A/N- I am so sorry. I won't promise quick updates this time, because it doesn't seem to be happening. I won't let this sit for half a semester or anything, haha, don't worry about that. It's just taking me a little longer to adjust to crutches than I thought. Ah well. Can't have everything, I suppose. Let me know what you think!

Do not get me wrong, I cannot wait for you to come home/

For now, you're not here, and I'm not there, it's like we're on our own.

-The Fray, She Is

"What?" Sharon stood frozen, her back to Hotchkiss.

"I'm not blind, Sarge. I know what I'm looking at."

Sharon turned around, fingering her lip. "It was an accident, I swear."

Hotchkiss raised her eyebrows, clearly unconvinced. "That's what they all say."

Sharon rolled her eyes at the cliché. "I-"

"Before you start, tell me honestly. I can't do anything without your consent, please realize that."

"I was standing right behind Jack- my husband- and he turned around and clipped me. It was an accident."

Hotchkiss looked skeptical. She folded her arms across her chest and leaned against Sharon's car. She sighed, but didn't say anything. She finally broke the silence after a few moments. "Sarge, Sharon, you're going to be one of the most powerful women in the city in a few years. I have no doubt of that. You need to be. . . authoritative. You're going to be the woman little girls dream of being."

Sharon looked down. "I'm telling you the truth, ma'am." She paused. She didn't particularly want to lay her personal life before the commander of the Special Operations division, but she couldn't see any other way to convince the woman. "Jack and I have had our ups and downs, but he'd never. . . he'd never do anything to hurt me."

"Yeah?"

Sharon scowled. Jack might have made some bad decisions, but she had promised to stay on his side, for better or worse. "Yes. Jack's a good man."

Hotchkiss seemed to appraise her for a moment, but then shrugged. "Alright. I believe you; it's your call."

Sharon was surprised by the sudden about-face.

"I'll see you around, Sarge."

"'Bye," Sharon replied, slightly confused. She watched the older woman go, then walked around her car and slid into the driver's seat. She drove home, deep in thought. When she got to the house, the driveway was empty. Jack's car was gone.

She parked, quickly, and lifted Cat out of her car seat and hooked the box of FID manuals under her other arm. The front door was locked, the way she'd left it, so it took her a moment to get her keys out of her pocket and get the door open. She dropped the box on the hall table, closed the door, and walked though the house.

"Jack?" she called. "Jack? Are you here?" She didn't think he would be, but maybe, just maybe, he'd come back and his car was in the garage. With that thought, she spun around and ran to the garage door in the mud room, throwing it open. "Jack?" His name echoed on the concrete. There was no silver sedan waiting in the dark. "Dammit," she growled in a sudden fit of anger. "Damn you, Jack." She could feel tears starting to well up, and it only annoyed her more.

It seemed like she was headed in the same way she always went after a fight with Jack, even if he wasn't there. Whenever they fought, about bills, about work, about Jack are you drinking, again?, they ended up angry at each other, and Jack would be the first to calm down. He'd be calm and Sharon would be in tears. It had happened more times than she could count in the past eight years they'd been married.

It didn't seem that long, she thought, as she walked back to the kitchen. They'd met in college, and Jack had proposed the year before they graduated. Sharon had put him off for a year, saying they at least needed to finish their undergrads before they did anything crazy. They had married two months after graduation, bought a small apartment, and started school again. Sharon dropped out after her first semester. They couldn't pay for two sets of tuition and the apartment. She picked up the first open job she could find: a patrol opening for the LAPD.

It seemed like everything had dissolved after that. Within a year, she'd shot someone. It was justifiable, but that didn't make her feel any better about killing a man. Jack picked up a new job and new friends. He was out of the house almost more than he was in it. A couple years after that, he was going to graduate and pay Sharon's way through school. She never re-enrolled. She'd found that she was pregnant, right before Jack's graduation, and they had decided they'd need two jobs to pay for a kid.

After Ricky was born, she thought she'd work a few more years to save up, and then go back. The job wasn't bad. She had some friends, she was making decent money. Then it had happened again. She hadn't known what to tell Jack, at first. He was gone so often and even when he was home, he wasn't entirely there. She had told him eventually, and he seemed thrilled. They had done well before he started sliding downhill again a short while after her announcement.

And now he was gone. Truly gone.

She sighed. Maybe this was an opportunity. Maybe this was a chance for her to start clean, without having to drag Jack along behind her. He was a weight she was used to carrying, and it would feel strange to unchain herself. Maybe she needed to do it, though, she thought. Maybe she just needed to let go of what she had been dreaming of.

Dreaming of, she realized. She'd always been dreaming that things would be better, that she'd go back to school, that she'd be a lawyer, that Jack would clean up.

She looked around the room. Sunlight was streaming in the front window, and splashing across her books, Ricky's toys, a a few of Cat's shoes scattered around. She had what she needed: two children who loved her, a roof over her head, a steady job. She snorted slightly. She had a better job now. She could pay her own way, whether or not Jack came back.

Jack waited until Sharon's car was gone before he let himself into the house. When he had left the previous night, he had walked blindly through the streets. He had walked all night, and come morning, when he'd sobered up, he'd realized how lucky he was that no misfortune had befallen him.

The house was silent, eerily so. It was bright, bathed in light. Sharon always liked the curtains open, he thought absently. He picked his way through the house, careful not to disturb anything. He pulled a large suitcase down from the top of the hall closet and ducked into the master bedroom. He pulled his suits from the closet, some normal clothes, his dog-eared law textbook, his two best pairs of shoes, folded them into the case.

He paused by Sharon's dresser. There were several framed photos on top. There were a few of just him and her, one of just Ricky, Ricky and Sharon, Ricky and Jack, a posed one of all three of them, and one he had taken only a few months before. Sharon was sitting on the sofa wearing her uniform, and Jack remembered she'd been tired and complaining about how tightly it fit when Ricky had come running in and launched himself at her, waving a handful of animal crackers. He had been excited about something, Jack couldn't remember what, and the boy's high spirits had carried over to Sharon.

Jack had snapped the photo when they were all laughing. It was the last time he could remember them all laughing. He set the photo back down sharply and backed away. He felt bad for what he was about to do, but it'd be worse if he didn't do it.

He pulled a stack of envelopes from his back pocket and set them on the bed. Sharon would figure it out; she always did. He wasn't- couldn't- pay them, and leaving them unpaid would just make everything worse.

He could crash with James from the office for a few days, while he looked for a new job. He'd heard about a few openings at a firm in Vegas, maybe he'd check it out. Vegas was a good place to vanish to, he thought suddenly. And it was close enough that he could come back if he wanted to. He just needed a break, some time away.

Away from what? He looked back at the photos. Away from Sharon? Is that it? She was perfect, she was everything he'd ever wanted in a woman, and maybe a little more. She was too much, he decided suddenly. That had to be it. They just needed a little break. She had so much energy and he couldn't keep up with her all the time. That was it. That was all it was. He'd just pull himself back together, get some R and R, and be back before long. She'd probably be glad of the break. Girls liked alone time, sometimes.

He nodded to himself as he slipped back out the front door. It would all be just fine.

A/N- Reviews are love. Virtual hugs to all who review.