Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters below – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author Notes: Right. I know it's been bloody AGES since I updated and I apologise for that…In my defence I have moved job, house and been on holiday since the last chapter, so I've not spent ALL that time procrastinating .
Thanks to my fabulous beta Mellow_Mel (TMI!) for her help with completing this story, and listening to my persistent whining about writers block!
Chapter Rating: Somewhere between a T and an M?
You'll Get Yours – Chapter 17
Sharon hung up the call and clutched her cell phone to her chest with one hand; the other gripped the edge of kitchen counter – the granite surface, cooling her heated palm. The desperate voice mail Andy had left, was replaying in her mind - and the mixed emotions that message stirred up, were throwing her thoughts into chaos.
Just hearing Andy say that he needed her – his tone stripped of the usual bravado...
Sharon ached to see him…but past experience kept her rooted to the spot; the scars of her marriage made her doubt her judgement - severing that connection between yearning and action.
Her inclination to carefully analyse every single emotion...it was currently winning out.
She tentatively placed her phone on to the counter, staring at it longingly, as if willing Andy to call and put an end to the internal squabble between her head and her heart.
'Maybe I should just call him?'
Sharon looked at her watch – it was almost 10.
It was quite late; although Sharon knew that time was really of no consequence. Her hesitation was borne from the situation requiring an element of spontaneity – a personality trait more synonymous with the man she so desperately wanted to see. When it came to affairs of the heart - Sharon was far from impulsive; her marriage to Jackson had certainly proof of that.
'But Andy is not Jackson!' Her subconscious screamed – and eventually she chose to listen.
"I'm being ridiculous," Sharon muttered under her breath as she swiped the phone from the counter and retreated to her bedroom.
Rusty, who was currently absorbed in the latest episode of his favourite sitcom, spared his foster mother a curious half-glance as she swept past him and headed down the hall.
Sharon closed the bedroom door behind her, shutting out the canned laughter from the TV, and took a seat on the bed – her fingers deftly finding Andy's number on her cell-phone as she sat.
But then she froze.
'What do I even say to him?' She scowled down at his number on the phone screen…she knew how she felt about Andy…but to actually articulate it…the right words escaped her.
Her hands fell to her sides and she looked to the heavens with a sigh; frustrated with her sudden loss of confidence. If the shoe was on the other foot – Andy would be banging the door down to see her – she knew.
However to Sharon, being the one to suggest that they move their relationship forward, was a terrifying prospect. What if it didn't work out? What if one of them was transferred? Or retired?
"How many more years will you be in the police force, Sharon?" Andy's words from earlier that week mocked her indecision.
It was true; both she and Andy were approaching retirement…not that either of them intended on handing in their badge anytime soon...but what would happen once they did?
It wasn't just the ramifications entering into relationship with a subordinate could have on her career that concerned Sharon…it was because she would be taking that plunge with Andy Flynn.
It was well known that Andy had a penchant for dating women half his age.
Sharon flopped back on the mattress and stared at the ceiling - she chewed her lip thoughtfully, just as self-doubt gnawed at her insides. 'What if we take the plunge and he gets bored? What if he's disappointed?'
She groaned exasperatedly before casting her gaze along the comforter, across to the cell phone she still held firmly in her hand.
'Why is this so hard?'
xXx
"Why do I even pay to watch this crap?"
Andy sat on his couch in a faded grey LAPD t-shirt and his boxer shorts - remote control in hand – angrily jabbing it in the direction of the TV set. He'd been channel surfing for the longest time, trying to find something to watch that could draw his mind away from thoughts of Sharon. His half eaten lasagne sat in front of him on the coffee table – the day's events had left his gut too twisted to eat.
Ordinarily, when he were alone and his mind drifted to thoughts of the leggy brunette, Andy would simply…release the tension on his own - but tonight he felt conflicted. His emotions were being pulled in opposing directions – flitting between the metal imagery of Sharon soaking in the tub…and the realisation that today, he had almost lost her.
He drew his eyes from the TV for a second to scowl at his phone; she was driving him insane and the worst thing was, that there was absolutely nothing he could do about it.
'Sharon…I'll wait for you,' as he recalled, were his exact words. He had agreed that he would back off and wait for her to make her decision. 'Smart move…jackass.'
The ball was in Sharon's court.
"This is going to be a long night," Andy grumbled as he returned his attention to filing aimlessly through the channels on the TV guide.
xXx
"Rusty?" Sharon hurried into the living room, placing her purse on the floor as she took a coat from the hooks by the front door.
"Yeah?" The young man paused the TV and turned his head to see Sharon pulling on her leather jacket in the foyer.
"I'm going out for a while…" She explained as she tugged her hair free of her jacket collar and grabbed her keys from the phone table.
"I can see that." Rusty twisted to rest an arm across the cushions of the couch. "And where might you be going at this late hour?" He asked teasingly, his eyes narrowing suspiciously as he took in his foster mothers' casual appearance; to his knowledge, Sharon had never worn jeans to a crime scene.
"Out." Sharon drew out the single syllable, raising her eyebrows to communicate her disapproval at his playful interrogation.
"And, what time will you be back?" Rusty pressed on, a smile twitching at his lips now; he was unable to stifle his amusement at the reversal of their roles.
"Well, if you must know…" Sharon bent to collect her purse from the floor and slung it over her arm as she contemplated her response.
'If I can't even be honest with Rusty about Andy, then really – what is the point?
She eventually conceded with the truth. "I'm going to see Lieut...Andy," she corrected herself. "I'm going to see Andy."
"Oh really?" Rusty shifted to kneel on the couch facing her, a mischievous grin lighting up his face.
"Yes, really." Sharon felt her cheeks warming, but couldn't help but smile at Rusty's response. It was a relief to her that he was taking the Andy situation so well – that said…there was absolutely no way that she was going to let his teasing of her slide…
As she pulled open the front door, she glanced over her shoulder at Rusty - and with smirk she added "so don't wait up."
Sharon smiled to herself as she shut the door on her foster son's horrified expression - yet as she walked towards the elevator, her mirth was quickly replaced with nervous anticipation at the task that lay ahead.
xXx
When the buzzer for Andy's apartment sounded, it startled him out of an unexpected snooze.
He squinted at his watch – it was almost 11pm. "Who in the hell...?" He groused as he begrudgingly pushed himself off of the couch and ambled towards the intercom – but in his dazed state, he misjudged his footing and clipped the corner of the coffee table with his leg.
"Son of a bitch!" Andy stopped his advance temporarily; pausing to rub his wounded kneecap – but the buzzer sounding for the second time called for his attention. "Alright, alright, I'm coming!" He yelled as he hobbled the remainder of the way to the door and yanked the intercom receiver off of its perch.
"Yeah?" He enquired gruffly, his voice, which was still thick with sleep, deftly communicated his annoyance.
"Andy?"
'Sharon?' The smooth tone of Sharon's voice cut through the lieutenants sleep induced haze in an instant; though her unexpected presence at his door appeared to have severed his ability to verbalise an actual response.
"It's Sharon. Can I ah…can I come up for a minute, please?"
"Uh, yeah…" Andy eventually offered in reply. "Yeah - come on up." He pressed the button to release the door, and placed the receiver back on the cradle; the plastic groaning as he released it from his vice-tight grip.
'Sharon's here…' he frowned at the intercom as if it held the answer to his question. 'So what the hell does that mean?'
'Sharon's here – you idiot!' Andy snapped out of his trance and into panic mode as he took in the disorderly state of his living room.
Ordinarily, Andy was very particular about keeping an orderly living space (and car, and desk) - but in light of recent events, he had found himself distracted. Having struggled with the feelings that he was developing for his boss, the lieutenant's usually productive downtime, had now simply become - time spent moping on the couch.
"Shit!" Andy hurried to the table to grab his left over dinner, before retreating to the kitchen – and throwing the lasagne and the plate it sat on, into the trash. He quickly returned to the sitting area to stack magazines and hide varying items under the couch – before he heard a soft knocking at his front door.
Andy stopped what he was doing and backed away from the couch – giving the area a final 'once over' before turning towards the door. After a cleansing breath, he released the lock and pulled the door open.
"Uh…hey," he awkwardly stammered; Andy's ability to offer Sharon anything more 'suave' in greeting was lost the instant that he laid eyes on her. It was a rare treat to see Sharon in anything other than her work attire; even though Andy was very appreciative of how her fitted office suits clung to her svelte frame – he really liked her in jeans.
Conscious of his staring - but not concerned enough divert his eyes right away – his gaze hastily travelled up her denim-encased legs and hips, then over her black leather jacket, to meet her eyes. Although what he saw in Sharon's expression made Andy instantly regret his blatant – albeit brisk – ogling. The Captain was blushing.
"Andy, I'm so sorry – I shouldn't have just dropped by…"
"What?" The Lieutenant frowned, confused by Sharon's sudden U-turn. It was only when he followed her flustered gaze, that he realised he was currently standing in his doorway wearing only a T-shirt and a pair of dark blue silk boxer shorts. Now it was Andy's turn to blush.
"Ah crap." He responded ineloquently – raising a muffled laugh from Sharon. "I was just dozing on the couch - completely forgot to put on my pants." He offered her an apologetic smile. "You want to come inside before one of my neighbours reports me for indecent exposure?"
"Sure," Sharon laughed at the concept, though as Andy stepped aside to allow her entry, she still hovered on the periphery. Before Andy could question her hesitation, she touched her hand to his shoulder, "Andy, you're bleeding."
"I am?" He frowned.
"Your leg," Sharon explained and nodded in the direction of the knee that had collided with the coffee table just moments ago. She was right; the skin was indeed broken and a small trickle of blood was currently working its way over his knee cap and down his shin.
"Oh yeah," he shifted on his feet as he peered down at the injury. "So I am.
"Well, do you have any band aids?" Sharon asked, her eyebrows raised, a bemused smile forming on her lips at his bizarre behaviour.
"Uh, yeah," Andy ushered Sharon in and shut the front door. "In the bathroom; take seat, I'll just go see to it…"
"Oh nonsense," Sharon dismissed him with a wave of her hand, placed her purse on the floor and toed off her heeled boots. "You are the injured party here," she told him with a smile. "Now, where is your bathroom?"
"Down the hall, second door on the left – band-aid's are in the medicine cabinet." He explained as he made his way into the sitting area, careful not the bleed on anything. "Thanks, Sharon."
"Not a problem," she called over her shoulder as she headed for the bathroom. "Having raised an accident prone son, I'll have you know that I am an expert in the art of treating boo boos."
"Right," Andy muttered as he scratched his head as he took a seat on the couch; a lot had transpired in the past few minutes - and he was still a little dazed from sleep.
He lifted his leg to rest it on his inanimate aggressor – the coffee table – and as he inspected his injury, Sharon remerged carrying a box of band aids, a bottle of iodine and some cotton balls.
She placed the items she had gathered on the floor, then removed her leather jacket and hung it over the arm of the couch, revealing the plain black tank-top she wore underneath.
"Okay…" she said as she perched across from Andy on the coffee table and looked carefully at the small wound on his leg. "Just a little scrape," she muttered absently, and tucked her hair behind her ears. "Could you bend your leg a bit for me?"
To demonstrate her request, she placed a hand under Andy's leg to help him bend it; her fingers were cool against the sensitive skin at the back of his knee and he felt the stirrings of, what could be quite an inappropriate and embarrassing response to her nursing his wound.
Thankfully, as she wiped over his injury with a cotton ball soaked in iodine, Andy's arousal was quickly banished by the stinging sensation of the antiseptic.
He flinched in response and Sharon rose her gaze to meet his, a playful smile on her lips. "Don't be such a baby."
"What?" He asked incredulously at her scathing look. "It hurts."
"How did you do it?" She enquired as she wiped the blood from his shin.
"Picked a fight with the wrong table." Andy joked, watching her intently as she concentrated on fixing his knee; he couldn't help it - to see her unguarded at such close proximity…it was a rare treat.
"Well, that table certainly won." Sharon glanced up, a lopsided smile on her lips.
"Yeah, I guess so." He continued to watch her, mesmerised as she disposed of the spoiled cotton ball, placed the small blue band aid over the wound and secured it in place. Andy still struggled with the concept that Sharon would even be interested in a guy like him – yet here she was – in his apartment taking care of him.
"There you go," she said with a firm smile as she affectionately patted his other knee. "All done."
"Uh, thanks." Andy cleared his throat and sat up a little straighter – Sharon's touch making him suddenly very conscious of the fact that he was only wearing boxer shorts. "You're not going to kiss it better?" He asked waggling his eyebrows suggestively – feebly using humour in an effort to detract from the effect she was having on him.
"Don't push it, mister." Sharon pursed her lips in mock annoyance, but when Andy reached out to take her hand, her eyes clouded over and her expression turned more serious.
"Sharon?" He questioned her as he dropped his leg from the coffee table and reached out to cup her face in his hand; his heart warmed as instead of pulling away as expected, she leaned into his palm. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she said unconvincingly.
"You really scared me today, you know that?" Andy ran his thumb soothingly along her cheekbone.
"I know," she smiled softly. "I heard the voicemail you left."
Andy paused his ministrations; unsure of what her admission meant. Sharon seemed to sense his unease and gently removed his hand from her cheek and wrapped it in both of her own – squeezing his fingers reassuringly.
"That's the reason I came over, actually." She explained quietly, her green eyes studying his reaction through her glasses.
"So you didn't just come over just to play Florence Nightingale?"
"I guess not." She spoke softly and cast her gaze down to their entwined hands.
When she didn't elaborate, Andy shifted impatiently on the couch. "So…" he tugged gently at her fingers, causing her to look up at him. "You're going to have to help me out here, Sharon" his eyes pleaded with hers. "I don't want to misinterpret your meaning…"
"Well," Sharon inhaled deeply and shifted sideways so that she now sat directly in front of him. Andy welcomingly widened the space between his knees to accommodate her; his hand never leaving hers. "I've been thinking…"
"You have?" Andy swallowed audibly, his throat suddenly parched.
"I have, yes." she smiled tightly. "Andy, if you are still interested in seeing if this," she raised their conjoined hands and waved them in the space between them "works… "
"I am," Andy answered keenly and edged forward on the couch. "More than anything, Sharon."
"Okay," she chuckled nervously at his eagerness. "…I…I'm just…"
"Scared?" Andy offered, knowingly.
"Terrified," Sharon agreed breathily and seemed to relax slightly. "Andy, I've been by myself for such a long time…" she shrugged. "I'm not even sure if know how to be a couple anymore..."
"Me too," Andy ran his thumb over her knuckles.
"But I almost died today," she said matter of fact. "The prospect of trying this and messing it up – it does scare me…but what happened today made me realise something."
"It did?"
"It made me realise that not ever knowing if this can work…" she paused to nervously lick her lips and Andy found himself leaning in towards her – unconsciously closing the space between them - until her mouth hovered sheer millimetres from his.
"Andy, that scares me more." With her statement hanging in the air between them - it was finally Sharon that made the first move; gently, she took his face in her hands and pressed her lips to his.
She felt Andy smiling against her kiss, before his hand rose to the back of her neck and his lips parted. His fingers twisted in her hair as he drew her in; she vacated her perch on the coffee table to join him on the couch – deepening their kiss – lopping her arms around his neck and pulling him towards her.
Andy leant into the kiss, and Sharon allowed his weight to push her back onto the couch – her body savouring the feeling of having another pressed against it – a heat settling in her lower abdomen as she rose her hips to meet his.
Her hands stroked his back through his t-shirt - her fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric as his lips left hers and began a journey along the column of her throat. She smoothed her heated palms up, along his back to grab his shoulders as he continued his assault on her neck.
Sharon had intended for them to take it slowly; it had been such a long time…she had worried about how her body would react – but she needn't have. As Andy's lips moved to graze her collarbone and his strong hands gripped at her hips – she had no intention of slowing things down.
She pushed Andy to a seated position and grabbing fistfuls of his t shirt, she pulled it upwards and over his head; surprising even herself at her assertiveness - Sharon straddled his hips and kissed him again.
"Sharon," Andy uttered between kisses as she raked her fingers through the wiry hair on his chest, dropping her mouth to graze the side of his neck with her teeth. Andy hissed in response and grabbed at her behind – pulling her centre against his straining erection – causing her to moan against his mouth.
Andy's mind was still playing catch-up with his body; he had not been expected this. He had prepared himself for a more tentative approach, had assumed that things would move slowly...
"Sharon?"
Sharon heard Andy say her name again and she rocked her hips against his, quickly finding his lips with hers to silence the question she knew was about to be voiced.
'He wants to know if I'm okay. He wants to know if I'm sure…'
Sharon knew what she wanted - what she needed - but if they stopped to question their actions…if they let doubt seep in…she was afraid to take that pause.
"Sharon," Andy spoke more firmly this time and took her face in his hands – forcing her to look at him – but to Sharon's surprise, his brown eyes, darkened with desire, only made her want him more.
"Andy, I want this," she reassured him, turning her head to place a kiss to his palm. "But not on your couch." She said with a smile, raising to stand before him, her hair mussed, her lips swollen and skin flushed. "Take me to bed?"
Andy got to his feet in one swift motion and caught her lips with his. He pulled her to him – running his hands down her sides and back up again – bringing with them the hem of her black tank top – the fabric bunching at her breasts.
Sharon removed her glasses, placing them on the coffee table, before raising her arms to allow him to pull the garment up and over her head.
Having discarded of the item of clothing behind them, Andy's hands wandered into the back pockets of Sharon's jeans. He pulled her flush against him for a bruising kiss, relishing in the feeling of her bra encased breasts pressing against his bare chest.
Without releasing her from is clutches, Andy started to manoeuvre them towards his bedroom and Sharon allowed him to take the lead; moaning when her back found a wall and his eager hands found her lace covered breasts.
He cupped their weight in his hands whilst the tip of his tongue made the journey along her neck and down to the curve of one breast. Sharon treaded her hands through his hair as he drew the purple straps down her arms and tugged the cups of lace from her skin – exposing her nipples to the cool air and to Andy's warm breath.
"You're beautiful," he muttered as he stooped to take one pink nipple into his mouth – his teeth grazing the sensitive tip – before switching to continue his assault on the other breast.
"Andy," Sharon spoke his name breathlessly, grabbing at his shoulders "bed…"
Andy raised his head and placed his lips next to her near ear, his warm breath on her neck causing her to shiver.
"Bed?" He rumbled and she could feel his smug grin against her flesh as he moved his leg between her thighs and she whimpered at the delicious friction the movement created – but it still wasn't enough.
"Bed," she affirmed breathily "now."
"Yes ma'am," Andy drawled – all too happy to comply. In one, perfectly executed manoeuvre – the Lieutenant hoisted his Captain off the floor – and carried her over the threshold to his bedroom.
xXx
The sun was coming up when Andy stirred; the unfamiliar feeling of movement on the mattress disturbed his post-coital slumber. Laying on his front, he blindly stretched an arm out – expecting to find Sharon's warm body next to him; yet instead he found nothing.
Confused, he twisted onto his back, to find Sharon dressing by his window; the dim light filtering through the blinds forming a pattern across her pale skin.
"Sharon?"
"Sorry," She turned to look at him, smiling apologetically as she pulled the zipper up on her jeans and secured the button. "I didn't mean to wake you."
"That's okay," he dragged himself up to rest against the pillows, the white bed sheets tangled around his legs. "You're leaving?"
"I have to get home," she moved around to his side of the bed. "Work starts in a few hours and I need to get a change of clothes."
"Why?" Andy smirked, running his eyes over her body, clad only in a pair of jeans and a purple bra. "I like this look."
"Hmmm," Sharon bent one knee and knelt on the mattress. "I bet you do," she leant down towards him. "Speaking of which," she muttered against his lips. "Where are the rest of my clothes?"
"I'll never tell." He joked as he cupped her cheek and pulled her down for a kiss.
Sharon placed her hands on his shoulders and pulled away – looking down at him with her eyebrow arched in disapproval.
"Your jacket and boots are by the couch," he finally submitted with an eye roll. "And I think I saw your black top on the coffee table…"
"Thank you," she smiled sweetly at him and placed a solitary kiss to his lips, before getting back to her feet and heading in to the living room to retrieve her things.
"So…" Andy climbed out of bed and hunted around for some pants – instead settling on his dark-grey towelling robe that hung on the back of the bedroom door. "Do you think we need to speak to Taylor right away? Tell him about this or…?"
"Or what?" Sharon reappeared in the doorway, tugging the fabric of her top down over her torso. "I was thinking about telling him today," she said simply. "Why?" Her eyes clouded over with concern and her hands retreated to her jean pockets. "Do you think we should wait?"
"What?" Andy frowned. "No, Sharon," he reached out and pulled her to him. "That's not why I asked - look," he lifted her chin to look into her eyes. "I just wondered…I am completely on board with telling Taylor."
"You're sure?" She placed her hands on his hips. "Because I just think that we stand a much better chance of getting a positive response from Taylor if we…"
"Follow the rules?"
Sharon paused and looked up at Andy, her mouth slightly agape.
"Now, how did I know you were going to say that?" Andy said with a smirk and pulled her closer to him - leaning in to steal another kiss.
"Hmmm," Sharon narrowed her eyes. "Oh, I wonder…" she chuckled as she tilted her face up towards Andy's and allowed him to capture her lips with his own…
'You'll Get Yours, Bitch.'
Receiving that simple, yet harrowing message had started Sharon on a journey. It had been a twisted and painful passage but it ultimately and unexpectedly had delivered her to that very moment. And as she stood, safe in the arms of the man she could truly envisage spending the rest of her life with, Sharon realised that maybe the message was right.
Maybe she did in fact 'get hers' after all.
The End.
Thank you for reading . Hope you enjoyed the story!