27thMarts 2015

Friday

Los Angeles

What keeps you up at night? Part 1

…

Sharon Raydor stood in the empty break room and absent-mindedly watched the dance of a single dust mote in the air, afternoon sunlight reflected on the small speck. She pressed her lips together to suppress a yawn.

The only noise was the coffee machine howling; it was in a dire need of descaling. Otherwise, it was quiet; her team was working on the case like quiet little busy bees. The scent of coffee snuck its way across the room and Sharon was already looking forward to the first sip of the fresh caffeinated liquid. Surely, it would bring her out from her stupor?

So far, the week had been long and tiresome. Even if it was approaching the early afternoon hours, today had the feeling of being never-ending. Sharon recalled eating breakfast at the crack of dawn this morning and yet, it was an event that felt like it was yesterday. When they received a case in the weekend and spent a large proportion of that weekend, and the following days, trying to solve it, Sharon's sense of time always became warped. The days had felt crammed despite not working overtime since Sunday.

It was also the prospect of what lay ahead that had her feeling a little overwhelmed. She wanted to catch up on sleep, but there was the Art Exhibit with Gavin scheduled for later on in the evening, and, if her old friend was true to form, that event would see Sharon home in the middle of the night, semi tipsy.

Friday was a day for summarizing and gearing up for the following week. It was more administrative work than the other days, and during investigations, like now, Friday tended to drag on. The ongoing murder case was dragging its feet like dead weight. It was a stalemate. There was no new forthcoming information, and the little information they had discovered was not enough to arrest anyone. If Major Crimes got another rollout, that would take precedence without a doubt.

They were still waiting for the full autopsy report, and that could take weeks, if not months. The definitive cause of death, DNA samples and whatever else the report would reveal, could shed further light on the case. If Brooks and Lawrence were somehow drugged then that could be a clue to lead the investigation forward by searching the databases for recent suspicious purchases of specific pharmaceuticals. As it was, calling various hospitals for inventory and reported stolen items was meaningless without a definitive drug.

It was frustrating, but she had learned to live with it. Not every case that came across their murder board was going to be solved, and not every case was solved within a short time frame.

Sharon remembered a night, years prior, where she had vented her frustrations on this subject to Andy. He had then listed off, one by one, the various cases close to his heart that remained unresolved or had taken half of his life to solve. It had been a somber conversation, but in the end, she took from it what stood out; determination. Instead of falling to resignation, Andy was more determined than ever to do his work.

Still, it was frustrating to let a case go. To put it on the backburner until something new showed up; which usually tended to be more victims. Sharon knew that if they did not solve this case now, then sooner or later, they would be staring at more bodies with those distinct tattoos. Andy called it a gut feeling.

Then, to top her list of frustrating events, there was the matter of Philip Stroh. The escape of a serial killer was not a major crime; no. Stroh had been in the custody of the DA's office and, as such, it was their responsibility. Major Crimes was expressly ordered to stay away from Stroh. Chief Taylor had made it a point to tell Sharon once a week as if the man was afraid she would go on a vindictive rampage.

Sure, let the eggheads, who let the man escape in the first place, be in charge of finding him again. To Sharon it was illogical. Emma Rios was only the messenger, the top brass of the DA's office and Mayor the driving force behind it. If Sharon had been in Internal Affairs, she would have started an independent investigation on the whole matter. She was of a half mind to call in favors with the I.A department, but she knew it was not likely to happen. Incompetence was only audited if the general public demanded it, or a law suit was imminent.

Sharon pursed her lips in annoyance. Just the thought of Philip Stroh made a swift, burning anger sweep through her body. Fear had been prominent at first, but now it was a low simmer, easily extinguished and replaced by anger. For that she was glad, she hated being afraid.

The dust mote settled on the surface counter and after staring at it for a minute, Sharon blew air at it. She watched the mote swirl upwards in a wild cylindrical wave and then once again it swayed from side to side as it fell down.

"Is the indomitable Sharon Raydor blowing air at dust motes?" Andy Flynn commented from behind her and Sharon jumped, half-frightened from his sudden voice.

Sharon turned around with a guilty smile, her eyes taking in the figure of her lieutenant in the door opening. Andy leaned against the frame with a casual smirk, his arms loosely crossed and one eyebrow arching high at her.

Sharon wondered how long he had been standing in the doorway observing her. Today saw Andy in a light grey suit, pastel purple shirt and a geometric printed tie in silver tones. The man knew how to dress; a fact Sharon could appreciate.

"Are you sneaking up on me, Lieutenant Flynn?" Sharon tilted her head and pursed her lips to stop herself from smiling and giving away her amusement.

Andy took a step closer, the door closing behind him.

He spread out his arms and pretended surprise, "Never."

"Good," Sharon nodded with a smile.

"Provenza is complaining about the lack of coffee. He's wondering what is taking so long, now I know and I should tell him," Andy grinned, and continued with a nod behind him in the direction of the squad room, "The old fart thinks you've forgotten how to brew coffee. I told him the only one going senile was him."

"If Lieutenant Provenza made coffee for everyone instead then there would be no reason for him to complain," Sharon replied with a narrowed glare out to the squad room. She briefly entertained the thought of marching out there and telling the old lieutenant he could make his own damn coffee.

"You disappeared half an hour ago," Andy tilted his head, his eyes full of concern, "You alright?"

Sharon nodded with a little forced smile.

Andy didn't look convinced, but bless the man, he did not press her.

Sharon turned and gave the coffee machine a quick look. She held her breath and held back a raging monologue about Stroh's escape.

She let out a small sigh, mindful of Andy's presence.

Andy came up next to her, his hands on the counter as he gave her a sideways glance and a comforting smile that warmed Sharon to her core. His smile was unassuming and without intentions; it held her in an embrace. She took it for the rarity it presented and she smiled back.

Sharon watched his hands brace themselves on the counter, noting the familiar rings and wrist band that carried a lot of history, and the cuff links that matched his outfit. His hands had become something of a mesmerizing thing to watch. The knuckles that tensed and paled when he became incensed, fisted by his side when he was on the verge of losing control, white but firm around his Smith&Wesson when he took aim. Andy Flynn had big hands and long fingers, and the skin had been warm to touch the few times he had touched her cheek. It had been brief touches – and so far it had only happened twice.

When Sharon looked up, Andy's eyes were on her, wondering.

"It's been a long week," Sharon commented, her own smile imitating his, "I seem to find myself staring into space more often than not."

"You're not alone," Andy said. "Provenza quit the daily crossword puzzle because he couldn't think straight. Mike fell asleep for a short while and Julio is now functionally mute."

Sharon smiled.

After a brief pause, Andy continued in a low voice, "So, how about some luxury, hmm? I was thinking dinner. Maybe we can find a place with live jazz, if you're in the mood? Or I can make you dinner at my place? Or yours? Whatever you feel like."

Andy Flynn offering to cook her dinner was one of those little things that settled like molten fire, low in her stomach. When he also sported an expectant twinkle in his eyes and a contagious smile, it melted her. Not to mention the less than subtle way he closed more of the distance between them.

Someday, Sharon knew, she would have to reflect on the enigma of Andy Flynn and what he woke in her. Today was not that day. It required an amount of courage she had yet to gather.

"That sounds lovely Andy, but," Sharon watched his expression change. Excitement dissipated with a small twitch to his smile.

"But?" he interrupted and pushed his shoulder gently against hers, Cheshire smile back in full force.

"I already have plans for tonight, unfortunately. Gavin is taking me to an Art Exhibit," Sharon told him with an apologetic smile.

Andy nodded and then he gave her a knowing look, "But you would rather go home, soak in the tub and read a book before bedtime?"

Sharon smiled and then gave him a push back with her shoulder, "A little bit, I must admit."

Andy smiled – and he continued to look at her, something deeper beyond his gaze.

"Raincheck," Sharon told him, amused, "and I'll hold you to it."

Andy quirked an eyebrow, "You just want someone to make you dinner, hmm."

"True," she replied.

The coffee machine came to a stop with a sputter.

Andy pushed her reaching hand away and barred her access to the cabinet. Sharon rolled her eyes at his demeanor. The man made a show of opening the cabinet and finding a cup. Before Sharon could protest, Andy filled her favorite orange cup with coffee and offered her the cup with a smug look.

Sharon took a sip of the scalding hot coffee and sighed in pleasure. She sipped while she watched Andy fill his own cup with coffee.

"You know," Andy started as he looked at her over the rim of the cup, "you're throwing around a lot of 'rainchecks' these days." His voice was light and teasing.

"Hmm," Sharon hummed, "You are right. You already owe me home made gelato, and now live jazz and dinner as well."

Andy nodded.

Sharon smiled into her cup. Truth be told, she felt more drawn to a night out, or in, with Andy than gallivanting around a gallery with Gavin.

"How about brunch?" Sharon offered looking up, "And I can bring your leather jacket along. I still have it."

Andy smiled, "Oh, I had almost forgotten all about my jacket. You wanna do brunch tomorrow then?"

She nodded.

"That's a deal," Andy replied his tone happy and his eyes on her with an intense look.

Sharon nodded with a hum.

It was one of those moments where she felt overwhelmed by his expression and the meaning behind it. That these moments were escalating was another overwhelming aspect. Deflecting them was becoming difficult.

Sharon simply smiled back and quickly looked down at her coffee again.

…

A/N: Thank you for all the lovely feedback. =)