If I owned these characters, I would not be working a full-time job while finishing a full-time graduate program. I am just borrowing them for the day…

A special thanks to gingersnapped907 for reading to make sure I wasn't missing words. Any mistakes are actually mine.

Chapter 9: Plans Change

About a week later

"I'm sorry that I'm late. Judge Grove asked me to stay for a conversation after he gave his decision," flows out between me gasping for breath from running from the courthouse. I had told Andy that I should be able to be here by 5 for dinner tonight. It's now close to 6pm as we were delayed in starting with the Judge.

"Sharon, relax. It's ok," he replies. "It's not like I don't understand your job. What did he want to talk to you about?"

"First, he told me that I needed to remember my professionalism when it comes to Rusty and I need to do a better job of letting him live his life and make his own mistakes. Then, he started asking some very pointed questions about some rumors that he had been hearing. I really don't want to talk about that now."

"Would you be more comfortable if we didn't have dinner out tonight? I can stop and pick something up on the way on the way to wherever you want to go – your place, my place or just go hang out by the ocean again. It's up to you."

"Our reservation is probably gone by now. How long is the wait tonight?"

"Well, I made our reservation for 6:30 just in case things took longer at the office than we thought they would. I figured if we were early tonight, we were ok to get a table quicker, but not later. It is up to you."

"Oh." It really is going to be my decision tonight. Do I want to eat in a restaurant that will have lots of people around or is it easier to just go to one of our homes in order to actually continue with the conversations that today's meeting made me realize that I needed to have with Andy – especially if the rumors have already started going through the courthouse? The conversation that we need to have needs to not occur in public. There are too many ways that it could be misinterpreted by anyone who overhears any part of it and the last thing I need is for it to get back to Taylor. "Well, I guess we need to eat. Will this be quicker or will that little Italian place by yours be quicker? I'm suddenly having a strong craving for their carbonara with extra bacon." I hold his gaze to let him know that it's not that I don't want to be seen out in public with him, but that I have a lot that I need to talk to him about – not in public.

"Sharon, here are my keys. Just let yourself in. If you go in my room, the bottom drawer of my dresser contains a few t-shirts and gym shorts and sweatpants. Something in there should actually fit you. You left your sweater at my place the other night. Make yourself comfortable. I'll pick up dinner on the way home and we'll spend however long talking that you need to tonight. You said extra bacon, right?" I shake my head yes. "Do you mind if I get it on the side so we can still split dinner?" I shake my head no. In less than thirty seconds, Andy has once again read my mind, put it at ease, and changed plans because I don't feel comfortable with the original plans. Not only that, but he wants me to go into his bedroom without him being home and help myself to his clothes. I won't do that, but it is really quite sweet of him to offer. "Sharon?" I hear Andy whisper my name as if he doesn't want to jar me. "Are you ok?" I pull myself out of my thoughts and realize that he is holding his keys out for me to grab.

"Sorry, Andy, I got lost in my thoughts."

"You know we don't have to do this today, right? We can do dinner some other time if you want to go home instead."

"No. I just need a little time to think."

"If you are sure."

"Yes, Andy." As I reach to take the keys out of his hand, his lips brush against my hairline and he quickly pulls back.

"I'll see you at home then."

As I start to walk back to my car, the complexity of the simplicity of what just happened hits me. Andy seemed to realize that I needed to talk more than we needed to "go out" for dinner tonight. He volunteered to change his plans, not caring that we were changing plans at the last minute, in order to make me more comfortable this evening. Not only did he suggest that we change plans, but he was making the offer for me to be as comfortable as I needed to be without having to take the time to go home first. To me, it means everything that he can read me without having to entirely state what is actually going through my head. It's as if he knows me better than I know myself. That with the small ways that he wants to keep physically showing me that he cherishes me makes me wonder just what I'm getting myself into. While it might seem simple to the outsider, it is actually extremely complex and completely unexpected at this stage.

By the time to I arrive at Andy's place, I am starting to feel the effects of the lack of sleep over the last several months. Today was an emotionally draining day – on many fronts – and I am half-tempted to back out of dinner tonight. However, I have Andy's keys and I cringe at the thought of having to go home and make dinner tonight. I sigh as I get out of the car and am thankful that I remember the pair of flip flops that I have in the car trunk. I might as well stay for dinner. This is not my first trip to Andy's, but it is the first time that he has given me his keys to let myself in without him being here along with the first time that it wasn't pre-arranged beforehand.

As I walk in, I stop and take a moment to just look around. The place is just as immaculate as it usually is when I visit. I smile as I notice that my sweater is neatly placed on the back of his recliner so I pull off my jacket and switch to the sweater which smells like Andy. I don't let my thoughts dwell on that as I take a moment to remove my shoes so that I can strip off my hose and put on the flip flops. Strangely, I feel as comfortable here as I do at home. I notice the blanket that has become a staple on the back of his sofa. He has noticed that I frequently get cold in the evenings so has started keeping it on the back of the sofa. I move into the kitchen to get glasses, plates, and silverware out and set on his dining room table. Feeling like I have at least slightly contributed to the meal, I go and sit down on the sofa pulling the blanket around me. Before I know it, my eyes are drifting closed as the exhaustion takes over.