A/N- Okay. Two things: a) I'm SO, SO sorry I haven't updated since, like, September, and b) given that we now know more about Jack and Sharon, ect., I'll try and incorporate that in and make a few corrections. It's early-mid July in the story, now, too. Oh, well. Like always, I hope you enjoy this, please review, and let me know if you have any suggestions. I've got some more things planned out, and I'll have spring break in a couple weeks after midterms (I feel like I say that every time.), so hopefully I'll have more updates soon.

"You know how it is when you can talk to a stranger/ Someone you're sure you'll never meet again/

Soon we were laughin' and talkin' and drinkin'/ He said, "You must know, you're too good for him."

-Judy Collins, The Blizzard

"Jack!"

He burst through the front door in a burst of warm air, briefcase in hand. Sharon was standing in the hallway, wrapped in a bathrobe, her hair already neatly curled and pinned back. She had most of her make-up on, he could tell, and that made him feel worse.

"I'm so sorry, babe," he said, dropping his briefcase on the floor. "We ran overtime. I am so sorry."

She pursed her lips, but gave a noncommittal shrug. "Go get dressed. Ricky's sitter will be here in twenty minutes and I plan to leave when she gets here." She turned away and walked down the hall, out of sight.

Jack sighed. He had been catching up on work, papers he hadn't filled out the night before when he left to meet with friends. He berated himself mentally. Sharon had been looking forward to having the night out since she had persuaded him to go nearly two weeks before. He quickly hung his jacket up and followed her to the bedroom.

His best suit was laid out on the bed. It was a black three-piece, with an ivory vest and tie that matched her dress. He could hear hear moving around the bathroom, presumably finishing her make-up, so he quickly changed his clothes, pulling the vest on just as she walked back in. She didn't look at him, but came up to straighten his tie. Women speak two languages, one of which is verbal. The Shakespeare line floated through his mind as she patted his chest and pulled away.

"'A fool thinks himself a wise man, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool,'" he quoted.

"'The Devil can cite Scripture for his purpose,'" she replied sharply.

"'Wound me not with thine eye, but with thy tongue!'" He grinned. "You're getting the hang of this."

She shot him a look with her best poker face, but after a moment, the corner of her mouth quirked up, and she giggled.

"You are the hardest person to crack, Shar."

She smiled. "I work hard for the money." She turned away again and disappeared into the closet. He waited for her to come back out, and she did a few moments later. The dress she had was a shimmering ivory silken number, with a low back and halter top with a narrow v-neck edged in gold thread and seed beads. It had a high waist just below the end of the v- he didn't know what it was called- and then fell in loose pleats to the floor.

"Good God, Shar."

Her forehead wrinkled. "What?"

"You look stunning. Come here."

She stepped up to him, and he tilted her chin up with two fingers to kiss her gently. They broke apart as the doorbell rang and Ricky's footsteps pounded down the hall.

"Don't worry, I didn't smear your lipstick."

She smiled and turned away to get the door. Ricky pulled it open just as Sharon rounded the corner.

"ELSIE!" Ricky shrieked.

The girl stood in the doorway. She was seventeen, with blonde hair in two long braids. Sharon knew her family from church, and she came with several recommendations.

"Come on in, Elsie." Sharon closed the door behind her. "Ricky hasn't had dinner, but there's a box of mac and cheese in the kitchen and some frozen vegetables. Jack and I will probably get home around midnight. Is that okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine."

"There's movies and things in the living room, feel free to watch anything. If anything happens, you can call Jack's brother or my-"

"Mrs. Raydor, I've got it," Elsie smiled. "You said you were supposed to be there at seven-thirty, so you should get going."

"Thank you." Sharon turned to go back down the hall, but Jack stood in the way, her shoes and jacket in one hand.

"Your shoes, madame." He flashed her a boyish smile, and she couldn't help but take her heels with a laugh. She used his shoulder for balance as she pulled the heels on. She wobbled slightly before she found her footing, then took her formal summer jacket and pulled it on.

"Are you ready?" she asked.

Jack nodded. "I am. Is everything squared away?"

"Yes." She turned to Elsie. "We'll see you later. Have fun." She slowly knelt to Ricky's level. "Be good for Elsie. We'll get back after bedtime, so I'll see you tomorrow morning, okay?" He nodded his assent, and she kissed his forehead before rejoining Jack at the door. "Let's go."

The Police Commissioner's Ball was being held downtown, in a pretty hotel. Sharon and Jack walked in the door and were pointed in the direction of the ballroom. It was an enormous, high-ceiling room. One side was free for dancing and socializing, the other held dozens of small, round tables and a tables of hors d'ouvres. Waiters circulated with trays of drinks. Sharon noted that Jack glanced them, but just as quickly returned his gaze to swapped their jackets for tickets at a side room, and then walked in to join the others.

"I'm afraid I probably won't be a great dance partner tonight," she said lightly.

Jack laughed. "I didn't marry you for you dancing skills, sweetheart."

"I don't know if I should be insulted of not."

"All I'm saying is that you have many other wonderful skills." He paused, then added "There are several that don't even require having your feet on the floor."

Sharon's mouth dropped, and she thumped his chest with her free hand. "Jackson!"

Laurie Hotchkiss sat in a chair across the room in an elegant red dress, watching the exchange. Bancroft sat down next to her and pushed a champagne flute over to her.

"Enjoying yourself, Commander?" he asked.

"I hope she takes the transfer." Hotchkiss sighed deeply and took a long sip of champagne.

He snorted. "I'm doing well, thanks." He paused, watching as well. "You really want her, don't you?"

"It would do the people good to see a woman in a Captain's uniform."

"There's gonna be a lot of people pissed that you're jumping her through so many ranks."

Hotchkiss turned to face him. "Your department has two detectives and three lieutenants of various classes. She's a sergeant, and half your department outranks her. And the rat squad can't be run by four lieutenants, you know that."

He flinched at the slang. "Yeah, I know, but no one else cares. They're gonna be all over her, and they won't care if she's the best person for the job. Do you really think she deserves the whole of the LAPD at her back with knives?"

Hotchkiss didn't look at him. "She's got the chops for it. She can take the heat; I don't doubt that. I read her record. She shot someone dead six months out of the academy. Still a baby cop. She was still in college then, wasn't she? Most people aren't going to come back here after that, but she came back the day you cleared her."

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in thought. Several minutes later, Hotchkiss spoke again.

"She'll take it. She'll need the money soon enough."

"What?"

Hotchkiss shot him a look. "Are you blind, Lee? Look at them."

Jack was talking animatedly to another man. Flynn. Bancroft knew the man all too well. Sharon was standing slightly behind Jack, looking out of place.

"Yeah?"

"I talked to her partner. Her marriage has been on the rocks for the better part of the last few years. And you can see it just looking at them."

"I don't see anything. Don't you think you're being a little judgmental?"

"Maybe. I think it's true, though," she sighed. "I've been there."

"With Sam?" He was surprised. The last he knew she and her husband were doing well.

"No," she smiled faintly. "Sam and I are good. I'm talking about me and Jesse."

He made a noncommittal hum. "So you think you can see it coming?"

"Oh, it's coming," she replied.

Sharon excused herself from Jack and Flynn and made her way over to the tables. She looked around for someone she knew. Meri was still dancing, she knew. She saw Laurie Hotchkiss, but she looked deep in conversation with someone else, facing away from Sharon.

Someone tapped Sharon's shoulder, and she jumped. It was Andrea Hobbs. The DDA was wearing a pretty skirt suit and heels. She caught Sharon's glance and grinned.

"I wouldn't be caught dead in a ballgown. This is the best they're going to get out of me." She waved to an empty table. "Sit with me? You look like you need a chair and I'm here by myself."

Sharon nodded and they walked over to the table. "No date? I'm surprised."

Andrea laughed. "I'm here to represent the DA's office. We get one ticket, so no one really wants to go. I'm the newest, so... There's free food and music, so I couldn't say no, could I?"

"I suppose not."

They fell into easy conversation. They had met a few more times since the trial: a couple of run-ins, and then a casual lunch together. They were similar in many aspects, differing in a few. Andrea was single; Sharon had never finished law school. They kept talking through the evening. Andrea was asked to dance a few times, and Jack periodically swung past for a dance, each time telling Sharon he didn't want to keep her on her feet for too long.

After he dropped her off again, Andrea looked to her newest friend.

"If you want to keep dancing, don't let me hold you back."

"You aren't at all, don't worry."

"Are you sure?"

Sharon laughed. "Yes. I'm positive, Andrea. Jack is having fun with his friend, and my ankles are killing me as it is."

Andrea glanced over her shoulder. Sharon's husband as standing with a tall, dark-haired detective, Jack with a beer, the detective with a glass of some clear liquid.

"Ah."

"Mmm." Sharon caught Andrea's look. "It's not that bad. He's just. . ." she trailed off. "He's just Jack."

Andrea frowned. "Sharon, he's not 'just Jack.' You said last week he missed your appointment again."

"Almost. He got there."

"Sharon."

She sighed. "It's just a rough patch. He's been having a bit of a time getting cases that pay much. We'll get over it."

"You're too good for him." Andrea blushed as the words shot out of her mouth. "Sorry. Sorry, that was-"

"No," Sharon cut her off. "No, don't be. Part of the reason you're my friend is because I know you'll speak your mind."

Andrea could feel the heat on her cheeks. "But still."

Sharon reached over and patted her hand. "It's fine." She glanced up as something caught her eye. "I think it's time for me to go."

Andrea turned. Jack was making his way towards them, very slightly unsteady. She wouldn't have noticed, if she hadn't been looking. "Call me if you need anything. Have a good night, Shar."

"You too, Andrea." Sharon got to her feet, using the table for balance. "I'll see you later." She walked over to Jack. "Are you ready to go?" she asked quietly.

"It's just started, honey."

"No, Jack. It's eleven-thirty. We told Elsie we'd be back at midnight."

"It's that late?"

"Mmhmm." She threaded her arm through his and guided him towards the door. "Let's get our coats." They turned their tickets in and walked out the door, Jack leaning on Sharon slightly. She reached into his pocket, and fished around for his keys.

"What-?"

"I'm driving." She walked him to the passenger seat when they reached the car, and waited for him to fasten his seat belt, before closing the door and getting in behind the wheel. She started the engine and began driving away. Jack was chattering about something someone had said, but she didn't hear him. Andrea's words were echoing in her mind.

You're too good for him.