Hi all .
Here's the next instalment – I'm finally getting a bit quicker with my updates!
This chapter picks up right where the last one ended…
Thanks to Mellow_mel for the beta and the great character advice :)
You'll Get Yours – Chapter 11
The sound of Rusty's bedroom door slamming, reverberated through Andy's bones; he watched as Sharon, who still had her back to him, flinched at the unexpected force with which the door was shut.
Andy felt helpless; his heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears, his gut was tight and his palms were sweaty. "Sharon I…" He edged towards her, dropping the cushion - that he had hastily grabbed to hide his excitement - back onto the couch.
"Don't." Sharon spoke flatly as she wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. "Not now."
Andy remained frozen between Sharon and the couch; he was in a state of flux - his mind screaming 'What the hell did we just do?'
He looked on hopelessly as Sharon began to retrace Rusty's steps to the bedroom, however unexpectedly – she came to a halt in the foyer. "Later," she muttered weakly- her words were barely audible to Andy's ears, but before he could respond, she looked over her shoulder at him. Her expression was unreadable, but this time her words held considerably more conviction, "I'll call you later."
"Alright," Andy answered with a frown; he felt unsure if Sharon offering to call him later was a good thing – but instead of approaching with his usual bravado and questioning her motives, he simply retreated to the dining table to grab his jacket.
Andy had no doubt where their heated petting had been heading; Sharon had come at him with such force and shown no inclination to slow things down.
'If the kid had entered a few minutes later…' Andy cringed inwardly at the thought; had that happened, Sharon may have had a little more explaining to do.
'Does she regret it?'
As he approached the door to exit her apartment, he glanced down the hallway to see Sharon standing outside Rusty's room - poised to knock. They locked eyes for a brief moment, allowing Andy to glimpse her concern for the boy in her expression.
Andy knew then that now was not the time to have his own questions answered; in that moment, the only relationship that mattered to Sharon was of that with her foster son.
The lieutenant silently nodded his understanding, and quietly left the apartment.
xXx
Sharon heard the front door click shut; she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, resting her palm flat against Rusty's door on her exhale.
'What the hell just happened?'
She couldn't remember the last time she had let herself go like that. Sharon's excuses - her values - were all shattered into tiny pieces the instant that Andy's lips touched hers. So caught up in the sensation was she, that she had completely forgotten Rusty was even due home…
'How could I have been so irresponsible? So…selfish?'
But now was not the time for self-reflection. Bracing herself with yet another cleansing breath, Sharon knocked softly on the door.
"Rusty," her voice sounded distant, even to her own ears. "Can I come in?"
Sharon backed into the hallway's end table as the door opened abruptly, revealing Rusty with a stony expression on his face. He eyed his foster mother suspiciously, before his gaze travelled curiously down the corridor. "Is it safe to come out?"
"Of course," Sharon answered without missing a beat, as Rusty moved past her and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. "Please, Rusty," she followed behind, "let me explain."
"No need," Rusty waved his hand dismissively as he rounded the corner and opened the refrigerator door. "I lived in a car with my mom and her boyfriend remember? Trust me, I've seen worse."
Rusty's words were like dagger through Sharon's heart; she stopped suddenly in the hallway as if she had just been slapped in the face. 'My actions remind him of his mother…' She felt sick, "Rusty I…"
The young man poked his head out from the kitchen; upon observing Sharon's wounded expression, he appeared to take pity on her. "Look, Sharon," he softened his tone and the shut refrigerator door. "You asked me to come home straight from school," he crossed the apartment, strolling slowly towards her. "If you and Lieutenant Flynn wanted some 'alone time' – all you had to do was ask."
"Alone time?" Sharon's brow furrowed. "Rusty, what happened wasn't planned…and I…I would never ask that of you. Rusty, this is your home."
"Right," he responded half-heartedly and retreated to the sitting area; flopping down heavily on to the couch.
"Rusty," Sharon continued in a pleading tone, trying to express her remorse for making him feel uncomfortable in their home; needing him to know that he was loved and safe. "I am so sorry that you had to witness that…"
"Sorry your secrets out, you mean."
"My secret?" Sharon was taken aback, her confusion led her into the sitting area. "Rusty what on earth are you talking about?"
"About you and Lieutenant Flynn." Rusty spat out, hurt evident in his eyes. "Why didn't you just tell me, Sharon?"
Realisation dawned and Sharon felt herself relaxed slightly. She now understood the real source of her foster son's anger – he thought that she had kept something from him. "Rusty," she said softly, sinking onto the nearby arm chair. "There is nothing to tell."
"Didn't look that way to me – besides - Flynn works for you," Rusty screwed his face up in disapproval. "Isn't that like…unethical or something?"
"It just happened, Rusty and no…it's not unethical…it's…" Sharon searched her mind for the right words to describe her relationship with Andy; complicated, wrong, dangerous…exciting? She collapsed back into the chair and groaned, rubbing her forehead. "I don't know what it is."
"Wait a minute," Rusty sat forward on the couch, his eyebrows knotted together in concentration. "You said it just happened…do you mean that figuratively or like…?"
From the armchair Sharon observed the young man through her fingers - inwardly cringing at what she knew would be his next line of questioning.
"Did I…you know…did I interrupt your first kiss?"
"I…erm…" Sharon straightened in the chair; even though she knew that the question was coming, she was ill prepared with a response.
"I did! Didn't I?" A smile crept across Rusty's lips – his expression changing suddenly to one of amusement.
Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable under his gaze, Sharon got to her feet and rounded the arm chair, her hands searching for pockets that didn't exist in her dress; she wanted the ground to swallow her up.
"Oh my God, Sharon!" Rusty's chuckled to himself; reading his guardians awkward body language as an affirmative. "Did you just break a rule?"
xXx
Louis Provenza drove his vehicle through the tall iron gates of Ridgewater Psychiatric; an intimidating, sandstone structure perched atop a grassy bank – literally in the middle of nowhere.
The detective observed the imposing building distastefully as he parked his car at the foot of a wide set of concrete stairs.
"I hate mental hospitals." Provenza groused as he unfastened his seatbelt - wondering what fate awaited him on the other side of the large metal doors.
The fact he of all people was using his free time to help Darth-Raydor, was an irony not lost on the short-tempered Lieutenant. He had spent the majority of the two hour journey in rush hour traffic trying to figure out what had changed; he wasn't sure when or how it had happened, but Captain Raydor appeared to have blindsided him.
He liked her.
Well, Provenza surmised as he pressed the buzzer to gain access to the hospital, he liked Sharon; Captain Raydor was still a massive pain in his ass.
He didn't like her in the same way Lieutenant Flynn apparently did; following the captain around all day with a forlorn look in his eyes. No - to Provenza - whether he liked it or not, Sharon had stealthily crept her way around his crotchety defences and was now...an ally…a friend?
Maybe not quite a friend…but their mutual interest in the wellbeing of Rusty Beck had certainly brought them closer together…and the way that his best friend gazed at Sharon across the office lately – it was probably a good thing that she was no longer Provenza's sworn enemy.
Flynn had never been very good at keeping his feelings to himself and judging by the way he had skulked back into the office after being at Sharon's apartment that afternoon, Provenza figured that Raydor had thrown her rule book at his partners libido.
But Provenza wasn't blind; he knew that Sharon had a fondness for Flynn – much to his annoyance, he had witnessed first hand the lingering looks and casual flirting. Flynn could be a persistent son of a bitch when he knew what he wanted; Provenza was sure that his partners irritating ability to wear people down could break through even Raydor's stubborn defences.
"Can I help you?" A female voice crackled over the intercom, drawing him from his thoughts.
"Lieutenant Provenza, LAPD."
There was a loud buzz from inside the building, followed by the clunking of a lock being released; Provenza hauled open the heavy door and entered the foyer of the hospital.
He found himself in a small waiting room; the white wash walls were dotted with notices about security and a brown bench, that had seen better days, lined most of the space.
"Can I help you?" The same voice from the intercom - this time with less crackle - sounded from behind a pane of reinforced glass to the Lieutenant's right.
"I'm here to see Ian Banston," at the stern looking nurse's lack of response Provenza elaborated, "I rang ahead."
The nurse pushed her glasses up her nose and sniffed, before shoving a clipboard through a small gap at the bottom of her window. "Sign in."
He took the clipboard. "Can I have a pen to sign this with or do you want my signature in blood?"
The nurse scowled at the Lieutenant and tossed a pen through the narrow gap, before opening a metal box to the left of her 'cage'. "Show me your id, then place it and any firearms you are carrying into this box."
"Why, of course." Provenza smiled sarcastically at the nurse – whose nametag read J Biggins – as he simultaneously signed his name and thrust his ID badge against the window. Dutifully he placed the required items in the box, which the nurse then promptly slammed shut.
"So, Nurse Biggins," he passed the clipboard and pen back through the window. "Tell me, where did you go to charm school?"
xXx
Rusty watched as Sharon absently pushed a piece of broccoli around her plate. She'd hardly touched her dinner – and Chinese was usually her favourite…even if it was reheated take out from the night before.
"Is it not good?"
"Hmmm?" Sharon looked at him – his question dragging her from a dreamlike state.
"The food." He signalled with his fork. "Don't you like it?"
"No, it's fine…" She dropped her own fork on to the table and pushed her plate backwards. "I'm just not very hungry, that's all."
"There's a lot going on, huh?" Rusty asked casually, popping a piece of chicken into his mouth.
"Too much," Sharon concurred, resting back in her chair. "How are you holding up?"
The young man rolled his eyes, "oh I'm good – it's you that I'm concerned about."
"I'm fine, Rusty," Sharon said unconvincingly, getting to her feet and taking her plate to the sink.
"Well," he scoffed. "If we're both fine then I guess there's no need to talk about it." The boy snapped, finishing off his last bit of Kung po chicken and washing it down with a swig of soda.
"Rusty," Sharon addressed him with a stern glare from across the kitchen counter. "If the break-in is bothering you – then we need to talk about it."
"Why do you do that, Sharon?" Rusty asked exasperatedly, slamming his soda back onto a coaster.
"Why do I do what?"
"Brush things off like that – deflect things on to me?" He got to his feet and with his empty dish in hand, moved to stand across the counter from her. "You are not fine Sharon, nobody would be fine in your situation. If I'm required to spill my heart out to you, or - or to a shrink or whoever every time something slightly unsettling happens – why won't you just talk to me?"
"I am the adult here, Rusty," Sharon stiffened her posture and scrapped her uneaten Chinese into the garbage disposal.
"I'm 18 now Sharon."
"It is still my job to keep you safe and well and…" She softened her tone slightly, placing the dirty crockery in the bottom tray of the dishwasher "…not burden you with my problems."
"But don't you see, Sharon?" He rounded the corner and came to stand in front of her as she shut the dishwasher door. "You not telling me how you are feeling is affecting me."
Sharon's eyes glistened with unshed tears, "I don't mean it to affect you Rusty. I'm sorry that you have to be in the middle of all of this…"
"You're not getting it!" Rusty raised his voice, interrupting her ramblings. "We need to talk about what's happening – but not just about how it affects me. I care about you, Sharon - and when someone you care about is hurting…you hurt too."
A tear escaped and fell down Sharon's cheek and she wiped at it self-consciously before pulling Rusty into a hug.
"When did you become so smart, huh?" She teased, giving him a tight squeeze before releasing him.
"I just know you," he took a step back shrugging shyly. "You can't bottle things up forever, Sharon."
"Wise words, indeed." Sharon straightened dress and ran her fingers through her hair. "Okay young man…" she sniffed and moved to open the freezer compartment of the refrigerator. "…I think this calls for ice cream."
Rusty smiled as his foster mother moved into the sitting room with the mint choc chip ice cream and two spoons; it appeared that Sharon was finally ready to open up to him.
xXx
Ian Banston looked like of his father; he was tall, of slim build with a fair complexion and deep set green eyes. Those eyes now scrutinised Lieutenant Provenza from across the large table – before flitting up to glance at the Taser armed security guard that stood by the door to the interview room.
"Must be my birthday." The younger man said snippily.
"Why's that?"
"Cops already came to see me today – I've never had a visitor here other than my lawyer."
"Well, we like to be thorough."
"They wanted to know about Sharon Raydor..." he sneered, revealing a set of perfectly straight teeth. "I'll tell you what I told them; that bitch got what was coming to her."
Provenza stared stoically at the inmate, deftly quashing the anger that was rising in his stomach. "You'll get yours bitch."
"What?" Ian asked, a frown creasing his brow.
"That's what you used to write on your little notes that you sent Sharon Raydor, isn't it?"
"That's right," Ian cocked his jaw and relaxed cockily back in his chair. "I also said it to her when I smashed her face in with my fist – what's your point?"
In his mind's eye, Provenza saw the photographs of Sharon's injuries from her attack. He recalled her statement from the file – the fact that her kids had witnessed this animal beating on their mother in their own home…
He cleared his throat, "I want to know what you meant by that."
"That she'd get her comeuppance," he shrugged. "That bitch ruined my life, detective."
"Lieutenant," Provenza corrected him.
"Whatever," Banston continued. "She had an affair with my father and when my mother found out…"
"Yeah, yeah I know the story." Provenza mirrored the younger man's dismissive tone. "Sounds to me like your father ruined your life – not Sharon Raydor."
The young man's eyebrows retreated to his hairline. "Hey, my father was fine before their affair started. He was a good father, a good cop…"
"A good cop? Your father made money from trafficking young women into the US from Europe – to be sex workers. He was a disgrace to the badge."
"That was never proven," Banston protested.
"Only because your spineless dad killed himself before the trial."
"He killed himself because of what happened to my mother!" Banston yelled slamming his fists on the table, causing the guard to take a step towards them. "They were arguing about Sharon when my mom hit her head. It was an accident, but if Sharon hadn't come between them – none of this…" he gestured to himself. "…would have happened."
"It takes two to tango kid," Provenza waved the guard off and continued his interrogation. "Besides, I knew your father and I know Sharon Raydor. They were not having an affair – he made that up so that he could use her as an alibi,"
"That's not true," he leant forward in his chair, cuffed hands resting on the table. "I saw them once."
"You were just a kid, you don't know what you saw,"
"I was eight years old - not stupid! I know what I saw in Florida, and that bitch destroyed my family," Ian seethed. "If I'd had the chance to tell my story in court, we wouldn't be sitting here now."
"Right," Provenza rolled his eyes, not for a second believing the young man's story. "Someone having an affair with your father makes your beating on her in front of her kids justifiable. You plead insanity Ian, that's why you didn't get a trial."
Ian scrunched his fists into tight balls. "Well, that's all gonna change – my lawyer tells me that I can appeal."
"This lawyer of yours got a name?"
"John Fredrickson."
Provenza wrote the name in his notepad. "He came here to see you recently?"
"You know he did. Why else would you be here? You guys are just worried I'm gonna be released."
"Sorry to break it to you, Banston – but we've got you banged to rights," Provenza flipped his notepad shut and got to his feet. "I've never heard of this John Fredrickson guy – he sounds like a hack to me."
"Bullshit," Ian also got to his feet, towering above the lieutenant on the other side of the table. "Why else would you be here?"
"My Captain received a letter this week," he said with a casual shrug. "I felt the need to follow up on it."
"Who the fuck is the Captain and what does the guy receiving a letter have to do with me?"
"I'm talking about Captain Raydor, you idiot." Provenza frowned. "Wait, you didn't know she was a captain now?"
"What?" Banston's eyes were wide as he took in this new information, "they promoted that bitch?"
xXx
"Sharon?" Andy answered his cell phone, mere seconds after it started to ring on his coffee table; he had been waiting all night for her to call.
"Hi, Andy." Sharon said breathily - she sounded tired, he mused – wondering if she was calling him from bed. "I'm sorry it's so late, I just had a heart to heart with Rusty; turns out we had a lot to talk about."
"It's okay," Andy said, perching on the arm of his couch; he felt so relieved to hear the sound of her voice. "Is he okay with...you know?"
"He's…fine actually," to Andy's surprise, Sharon held a hint of amusement in her tone. "He was more upset that he thought I'd been keeping my relationship with you a secret."
"Oh yeah?"
"I know," a nervous chuckle escaped her lips. "Honestly, I don't know where he thinks I'd find the time."
"Yeah," a brief silence crept into their conversation before Andy got straight the point; he was sick of skirting around his feelings for Sharon. "But could you?"
"Could I what?"
Andy was unsure if Sharon genuinely didn't understand his question, or she just needed to hear him say it – either way, he played along. "Could you find the time?"
He heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, it appeared Sharon hadn't expected him to cut to the chase so quickly. "Andy I," she inhaled deeply. "I must apologize for my behaviour earlier – I don't know what came over me…I…"
"I do." Andy cut in to her musings.
"You do?"
"I saw it in your eyes, Sharon. You can't deny it; you wanted me as much as I wanted you."
"That…" she faltered. "…may be the case – but it's complicated. I'm married and I'm your boss and…"
"Again with the excuses." Andy snapped bitterly as he got to his feet and paced his lounge. "How many more years are you going to be in the police force Sharon?"
"Andy,"
"Three, four, five years, max?"
"I don't think…"
"We're both nearing retirement; there's an expiration date on our careers, Sharon – are you really going to let that stand in the way of a happiness that could potentially last until the day you die?"
"I…what?"
"How many chances do you think we have left at this, Sharon?"
Sharon was silent now; she hadn't expect him to say that, he knew. She had probably assumed that he just saw her as some kind of conquest.
"I can't even begin to understand the complexities of your marital arrangement, Sharon…," Andy continued his tirade, "…but Jack's an ass. Do you really think that he has been faithful to you all these years? You deserve better." It wasn't the most profound thing that Andy had said, but it brought Sharon back into the conversation.
"I agree." She said simply, before elaborating. "I agree with everything you have said, Andy – but it's not that simple. I need some time…" she sighed audibly, her breath quivering with emotion. "Andy, this is huge."
"It's life changing," he concurred. "Look, Sharon…I'll wait for you. I'll back off and wait for you – but you have to promise me one thing?"
"What's that?" Sharon asked cautiously.
"That you will make this decision for yourself."
"I will,"
"I mean it, Sharon. Not for your career, not for Jack or your church – not for even for me."
"Okay," she answered firmly. "I will, Andy – I promise."
"Good," he answered with a smile, satisfied that he had finally made his point and hopeful that he stood a chance. "See you at the office tomorrow, Captain?"
"Yes, Lieutenant," she cleared her throat. "I'll see you tomorrow."
A minute after Sharon heard the phone click off at Andy's end, she still held the receiver to her ear; Andy had just dropped a bombshell.
'Can he really see us spending the rest of our lives together?'
She shifted against her pillows and dropped the phone to her chest.
'Can I?'
TBC
Thanks for reading :)
As always, I'd love to know what you think so far!