[ Part Eleven ]
Sharon opened the door and there stood Andy Flynn, currently in the process of running a nervous hand through his salt and pepper hair. His tie was askew, looking as if he had been unsuccessfully pulling at it to get it off earlier, his jacket was unbuttoned. How on earth had he managed to turn himself into such a mess in the course of fifteen short minutes? Sharon was acutely aware of her own state, her make-up removed and her simple dark blue satin pajamas expensive but not exactly flattering. He looked almost surprised when she appeared in front of him although, obviously, there was no other place for her to be right now. Mixed with the excitement and awkwardness of the situation, she almost didn't feel the little tug at her heart at the idea of being separated from her children on this day. He didn't smile when he pointed at her little suitcase whose handle his fingers were wrapped around a little too firmly.
"You forgot this one in my car," he said, his voice a lot more quiet than usual, almost subdued and her mouth suddenly felt dry. Being so eager to get away from him, she had completely forgotten about her baggage. And what irony that Andy Flynn, emotional baggage personified, would be standing here, uncomfortable as hell, delivering it to her. It also meant that he hadn't come back for her and that, too, pained her.
"Oh, thank you so much!" she exclaimed in an attempt to be polite enough to mask her own uneasiness. Erratic as she could be when she felt out of her comfort zone, she reached out quickly to grab the handle from him. Unprepared for her sudden movement, he didn't remove his own hand from it soon enough and their fingers collided gently, her fingertips sliding over the open palm of his hand. Her heart was racing now, leaving absolutely no uncertainty as to whether she was just lonely on Christmas Eve or still ridiculously attracted to Andy Flynn. She couldn't tell from the look on his face what he was feeling, but he didn't look especially happy with what had just occurred, his eyes dark and glazed over with something she was unable to identify. He most probably thought that touching The Wicked Witch in any way would expose him to horrible illness. "I totally forgot," she added weakly, stepping aside slightly. Andy's eyes darted around the room, probably evading hers who were trying to catch his gaze. She turned slightly found that he was taking in the broken glass on the floor, the puddle of white wine and the boxes that sat on every available surface.
"Didn't get a chance to unpack yet?" There was something new to his voice that she found startling as it sounded suspiciously like nostalgia. Turning fully around, she saw the mess through his eyes and heaved a sigh.
"Exactly. I was trying to finish all the paperwork so I could take a week off without a guilty conscience." She shrugged. "I'll take care of it when I get back."
A small grin appeared on Andy's face. "You have a beautiful view from up here. Why would you put the couch over there? You'll have your back to the windows."
She sighed again, leaning slightly into the doorway. "It's new. The people from the furniture store put it there. It's really too heavy to move by myself, so I am waiting for my neighbor to come back from his vacation."
He finally allowed their eyes to meet and smirked. She hadn't seen that smirk in years and it filled her head with images of him waking up next to her in the morning, looking at her like that.
"It would probably be very impolite if I didn't offer to help you with it, right?" He sounded almost weary.
Sharon gave a little hum that sounded tortured even to her own ears. As composed as she could appear on the outside in any given situation, those little hums always escaped her. "It's okay, really. I will have to move a few boxes away before there is even space to drag that thing to the other end of the room."
"Hm," he said, a look of indecision crossing his face, and his hand twitched as if he was trying to repress the urge to run it through his hair again.
She wasn't sure what the hell she was doing when she opened her mouth, taking a deep breath before asking. "But you did bring me my luggage. Would you accept a cup of coffee as a thank you?" For a second he looked as if he was going to turn on his heel and run away, then he shrugged with what looked forced nonchalance.
"I can't stay long, though."
Sharon was glad that he wandered into the living-room right away so he had no chance of seeing her shaking hands as she closed the door behind him. Internally admonishing herself to get a grip on her emotions, she followed him and busied her hands with the coffee maker. His outline looked so familiar against the nightly lights, both hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. He only came out of his reverie when she crouched down next to him to clean up the shattered glass.
"What is that about?" he asked.
"You startled me." Sharon disposed of the pieces of glass and the soaked paper towels. If she was being honest, he still startled her every time he looked at her. He didn't apologize, just looked back at the sky. Sharon poured them both mugs of coffee and when she turned around, he found his eyes on her, his expression void. She found it almost upsetting that she was now completely unable to read him. Andy Flynn, resident hothead, who always wore his heart on his sleeve, seemed cool and withdrawn today. She held the coffee out to him and blew the steam off her own.
"You're taking it black nowadays," Andy remarked after taking a sip of his own. She was puzzled at first, then she remembered that she used to have milk in it years ago.
"It's acquired taste, really. Raising two kids on your own and working full time will teach you that." She trailed off towards the end of her sentence, now suddenly aware that she was venturing into rather dangerous territory. Andy turned away abruptly, maybe because he wasn't interested in her tales or maybe because he didn't want her to see his face. She now regretted choosing her big mugs as it seemed to take much too long to finish the coffee with the awkward silence that hung between them.
"You can see pretty far from outside," she said quickly, trying to cover up the tension with a bit of cheerfulness, but it sounded forced even to her own ears. "Do you want to check it out?"
"Sure." Andy sounded like one of her bored teenagers which did nothing to take her nervousness away. Regretting her offer already, she opened the patio doors and stepped outside, grateful for the soft slippers on her feet. It was cold but not uncomfortably so and the wind that had been blowing all day was quiet now, leaving the air peaceful and calm. She heard Andy's shoes on the wooden floor behind her. Encouraged by the sound, she crossed the small balcony and leaned against the rail, looking down. They stood in silence for a moment.
"It wasn't easy to sell the house," she said softly. "but with both of my children in college, I would have felt lonely there, so I decided to try a fresh start."
He replied with a gruff snort that could have been appraising or understanding both. His silence and withdrawn behavior were beginning to unnerve her and the stark contrast to her longing for him made being in his presence almost unbearable. They had been sipping their coffees in silence for a while when she couldn't contain her shiver anymore. It was winter, after all, and her light silk pajamas were no match for the cold night air. She almost dropped her second drinking vessel for the night when she felt his hand on her back, high enough to be decent and low enough to feel slightly intimate, rubbing her back. She leaned into the touch, working hard to repress a deep sigh. If she was honest with herself, the touch would have warranted a moan. Her muscles were tense from the stress the previous days had inflicted on her and she thought back to all the times he had rubbed her back and shoulders when she'd been carrying Lizzie. It seemed like a thousand years ago and so much had happened since then, so the familiarity of the touch surprised her. She looked up at Andy, searching his face for a clue as to how he was feeling, but found none.
"Andy," she croaked, willing him to look at her. To really look at her. Working with him from time to time the previous year, he had never seemed to actually see her. He'd always either looked past her or through her, his eyes boring into hers with angry intensity but still inexplicably out of focus. She realized this only now and at least it made the nagging feeling go away. He turned his head, but not far enough for the shadows to leave his face. His hand slid off her back.
"Maybe we should go back inside."
Sharon was both disappointed and oddly relieved at his words and she nodded, leading the way back into the living-room. When she had turned around from closing the windows, she caught him schooling his features just in time to conceal whatever expression he had been watching her with. She studied his face for a moment. The new lines, the familiar eyes and she grew uneasy almost immediately when she found him studying hers as well. Eighteen years were a long time and she was no longer thirty or forty. Or even fifty exactly. Her glasses and make-up still did a good job of hiding the signs of her age, but sans them she felt bare and naked. She almost shrank back with surprise when he reached out to cup her face but then she froze, his eyes now soft. The reappearance of that familiar expression after all this time almost made her sigh in relief.
"You're still so beautiful, Sharon." That said, he leaned down and captured her lips in a firm, demanding kiss. He wasn't as gentle as he used to be but she found his force even more arousing. Encouraged by his slight groan, she inched closer to him and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her. His body felt a little different, yet painfully familiar, as if the imprint of it had never really faded. Sharon ran her hands down his back and up again while he did the same, all the while kissing her with little bites thrown in that made her wince every time. His hand slid from her back to her breast, his thumb flicking over her nipple once, sending a shiver down her spine. Her last time kissing a man had been years ago and she was surprised how quickly her body reacted to Andy's touch. She tried to say something, to murmur it against his lips, but he didn't seem to want to hear it because he kissed her harder, making it impossible to say anything without pulling back and breaking the kiss. Sharon decided that she didn't care. There was nothing to be said anyway and relieving the tension that had been building all evening seemed like the most promising alternative. He didn't allow for her to get the upper hand or to steer him towards her bedroom. Instead he lowered her down onto the couch and began to undress her, all the while never breaking the kiss. She reached out to remove his tie but then abandoned the task in favor of his belt when he began to move against her, making her gasp with pleasure.
She knew that this would not be the slow, gentle lovemaking she was accustomed to from seventeen years ago. This was demanding and raw. Somehow he seemed angry. Maybe with her or maybe with himself and it ruled his bearings without actually making him seem aggressive. It felt more desperate than that and she was more than willing to go along with it. He buried his face in her neck when he came, biting down on her shoulder but not hard enough to actually cause her too much pain then kissed the spot, flicking his tongue out.
Sharon was out of breath when they stilled, feeling relieved and satisfied and still scared of what would happen next. Andy lifted his head from her shoulder, looking into her eyes, still panting. She was surprised to see actual disappointment in his eyes and she wondered where it came from. Andy squeezed his eyes shut and got off her, leaving her to shiver with the cool air on her naked skin as he grabbed his clothes and dressed.
"Are you okay?" she asked, pulling her blanket over herself to cover up her body. She suddenly felt self-conscious under his gaze and with sudden clarity she knew that what she thought had been the end of their dilemma had been the complete opposite.
"Yeah," he replied, his voice gravely. His gaze softened for a moment when he added: "I'm sorry."
"For what?" she asked him, her heart sinking while a feeling of dread made its way up her throat.
"We shouldn't have-"
"Why?" she interrupted him, unwilling to let him take the lead again. She had enjoyed his forceful way of seducing her, but she would not let him get away with this.
"The past is the past, Sharon. We should let it rest."
She grabbed his sleeve and forced him to sit down on the couch again, not caring whether he was uncomfortable or not. He ran both of his hands through his hair while she wrapped the blanket more firmly around herself, not about to have this conversation while he was fully dressed and she was completely naked.
"You kissed me first," she reminded him gently. "I wasn't aware how you felt about this or I wouldn't have let it happen."
The mask was pulled away from his face when he turned it towards her, pain suddenly shining from his eyes. She knew that this was not the time to be especially rational so she just pulled him into her and ran her palm over his cheek.
"What is it, Andy?" she whispered, kissing his temple.
"I've spent so much time trying to get over you, Sharon. I don't want it to start again." She didn't know whether to feel devastated or hopeful at his words and the tone he had said them in.
"But you can't leave me like this," she said calmly, allowing a little bit of humor to creep into her voice. "Naked on my couch like this."
Apparently it had been the right thing to say, because Andy's face relaxed, his features now just short of a smile. Encouraged by his positive reaction, she took his hand in hers and squeezed it. "It would make me feel a little cheap." She now grinned at him and inched closer, running the back of her free hand over his cheek. "Would you watch a sappy movie with me? I have cookies and I have hot chocolate."
For a moment he looked taken aback by her reaction but then he nodded slowly, his hand just inches away from caressing her face before he pulled it back. Something about Andy Flynn had changed since she'd last been close to him, Sharon thought. He wasn't as open anymore, somehow he, too, had resorted to locking his emotions away and numbing himself against pain. It hurt her to be the reason he had shut down, even eighteen years later. Andy pulled away from her and for a second she was worried that he would leave anyway, but he picked up her pajamas and handed them to her with a tentative little grin. Sharon stretched and reached for the remote. At least she had already unpacked her television set. Handing him the device, she rose from the couch and padded into the bathroom naked, pajamas in hand. Pausing in the doorway, she turned around again and found him looking after her.
"Staring?" she asked teasingly.
"Maybe a little," Andy replied and she chuckled before she went into the bathroom. She came back wearing yoga pants and a tank top a few minutes later, still in the process of wrapping her favorite black cardigan around her shoulders. Andy was in her kitchen, preparing the hot chocolate. He turned around when she came in, still looking a little nervous but a lot happier than before. He wasn't wearing his tie or jacket and had not put his shoes back on. His hair was still ruffled from when she had clawed into it earlier. She accepted the two mugs and fetched the cookies from the cupboard them led him back towards the couch.
The television was muted and Andy reached out to put up the volume but she caught his hand just in time.
"Andy," she said quietly, commanding his attention at once. He looked slightly worried, obviously unsure what to expect. "How did you know where I live?"
"Didn't you tell me the address when we left the office?" he tried half-heartedly, but they both knew that he was lying.
"No," she insisted. "I also never gave you my cell phone number and yet you called me on it after you were stabbed."
Andy looked almost pained now and she didn't understand why. She raised both brows to get him to answer. Andy just fixed his eyes on the television and grabbed hold of the remote before she could prevent it.
"Guess I just kept track of you over the years," he mumbled before he put the volume up, positively drowning out whatever she might have said. Sharon didn't really understand, but she also knew that there was no use in insisting. He wouldn't say a thing. The old Andy would have blurted it out, the new one would hide behind sarcastic comments until she gave up. So Sharon surrendered, contending herself with the knowledge that she would find out one day if she kept on looking into it. Leaning back, she made sure her shoulder connected with Andy's when she settled into the cushions. He made no move to touch her, but having him here was enough for the moment.
"It's okay, Gavin." Sharon spoke into the phone while carefully prying the drawn curtains apart. "I just spoke to my Captain. They found fingerprints on the letters, so chances are that they'll catch whomever sent them soon." She looked out into the night, the wet street glistening in the lights of the streetlamps, the rain having slowed down to a slight drizzle.
"Honey, I can come over. It is no problem at all," Gavin cooed at the other end of the line. "I just don't feel comfortable with you and your toddlers all alone while there is someone after you."
Sharon chuckled despite herself. "First of all, Gavin, Tommy is not a toddler. He is almost six. And secondly, my Captain dispatched someone to watch the house. Nice little unmarked car sitting right opposite my window. I should be safe for now."
She let go of the curtain and sat down on the couch, reaching for her cup of tea. Wine might have been more effective in calming her nerves, but she would not do anything that would numb her senses as long as someone was threatening her and her family. Over the course of the last week, three letters had arrived, written in an angry scrawl that spoke of fury and violence rather than careful planning. Whoever had written them had accused her of purposefully dragging a dead officer's name through the mud while threatening to harm her and family. Sharon suspected that they had been written by someone close to the officer who had been caught in a standoff a few weeks ago. At first, everyone had been horrified by his death, but her investigation had brought to light that the shooter had been an angry drug trafficker whom the officer in question had screwed for money in a heroin deal. Emotions throughout the LAPD had been running high and someone from the man's squad had yelled at her for five minutes straight before he was ready to accept that his trusted friend was a crooked cop. Whoever was writing the letters, her Captain had assured her that they would find him. A black and white, he had insisted, would scare him away if he decided to show up at Sharon's house, but she was glad that, apparently, her boss had given in to her request to send an unmarked car not to upset her neighbors.
"If I wasn't so worried about my manicure, I'd punch Jack in the face," Gavin announced at the other end of the line, only half-joking. "Taking another one of those long 'vacations' in Las Vegas when he should be there with you, protecting the kids."
Sharon sighed and leaned back into her sofa cushions, feeling the long day catch up with her.
"Even if he was in town, I wouldn't want him here, Gav. He might have traded alcohol in for gambling, but he is as self-centered and careless as he ever was. You know what happened last time he watched the kids."
A growl met her through the line and she smiled, touched by the fact that her friend was so angry on her behalf. It felt good to have someone in her corner again and with Gavin, fortunately, sleeping with her best friend and ruining everything was not an option.
"You mean when Lizzie almost fell down the stairs because he was too busy talking to his bookie on the phone to watch her."
Sharon had been home early from her weekend shift that day. Otherwise Lizzie would have tumbled down the stairs to the basement as Jack had not only left the door askew, but had also turned his back to her for who knew how long. Of course he had been apologetic as usual, but Sharon wasn't fooled anymore. They were separated now and Gavin was helping her file to make it legal, too. He was also urging her to get a divorce, but something kept her. She was the unfaithful one, after all, and divorcing the husband she had cheated on while carrying his baby seemed a little too much. Even if he didn't know about it.
"You need to divorce the prick, babe. I am still at the office, I can file it right away-"
"Gavin," she interrupted him. "You shouldn't be at the office anymore. You have your big day in court tomorrow and I will not let you ruin it by not getting enough sleep."
"You're no fun, Sharon," Gavin pointed out, making her smile yet again. The man always knew how to cheer her up even through the worst of times. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I told you I'll be fine." There was a knock at the door and Sharon tensed, her hand reaching for her service weapon that was fastened to her hip, disguised by her soft sweater so her children wouldn't be able to catch a glimpse at it while she made them dinner and sang them to sleep.
"What was that?" Her own alarm was echoed in Gavin's voice.
"Sergeant Raydor?" A familiar voice called. It was someone she knew, but not well so it took her a moment to recognize the uniformed cop's voice. "It's the LAPD. Just checking on you on Captain Shawn's orders!"
Sharon let out the breath she was holding. "It's just my babysitter," she almost giggled with relief.
"Okay, I'll leave you to him, but only hang up once you're sure it's your babysitter, okay?"
"Okay, Mom," Sharon replied. "Thank you, Gavin," she added affectionately. "Drop by tomorrow after court, will you?"
"I wouldn't even if you didn't want me to," Gavin replied. "Bye, honey. Call me if you're lonely or scared. I'll grab my machete and come over."
She chuckled again, her hand already on the front door. She opened it and looked into the familiar face of a young, friendly officer. Disconnecting the call, she opened the door fully. The young man was barely out of his teens, she thought, taking in his curly hair and round face.
"Good evening, Sergeant. I'm just here to make sure you know we're right over there." He pointed at a black and white squad car sitting right in front of her front yard. "There is no reason to worry. We've got you covered all night."
"Thank you, Billy," she said, opting for his first name just because she was so grateful for his presence. Talking to Gavin had calmed her down, but she still felt jittery and worried. Suddenly his smiling face blurred and went out of focus as her eyes were now trained on the unmarked car on the other side of the road. She tensed again, her body fully on alert. A squad car. When Shawn had sent a black and white police cruiser. The one harassing her, after all, was not unlikely to be a police officer. She knew that and Billy knew it, too. The young man turned around and followed the direction of her gaze, his hand on his belt to either call for back-up or reach for his gun. The second he turned, though, the car went into gear and sped off, the number plates indistinguishable in the dim light.
Sharon did her best to hide her shock, slowly backing into the door to be able to quickly excuse herself and check on her sleeping children upstairs. Billy nodded in understanding when she did so, gesturing for her to relax. As she headed upstairs, she heard his police radio crackle and then his voice: "I think we need back-up at Sergeant Raydor's house. Looks like someone is keeping track of her."
It took a moment until Andy's eyes focused on Sharon and the cup of coffee she was holding out to him.
"What time is it?" he croaked, running his palm over his face and yawning. Sharon smiled at the sight.
"Five thirty. My airline just called. I can take the first flight at eight to Salt Lake City." He looked as if he was only just remembering that it was Christmas morning. "Merry Christmas," she said softly.
"Merry Christmas," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck and glancing around the living-room. "Did I pass out during the movie?"
She took a seat next to him on the couch and nudged his side. "You did. I had to finish it by myself."
"Life of Brian came on at eleven thirty and you expected me not to fall asleep after Mrs Johnson's huge dinner?" He sounded almost irritated as he sipped from his mug. She didn't reply, just drank her own coffee, thoughtfully gazing at the view she hadn't quite gotten used to yet.
"You know," Andy said carefully. "I guess as of now your couch has been christened."
She gave him a small, telling smile. "Because we had sex on it?"
Andy suddenly looked serious again, slightly uncomfortable even. "Because I slept on it. Just like old times."
Sharon pressed her lips together and nodded; his lack of an expression following his statement did nothing to soften the blow. On the one hand she was grateful that he had just referenced their previous relationship and the bond they had once shared, on the other hand he had just very clearly told her that he wanted to be her friend, not her lover.
"I guess I have to go now. Have to change clothes before I head to San Diego." He got to his feet and she followed him to the door, noticing that he collected his tie and jacket in passing and without slowing down, then slipped into his shoes in a hurry. He turned around to face her, the door already open. His eyes were void again, the familiar veil back in place.
"See you," he said.
"See you," she answered the closed door.
A/N: Yay, I finished another chapter! I'll try to post as much as I can, but real life throws a lot of work at me lately. Poor Sharon, getting friendzoned. Now I will have to find time to write again soon. :-)