Andy POV

I've learned a lot about Sharon in the months that our friendship has grown.

I've learned even more about her in the past four and a half weeks, since we became intimate.

And I love every little detail.

Once we cleared the air between us last week - or rather, once she called me out for being an idiot - we shifted our focus onto being us.

More open communication - meaning, don't withhold anything from each other, even if it's difficult or upsetting or potentially jealousy-inspiring.

Honesty about insecurities - mostly mine, of course, but I've discovered that she has some, too, and talking about them when they crop up has helped tremendously.

Because being us means we're a team, working together, rather than two individuals who happen to be dating. The latter might work for some relationships, but it's not what I want, and it's not what she wants, either.

We've also become very honest about our feelings. I can't count the number of times she's said I love you since that night at my house ten days ago, but it's a lot. And I love it. She's even said it to me in front of Rusty, which took him and me by surprise.

"Kevin's going to be here in a few minutes," she stated last Saturday evening. She was in the kitchen, stirring something that smelled really good, and Rusty was pacing around, clearly a nervous wreck about us meeting his boyfriend, and I had just come in the door, after being sent on a last-minute trip to the market.

"You need some help?" I asked her, putting the milk in the fridge before embracing her from behind, taking a second to peek into the pot.

"What is that?" she asked, sidestepping out of my arms and looking up at me.

"What's what?"

"That smell?" she questioned, and the way her eyebrows furrowed and her nose scrunched, I figured it was something bad, so I sniffed myself.

"Oh, I think it's tuna salad," I answered as I rolled my eyes. "Provenza left his lunch trash in the car yesterday, and it kind of stunk up the car."

"And you," she said.

"It's not that bad," I argued lightly, reaching for her again, because having her in my arms is always preferable to not.

She let me hold her for a minute, but then just as Rusty came into the kitchen, she said, "Andy, I love you, but you're going to have to take a shower before Kevin gets here. Or at the very least change clothes. It's…bad."

Rusty froze, staring at both of us, and I tensed up, even though Sharon was still in my arms, but she stayed relaxed, tilting her head back to kiss me on the cheek before saying, "Go. You only have a few minutes."

So I left the kitchen, heading for the bedroom, but I lingered unseen when I heard the beginning of their conversation.

"What?" I heard Sharon ask innocently.

"It's just…you said…you're in love with him? I mean, I kind of thought maybe, but…"

"Rusty, he stays here most every night," she said reasonably.

"Yeah…"

"So do you really think I'd be sleeping with him if I weren't in love with him?"

I thought he might balk at her reference to our sex life, but he didn't, or at least not verbally.

Instead, he said, "Well, um…no," and I could hear the change in his tone, like it hadn't really occurred to him to put the two together, sex and love. "And Flynn…he…"

"Yes, he loves me, too," she answered, and I smiled at how I could hear the smile in her voice when she said it.

We've come such a long way. And really, I guess it shouldn't have surprised me that she'd express her feelings for me in front of Rusty because it's important for her to have him know, to understand that I'm important to her, and that we didn't enter into a physical relationship lightly.

Especially considering he's dating someone now.

Anyway, that was Saturday. And after I showered, and after Kevin arrived, and after we had dinner, Rusty and Kevin got ready to leave, to go to a party at a friend's.

"Home by…" Sharon said leadingly as Rusty hugged her goodbye.

"One?" he asked, and then he turned to me and gave me a hug, too. Not something he usually does. In fact, I think he's only ever done it twice, and both times were at special occasions.

It made me feel good, like he's fully accepted me into the family.

"One-thirty," I offered with a smile.

The two boys left shortly thereafter, and after we locked up, I turned around to find Sharon raising an eyebrow at me.

"One-thirty?" she asked.

"He's eighteen," I reasoned, even though I never would've told him that if it hadn't been for the welcoming hug. In fact, I wouldn't have said anything. I would've left it up to Sharon.

"True," she mused, sliding her hands around my waist and resting her cheek against my chest.

"And I like Kevin," I continued as I stroked my hands over her back. "He seems to have his head on straight."

"Hmmm," she agreed. "I like him, too. Okay, so…if I have to wait up until one-thirty, I guess that means you're going to have to keep me entertained."

I was happy to oblige. I never imagined I'd have such an active sex life at my age. Even when I realized I was in love with Sharon, that was just about feelings, and I didn't really have any expectations of the physical aspect. I mean, I hoped it might happen one day, but I never considered it would happen every day. But Sharon's a very passionate person, not to mention gorgeous and alluring as hell, and she seems to want me every bit as much as I want her, so yes, we put our Saturday evening at home alone to very good use.

Of course, I put this morning to pretty good use, too.

We worked late last night, and by the time we got home, we were both so exhausted that we stripped down and fell into bed, both of us asleep within seconds of hitting the pillows.

So this morning, Wednesday, when I woke up and saw that the alarm wasn't going to ring for another seventeen minutes, I decided to capitalize on our time.

"What time is it?" she mumbled when I swept her hair back from her neck and began kissing my way up to her ear.

"Early."

"Then why are we awake?" she asked stubbornly, but then I trailed my fingers up her side as my lips continued their gentle assault, and I knew I had her when she let out a pleasured sigh as my hand covered her breast.

"Well, I'm awake because I've got a beautiful naked woman in bed with me. I don't know why you can't sleep," I said, my words playful even as my exploration of her body became more intense.

She moved onto her back, looking up at me with those green, green eyes, and the wave of love and lust that hit me was just so strong, and I think it was for her, too, because instead of responding, she simply reached up, her fingers gliding into my hair until she was cupping the back of my head, and then she brought me down for a kiss, and it was just…downright inspiring.

It made me wish I'd woken up earlier than T minus seventeen minutes.

But I did make every one of those minutes count, even the last two, which were spent just holding each other and breathing.

"You're going to pick up Jones this morning, right?" she asked me, her fingers stroking through my hair.

"Yeah, he's due at work at nine. Me and Provenza will be waiting for him."

"You're taking Wright with you."

"Is that a question?" I teased. It's not, I know. That little jerk has been more than happy to ride my ass for the past ten days.

But what he doesn't know is that ever since last Tuesday - the day after I almost blew everything with Sharon by being an idiot - his relentless so-called insights into me and my relationship with Sharon haven't bothered me a bit.

Because I know how she feels about me.

And not only that, but we've been looking into him.

And we've found some interesting stuff.

Nothing incriminating. Not yet, anyway. But interesting.

Like, we know for a fact that he's a liar. Not surprising, really, but still…I can't figure out why he lied, and that bugs me.

So far, we've been investigating him under the radar, though, so I haven't confronted him about any of it. But I'm looking forward to that day.

"No, it's an order," she answered, kissing me firmly once more before rolling over to turn off the alarm and then get up from the bed. I stayed put and watched her walk across the room, and when she got to the bathroom doorway, she looked back at me and said, "You aren't getting up?"

"Oh, I am. In a minute. I'm just enjoying the view first."

She put her hands on her hips and gave me her best admonishing look - tough to do considering her lack of attire, but she managed to pull it off as she said, "You can't afford to be late, Lieutenant. You're committed to staying out of trouble, remember?"

And I have been good. In spite of every nasty, passive-aggressive thing Wright's said to me, I've been very good. Maybe because I know I'm going to catch him in something more condemning than a lie. Or maybe it's because I'm no longer worried about losing Sharon since she tells me she loves me on a regular basis. Or maybe it's both.

Anyway, that was this morning, and now it's early afternoon and Tao just gave me another curious tidbit.

Because yes, the entire squad is subtly investigating Wright. We all hate him. That case we had last week, with the dead body in the trunk…he almost ruined our plan, when we brought in the suspect, by spouting off when he shouldn't have, alerting the guy to our lack of evidence. Fortunately, Sharon was savvy enough to still get a confession, but it was no thanks to Wright.

At our next crime scene, Wright was there, checking the sign-in log and handing out gloves and booties.

As if we didn't know to put them on.

"There was a detective back home who ruined a slam dunk on a serial killer just because he came into a crime scene without covering his shoes," he said solemnly.

"No kidding," Provenza grumbled. "They don't teach that in the academy up north?"

"Wait, do I have to put it on both shoes?" I asked sarcastically.

"Laugh it up, Flynn," he retorted, then he made a note in his book, mumbling as he wrote, "Doesn't respect the rank of his superiors."

I wanted to point out that if he were superior I would respect him, but I kept my mouth shut.

That happened a few days ago, and now we're just about to solve the case, since my partner and I brought in our suspect this morning.

And we're down to the last three days of being saddled with Wright. Not only have I learned that he didn't have a wife who died last year, or a first wife who was too good for him, since he's never actually been married, but now Mike just told me that he can't find Wright's name in the SFPD academy roster.

"His DOB is August 9, 1950," Mike said as I moved closer to his desk and looked over his shoulder towards his monitor. "That should've put him in the academy around '72."

"Yeah," I agreed, narrowing my eyes to read the screen.

"Well, I checked from '68 to '78," he told me. "Nothing."

"Maybe he didn't go to the academy in San Francisco, sir," Sanchez said quietly, still sitting at his desk, but listening to our discussion.

I shifted my eyes towards Sharon's window, where she's in her office with the creep right now. Again, I really hate that she has to spend so much time with him, but I trust her.

And she loves me.

Something I can't get enough of hearing, or even thinking.

"Hey, Andy," Tao said, snapping his fingers in front of my face, since he'd lost my attention. "Don't you see enough of her at home?"

I looked at him as he sat smirking at me, and I heard Julio snickering. It's been pretty typical, since our unplanned coming out last week, them making jokes about us.

I don't mind.

"Nope," I answered with a grin, and then I shifted my focus back to his monitor as I asked, "Okay, so we need to find out where he went. Where he lived before San Francisco. Hey, can you access their personnel files? The SFPD, I mean. Not the full jacket, but just the basics, like where he was before there."

"Maybe," he said, already tuning me out to get to the task at hand. I left him there and went back to my desk, and then I got a call that Jones' lawyer was on his way up, so I said to Provenza, "Our suspect's attorney is here. You ready?"

"Let the captain know," he said, standing up to put on his jacket.

Gladly, I thought, walking over to her office door. Any opportunity to interrupt whatever that dirtbag might be saying to her.

"Seriously, you have to try it," he was telling her as I knocked and poked my head into the room. "Oh, hey, Flynn. I was just telling your captain about this great restaurant that just opened up. They make the best martinis in L.A. Oh, I guess maybe I shouldn't have said that to you."

He shrugged at Sharon, I think in an effort for her to commiserate with him, but I tell you, I've gotten so used to this guy's tactics, that it just doesn't bother me anymore.

"If the captain liked martinis, I'd be sure to take her there myself," I said. "But since she doesn't…"

I trailed off, just smiling smugly at Wright for a moment as I put my hands in my pockets, and then I moved my attention to Sharon.

"Captain, Jones' lawyer is on the way up, so me and Provenza are going to see how much he's willing to cough up."

"Are you asking her, or telling her?" Wright questioned, his stupid little notebook out again, and his pen in his hand.

"I'm keeping her apprised of the progress of her initial order," I pointed out with forced calm. "Which was to question the suspect."

"Huh," he said blandly as he made a few more notes.

"Did you call DDA Hobbs?" Sharon asked me, ignoring Wright as we've grown accustomed to doing.

"Not yet. Should I?"

"I'll do it. She's in the building," she said as she picked up her phone. "Go ahead and get started, and I'm sure she'll be in electronics by the time you need her. I'll be there in a minute, too."

Two hours later, Jones had fully confessed, and Hobbs gave him a deal for life, with the possibility of parole. All in all, a good afternoon, I think.

I left the interrogation room, and parted ways with my partner, deciding to grab myself a cup of coffee before going in to finish up the paperwork, and the break room is where I ran into Wright.

"You arrogant little son of a bitch," he growled, grabbing onto the front of my shirt and shoving me back against the refrigerator before jamming his forearm against my throat.

"What the…"

"Shut up!" he yelled. "I'm doing the talking now, got it?"

I have no idea what's gotten into him, but I sure wish we had video in the break room because this right here would be his ticket out of here. Without visual proof, though, it'll be tough because no one will believe that I didn't start it.

Well, Sharon will believe me. Taylor, too, I think. But that's about it.

"What gives you the right to look into my life, huh? My private life," he ground out.

And he's not quite tall enough for his physical attack to have the right kind of effect on me, but I'm not fighting back. Not yet, anyway. So for now, he's holding me only because I'm letting him.

"Sucks, doesn't it?" I responded with a smile.

"It's my job to look at your life. It's none of your damn business to look at mine."

Someone passed by the break room, and Wright must have caught sight of them, because he suddenly took a big step back from me, even though he still looks like he's ready to spit nails.

I just adopted a more casual stance and said, "Got something to hide? Like maybe a glaring lack of wives? What was that all about?"

"Yeah, I lied about that, so what? Having a dead wife usually gets me laid."

And okay, so now I want to hit him.

But I kept my cool.

"And the story about the wife who was too good for you?"

It was his turn to smile, crossing his arms over his chest as he puffed out a little, saying, "I wanted you to see how ridiculous it is. You and Sharon."

He barked out a laugh as he shook his head, and then he said, "You've made her the laughing stock of the LAPD. You know that, right? And yeah, so I made that shit up about me, but it was just so you'd see yourself. Maybe save her a little bit of humiliation."

I counted to ten in my head and thought back to this morning, right before leaving home.

Sharon taking my face in her hands and kissing me purposefully before saying, "I love you," just as she's done every day before we leave for work, as a last reminder for me before having to deal with Wright.

Simple yet effective.

"So this was all just about getting Sharon?" I asked him, and I'm pleased with my composure. "Because if you'd just asked, I could've told you it would be a big waste of your time."

"We'll see," he said dismissively, and then he turned towards the door, grabbing the handle before looking back at me and adding, "If I catch you snooping around in my life again, though, your ass is mine, got it, Lieutenant?"

He left, slamming the door behind him, and I took another deep breath before heading for the coffee machine. I decided to fix Sharon a cup, too, just to give me an excuse to go into her office, and when I did, I found Wright back to his usual smiling self, kicked back in one of the visitor's chairs like he owns the place.

I kept my visit quick, but it gave me a second to make eye contact with her, to brush her hand as I handed over the cup. I winked at her before going back out to my desk, and by the time I sat down, I was feeling pretty good again.

Great, actually, because I like that we've rattled Wright.

It tells me he has something to hide.

"Hey, Andy," Tao called to me, after I'd been working for about an hour, just as I was finishing my report on Jones.

I got up and went over to his desk, and after glancing towards Sharon's office to get a visual on Wright's location, Mike gave me the quick rundown.

"Are you sure?" I asked him when he finished, and I can't even begin to express the satisfaction I feel rolling through me.

"I checked," he said firmly. "Twice."

A broad grin spread across my face, because Mike Tao checking once is usually enough for me, so twice…yeah, this is good.

And now I know what it is that Wright was afraid I'd find.

TBC...