Sharon.

Andy watched her as she poured her coffee. Her black satin nightie clung to her curves and her bare legs rested against the counter as she sleepily stirred in the sweetener. Her hair was still mussed from the night before and her long red layers hung over her bare shoulders. He smirked as she caught him staring and it made her grin. It was nice to have him around in the morning. It was nice to have him around all the time. The night before had been simply magical…and mind blowing. A few times. She hadn't expected Andy to have that sort of stamina at his age, but she sure was grateful for it.

He didn't have a shirt on, and she was grateful for that too. His boxers hung low on his hips. His chest-God, his chest. Police work certainly paid off when it came to Andy Flynn's body. Sixty years old and he still had the muscle definition of a twenty year old. She'd always wondered-the few times she'd slipped and felt his arm through his shirt it was muscular, but certainly the rest of him couldn't look like that. Oh, she was so happy she was wrong. She could see his muscles flexed as he moved towards her, ready to wrap her in his strong arms. His hands came to a rest on her hips as he pulled her in close, enveloping her in a strong, sweet hug. Sex with Andy had been fabulous. The morning after was more than she could have imagined. For the first time in years, Sharon remembered what it felt like to be admired, to be wanted, to be loved.

Sharon rolled over in her bed after hitting the snooze button, the memories from her dream still fresh in her mind. What the fuck was her first question. Had that really happened? She rested an arm over her eyes, dreading the day to come. Pope was on her ass for an unresolved case and Andy was dead set on being as useless as he could make himself lately. She let out a grumble and chided herself inwardly again for losing it with him a few days ago. She shouldn't have been so unprofessional. In hindsight, his little fling at the bar with Chris really had been nothing, and she wasn't interested anyway so why should she care? She brushed a strand of hair out of her face and rubbed her eyes before regretfully making her way out of bed.

She rolled her eyes as she looked down and remembered her black nightie's star appearance in her little dream. Surely she'd only dreamt of Andy because she was worried about her own professionalism. She'd crossed a line when she yelled at him the other day and now she was making herself pay for it. She felt the heat surface in her cheeks as she thought of his bare chest. "Get it together, Sharon," she mumbled and shook her head, trying to shake the image out of it. No sixty year old man looked like the man in her head, Andy or not, she might as well get over that right now.

She followed through her morning routine in a bit of a daze, preoccupied with her dream, and punishing herself for having it in the first place. Clad in a black pencil skirt and white sleeveless silk top, she grabbed her favorite pair of Louboutins out of the closet and slipped her feet in to them. It was already too warm to wear her blazer, but she'd take it to the office anyway. She didn't like not having the comfort of a blazer around her, but the July sun in LA was just brutal. One last look in the mirror and she headed out the door, landing a quick kiss on her foster son's head as she passed by him. By the time she got to the office, the dream would be out of her head. Period.

Andy.

Andy watched Sharon as she walked in to the office, sashaying silently past his desk save for the click of her heels on the tile. He immediately noticed her bare arms. She had nice arms-graceful, like a dancer, so he liked it when she didn't wear her coats and layers. There was something softer about her when she wasn't in her traditional "Captain Raydor" uniform. She was still as professional as ever no matter what she had on, but it was still a nice change. Of course, he hadn't really realized he cared until last week.

Sharon quickly disappeared in to her office. This case was taking a toll on all of them. The victim, a young woman named Amelia, was almost the same age as Sharon and Andy's kids. The kids were always the hardest-it made you realize how much you couldn't protect your own. Andy sighed. He was the only one in the murder room so there was nothing to distract him from the files on his desk. He glanced over them then threw them aside as he stood and walked to the white board, trying to make a crack in this case one last time before everyone got in for the day.

Sharon watched him through the window as he leaned against a desk, arms crossed as he stared at the photos of the victim. She had been pretty. She had been young. There was no reason for that girl to die. Sharon's heart broke as she watched Andy shake his head, clearly disturbed by the photos plastered to the white board with magnets. Bruises, cuts-they were everywhere. Whoever had killed Amelia didn't just kill her. They took pleasure in it, that'd been obvious. They mutilated her. The last case LA had seen as gruesome as Amelia was Elizabeth Short. She wouldn't let Amelia become another Dahlia. Whoever had done this would pay-and they would pay on her watch if it was the last thing she did.

Andy rested his head in his hand and sighed. He needed to talk to Sharon. This just hit too close to home. Sharon watched him carefully as he continued to contemplate the photos, running a finger over one before tucking his hands in to his pockets. He seemed more upset about this case than any other before. She hummed to herself as she pondered him. Maybe he was being useless because he was affected, not because he was intent on being an ass to her.

Christine.

"Thanks for picking me up, Dad." She smiled as she leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Her dad smiled back at her and took her bag, ever the gentlemen.

"No problem, little one. How's your Mom?" That was always his first question.

Christine rolled her eyes. You'd think twenty-two years apart would be enough for him to stop asking. "Mom's good. She's Mom. Busy with work, busier with Rusty. Still catching the bad guys in her Louboutins and playing Momma to whomever she can on the side."

John smiled. It wasn't that he didn't love Sharon. He just didn't love her the way he was supposed to. Sometimes he was sad it didn't work, most days he was thrilled to be in New York. Two people as driven as them could have never worked. It just was what it was.

"I'm glad to hear she's still herself." He winked at his daughter, opening the passenger door to his BMW and waiting for her to get in. She followed his instruction without speaking and took her bag from him, grabbing for her phone as soon as she was settled. She looked at her cell as her dad drove out of the parking lot, taking note of a few texts here and there. She grinned as she checked the last one-from James.

Last night was good fun, Christine. Get your butt back to LA fast so we can do it again.

He was British. He was a surgeon. He was a little bit perfect. It had just been impromptu drinks set up by a friend, but this could work. She was excited to keep talking to him.

"And who are we texting with that grin on our face?" John smirked as he pulled up to his daughter's Park Avenue apartment.

Christine blushed deep crimson and shrugged her shoulders, grinning. She reminded him so much of Sharon when she did that.

Sharon and Andy.

"Ok, go over this with me one more time, please." She sighed heavily as she looked at the doctor pleadingly. She didn't want to miss anything, but there were so many injuries it was hard not to. Andy hung back at the door, averting his gaze. His face was gray, like he was going to be ill. Sharon looked over at him but he wouldn't look back at her. Typical. The hardest part of the job and he's just going to hang back and let her do it. Typical Flynn.

"The first wound was a slit to the neck-but she had already been killed, or at least nearly there. Traces of formaldehyde are on her lips and nose, indicating there was possibly a soaked cloth held over her face." The doctor picked up the corpses arm, pointing to the crook of her elbow. "Here-there is an injection site. There was formaldehyde in her blood. Whoever killed her knew precisely what they were doing."

Sharon covered her mouth. She hadn't seen the body since the day it was discovered and even then she was almost too shocked to take it all in. Standing here, this close, was a whole new ball game with this case. Her eyes were the clearest crystal blue. She looked almost peaceful if you only looked in her eyes, but the rest of her face was gruesome. Sharon hummed and placed her hands behind her back, trying to keep her composure as the examination continued. Andy held fast by the door, his head still down, hands at his sides. As uncomfortable as Sharon was, Andy looked ten times worse.

"Two lacerations to either side of the face, precisely equal in length from the corner of the mouth to the front of the ear. One vertical laceration from the top of the rib cage to the pelvic bone. All three look as though they were made with a scalpel, but-"

The doctor stopped as the exam room door slammed shut. Sharon reeled; the case had her feeling jumpy as it was and the unexpected bang made her nearly crawl out of her own skin. "Jesus." She muttered as she collected herself. Andy was gone. She stared at the door for a moment, unsure whether to be concerned or angry. Andy knew it was protocol to have two officers in the exam room. Why had he just stormed out? He wasn't even participating, for goodness sake. After a moment she took a deep breath and composed herself.

"Will you excuse me while I make sure Lieutenant Flynn is alright, please?"

The doctor looked between Sharon and the young woman on the table. "Well, she won't be going anywhere." His tone was solemn, but it still made Sharon cringe. She responded with a curt not and opened the door, more than ready to be out of the room and away from the body.

She walked the length of the corridor and turned the corner to see Andy stepping out of the men's room, his face grayer than ever.

"Lieutenant Flynn, would you care to tell me what is going on?" Her voice was harsher than she'd meant it to be.

Flynn sighed, wiping his mouth. He'd been ill, but he didn't want her to know that. "Not really," he muttered, his head down.

Sharon nodded, then hummed. "Okay…then… would you care to finish this examination with me so we can go back to the station?"

Andy crossed his arms. He couldn't imagine going back in to that room if his life depended on it. "Not really."

Sharon sighed. This was ridiculous. If he wouldn't tell her what was wrong then he needed to buck up and do his damn job. This wasn't his first murder victim.

"Lieutenant Flynn, this is not an easy case for anyone. I am going to ask you one more time to finish this examination with me so we can please go. The rule requires there are two of us in the room."

Andy was so angry he could throttle her. Was she so blind she couldn't tell he was upset? Truly, deeply, inescapably pushed to his edge with this one? Perception was part of what made an officer good. Why the hell didn't she have any ability for it?

"I would have thought with some time you'd figure it out, captain, but you're just as oblivious as the day you danced in here. Do you even see the people in these cases, or do you just hide behind the paper work? You learn names now, I'll give you that, but you still can't do this, can you? You can't recognize that THAT, in there, is a young woman. Not a thing, not a stack of paperwork. She was someone's kid, someone's sister. I admire your ability not have a single god damn feeling, Captain Raydor, I really do, but get a grip."

Sharon was stunned. Andy had chided her before, he'd even yelled at her before, but it was never so personal. Tears threatened to fall and she took a deep breath to compose herself. It seemed like she'd been doing that a lot today, and it wasn't even noon. His insubordination would be dealt with later, but now was not the time for it. She took another breath and crossed her arms, guarding herself.

"Okay. We'll go." Her voice faltered as she tried to suppress her tears. "We'll go. I'll go get my bag."

Andy wouldn't meet her eyes. He knew he was wrong, but she just didn't understand. He watched her walk away as she headed back down the hall toward the examination room; relieved she was away from him.

Sharon grabbed her bag off the floor and looked at the doctor, trying not to look at Amelia. "I uh, I'm sorry, but we've got to cut this. You can finish the autopsy-please send me a report as soon as you've got one."

The doctor gave her a silent nod and Sharon walked out of the room, dreading going back to Andy. She didn't know much about her team personally, but she felt like this was out of character for him. He had snapped before, yes, but it was never this uncontrolled.

Sharon gave a nod as she approached him and Andy walked off with her in tow behind. The car ride back to the station was going to be miserable.