now, huh?" Provenza asked, still holding my arm down to keep me from slugging the guy. "Not captain and lieutenants, just guys?"
"Yeah, sure."
"Good. Then shut the hell up."
The rest of the drive was made in silence, but my mind was working overtime. Because even though Wright's an ass, he made good points.
How am I any different from Jack? And why would she want to deal with somebody like me? She's so great, she could have anyone. Someone without a penchant for trouble. Someone not in AA.
"Stop it," Provenza muttered to me as we walked onto the impound lot.
"Stop what?"
"Thinking that anything that dipshit said is true."
But I did think about it.
All afternoon.
At one point, just before we headed back to the office, I found myself alone with Wright.
"I guess it doesn't bother you, huh?"
"What's that?" I asked reluctantly.
"You never said how it happened," he said, not answering my question. "But I can guess. You pursued her, didn't you? Wormed your way into her life bit by bit? She probably didn't even know it was happening until one day she's suddenly so used to seeing you always by her side that she mistakes habit for interest."
I glared at him, but couldn't respond, because damn if he didn't hit the nail on the head.
"That's how I got my first wife," he said conspiratorially. "She was way too good for me, too. She finally realized it after a couple of years. Hurt like hell losing her, but I suppose it was for the best. It was always such a lopsided relationship. I loved her way more than she loved me."
He walked away from me then, going back to the car, but his words sent my mind into a tailspin.
Because last night, I told Sharon that I love her.
And she didn't say it back.
Honestly, I didn't mean to say it, but after making love with her, I just felt it so strongly that the words slipped out.
But then she went silent, and I started to panic, because I didn't want to ruin this perfectly comfortable thing we have going on by smothering her with my feelings, but when I looked at her, and saw the tears in her eyes, I thought maybe it was a good thing. So I gave her the easy out, showing her no expectation of a returned sentiment. I just wanted to let her know how I feel, because it's the truth, whether she feels it or not.
Of course, I dreamed that she said it back. Her voice, soft and sultry, whispering the words of love to me…
But I don't think that's going to happen.
I have wormed my way into her life.
And I am a lot like Jack.
Why should she have to deal with another alcoholic?
And look what I'm doing to her reputation already. With a guy like Wright knowing about us, it'll be around the rest of the LAPD in no time, and just because my colleagues won't judge her for dating me doesn't mean everyone else won't.
I need to back off, and give her time to make up her mind, without me in her face all the time, I decided near the end of the day.
So when it was time to go home, I went in to tell her that I was going to my place.
It damn near killed me.
She looked so…stunned, and sad, and…something else that I can't put my finger on.
That was an hour ago, and now I'm alone in my house, but all I can see is her face in my mind.
Did Wright ask her the same questions about us? They were talking civilly in her office. What was she saying about me?
"Nothing," I said aloud in the empty room.
Sharon might have doubts about me, but she would never voice them to anyone, especially not Wright.
But does she have doubts about me, I questioned myself. Last night she told me she's the happiest she's ever been. And Sharon wouldn't say that if it weren't true.
But has she considered what she's gotten herself into? A relationship with another addict. She can do so much better, and one of these days she's going to realize that, right?
I kicked off my shoes and flopped down onto the couch, scrubbing my hands over my face.
A knock on the door had me groaning in protest as I got to my feet.
It's Provenza, I'm sure. He asked me a dozen times today if I was okay, and I mostly ignored him, so now he's here to check up on me.
"I'm fine," I said as I whipped open the door, only to find Sharon standing on my porch.
And it almost hurts to look at her, she's so beautiful.
"I know you said you wanted to be alone," she began, her voice slightly unsteady but still so sexy and I'm so goddamn happy to see her.
I don't know why I was creating distance between us, except maybe to help her save herself from being stuck with someone like me, but I'm still so glad she's here.
"I don't think," I started, but she cut me off.
"I'm not staying. I just have to say something, so let me get it out, and then I'll go, okay?"
"Okay," I agreed, and now I'm nervous because I think she might actually be breaking up with me, and I guess I deserve it after ditching her tonight, but still…I hope like hell that's not what's happening.
"I don't know what happened today, or why you're upset with me, but…"
"I'm not," I said quickly. "I'm not upset with you."
"But," she continued purposefully, ignoring my protest. "I wanted to say…I mean, I should've said it already, and I was going to this morning, but then Wright was there, and he made that awful joke, and then Taylor, and then tonight I wanted to, but then you said you were coming here instead of home, and…okay, um… I love you."
Her uncharacteristic rambling almost had me smiling, and then she got to the end, and I can't believe what I'm hearing.
"You…what?" I asked, mostly just because I want her to say it again.
"No, you know what? You need to tell me what's going on. Why wouldn't you talk to me, to tell me what was on your mind instead of just leaving me to come here alone?" she replied, and God, I love that she's calling me out on it, right after telling me she loves me.
"I'm serious, Andy," she continued. "That really hurt. I mean, I understand if you needed to come here, or if you wanted some time alone, but obviously something else was wrong, and for you to shut me out like that, it's not right."
"You're right," I said immediately. "And I'm sorry."
And since she's still standing on my porch, I took a step back and said, "Do you want to come in?"
"No," she answered obstinately. "I want answers."
I sighed and looked skyward for a moment, and then decided that I may as well just come out and say it.
"I was talking with Wright today, and a few things he said really got me thinking."
"About us?"
"About how you could do better than hooking up with another alcoholic."
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and I recognize the action as what she does in an effort to calm herself, so I have a feeling I'm really in for it.
But maybe I deserve it. I suppose I was being kind of dumb.
"If you're trying to say you're anything like Jack, then you've completely lost your mind," she said firmly, with barely checked annoyance. "And Wright was just trying to get in your head because he's been hitting on me. And yes, I should've told you that sooner, but you should know better than to listen to anything he says. And we're not hooking up. We're in love with each other, remember?"
"Yeah, but I didn't know that until just now," I pointed out, unable to resist breaking into a smile. And here I thought this was a horrible day, but it's turned out to be the best one of my life.
Sharon Raydor loves me.
I feel like I must be dreaming again.
She held my gaze for a minute as my tease registered, and then she finally smiled.
"So are you over your idiotic notion that I can do better than you?" she asked, taking a step forward and putting her hand on my chest.
"Oh, you can. But I'm good with the fact that you don't want to."
"I'll take it," she conceded, and then she slipped her hands around my waist, hugging me tightly as she said, "I love you, Andy. I'm sorry if I made you doubt how I feel."
"I doubted myself," I told her, moving my hands over her back, appreciating the feel of her against me. It feels like it's been forever since I held her, even though it's actually only been around twelve hours.
After another minute, she pulled back and looked up at me and said, "You know how long it took me to get up to speed with us, right? Months longer than it should have. So trust me when I tell you that I've given our relationship thorough consideration, and I never once had any doubts about you. My denial was all about me, and whether or not I was ready to be involved with someone again, and I finally realized that I wasn't ready for just someone. But I was ready for you."
The kiss that followed her statement had me pulling her inside and closing the door behind us, and we clumsily made our way down the hall, never letting up with the kiss until we got to the bedroom, where I tugged at her clothes with the desperation of a recently released felon, having her down to nothing in mere seconds.
"You shouldn't have ditched me tonight," she whispered as she shoved my pants to the floor.
"Never again," I agreed, pulling her down onto the bed.
"Good, because," she began, but then her words escaped her as I pushed into her with a sense of urgency, needing to feel that connection with her after I so carelessly almost ruined it, and then she let out a contented sigh, a sound that just about did me in, but I managed to control myself, drawing out the pleasure until neither of us could hold back any longer.
And this time, when I relaxed on top of her, holding her close as we each worked to catch our breath, she said it.
"I love you."
And then she laughed lightly, this beautiful sound that had me looking at her with curiosity.
"It gets easier," she explained. "Saying it. Last night, it wasn't that I didn't feel it. Or hadn't thought about it. It was just that I couldn't say it. Because I've known for a while now that I love you."
I hugged her tightly to me as I whispered into her hair, "Oh, honey, I love you, too. So much."
Just because I don't know what she sees in me doesn't mean I'm going to question it. Not ever again. I'm just going to be eternally grateful that she sees something.
We laid together for a while, stretched out sideways across my bed, and then we finally got up and got dressed, with the intention of going back to her place.
Or home, as she referred to it earlier. Meaning, our home.
That thought makes me deliriously happy, too.
So I grabbed a few more suits, and threw some other clothes in a duffle bag, and then we headed for the door.
"We still have to deal with Wright for nearly two weeks," she said as I locked up behind us. "No more bouts of insecurity, okay?"
"None, I promise. In fact, I think I'd like to turn the tables on him."
"What do you mean?" she asked with caution.
And I'm not sure exactly what I mean, either, but I do know one thing.
He deserves to have someone meddle in his life.
And I'm the perfect guy to do it.
TBC...