What transforms in the dark? Part 5

By late evening the following day, the case was ending; confession taped, the autopsy under way and evidence gathered and ready to be processed.

Sharon met Andy when he came up from having delivered Denise Shaw into custody. For a long moment they shared a sad, heavy look in the hallway, neither of them speaking. Andy approached her and Sharon had to briefly look away from his searching gaze. She had a bad aftertaste and a more heavy feeling that had settled in her heart since the discovery of the two graves.

There was something world-weary about discovering a dead child, and something even more atrocious knowing the reason the boy and his father lay dead in the backyard. Child custody. It was as simple as Denise Shaw not wanting to share her child. She had been preparing to move across the country, and Nigel Debor had come to talk to her and there had been a dispute of some sort. Denise had been short on the specifics of the dispute and what had precipitated it, but it had ended with Jimmy Shaw accidentally watching his mother swing a baseball bat at his father's head, repeatedly. Forensic evidence showed traces of blood in the entrance hallway and blood trails that led down the hallway and out to the back door and the garden. Denise Shaw had, before moving the body, given her son sleeping pills - too many - and the boy's respiration had stopped while Denise had been cleaning the house and burying Debor in the flower bed.

She had only meant to put the boy to sleep, she said. As far as Sharon knew, that might be the truth. Denise Shaw did not seem to understand dosages when it came to sleeping pills and how it might affect children different than adults. Or maybe it was deliberate. It was impossible to know. The whole ordeal, from the graves, to the autopsy, to the confession, was something that crawled into Sharon's soul and weighed her down.

And so, in the aftermath of cases like this one, she always felt out of sorts. As such, standing in the hallway with Andy, the comfort of him being close, she decided to invite him home for dinner. She felt in the mood for company, and not anyone's company, but explicitly Andy's company. The man had a calming effect on her after cases that wreaked havoc on her emotions. It was either drinking a half bottle of red wine and soaking in the tub, alone with her thoughts or sharing dinner with Andy. Lately, she felt more drawn to the latter. Luckily, Andy accepted the dinner invitation right away.

Once home they called in Vietnamese take-away from the couch, Sharon sat well rested against some pillows, her legs drawn up underneath her, and Andy sat sprawled on the other end of the couch, facing her. Rusty had texted earlier that he was at the library and that he would eat with some friends. He had another test coming up next week and Sharon figured that submerging himself in his studies, took his mind of the fact that Stroh was out in the free. While they waited for their food, Sharon drank cold water and stared out of the window to her terrace, lost in contemplation.

She could feel Andy staring at her. She did not mind.

After a while she looked back and she was surprised to find Andy leaned back against the couch, his eyes closed fast asleep.

Sharon smiled to herself.

She leaned back as well, careful not to wake him and looked out the window again, her eyes on the drizzling rain and her mind thankfully empty. That was the good thing about working through the night; she was so tired she did not have the energy to think.

Andy slept through the doorbell ringing as well, so she needn't have worried about waking him. Sharon opened the door and took the bags with Vietnamese rice rolls. She then made some lemonade for the both of them, arranged the rolls on plates, and found a small bowl for the soya and hoisin sauce. She carried it all in on a tray.

Andy woke up as she was setting the plates on the sofa table. She watched him yawn and blink.

"Fuck," he cursed and then his eyes opened up wide and he stared at her horrified; not that Sharon understood why he would be horrified with cursing in front of her.

She smiled, "Good sleep?"

Andy chuckled, "Yeah - only," he tilted his head from side to side, then back and forth, grimacing; "Now my neck's killing me."

Sharon smiled wider. This was why she liked spending time with him; he had the ability to disarm any situation and make her feel better, even when the day had been beyond horrible.

"So," Andy sat up straight, arms resting on his knees and eyes on the food, "This looks delicious."

Sharon hummed in agreement.

The food chased away some of the tiredness, the cold fresh lemonade perfect for her heavy head.

Halfway through the meal, she looked sideways and found Andy once again staring at her, this time with a silly grin on his face.

"What?" she smiled, "do I have something stuck on my face?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "a little sauce."

Sharon quickly wiped her mouth with a napkin and then pursed her lips.

"You've still got something on your chin," Andy grinned and imitated rubbing it away with a bent finger on his own chin.

"Well, you've got hoisin sauce on your upper lip," Sharon retaliated.

Andy rolled his eyes, "What, so it's like that, is it?"

She nodded with a badly concealed smile, "Yes."

Andy huffed, "I won't tell you that you have something green stuck in your teeth then."

Sharon promptly closed and covered her mouth with a hand, her cheeks warming up.

Andy grinned at her reaction, "I'm kidding, Sharon."

With a close-lipped smile, Sharon reached out and took her glass. She sipped the rest of her lemonade, her eyes on Andy as she observed him.

He was playing around with the last rice roll on his plate, the chopstick in his hands going back and forth.

He gave her a wry sideways look, "You want the rest of mine? I can't eat anymore."

Sharon shook her head, "No thanks. I'm all full."

"It seems a shame to throw it out," Andy sighed and then gave her a look best described as pleading eyes.

Sharon relented, "I suppose I have room for one more."

Andy grinned knowingly and nimbly placed the roll onto her plate.

Sharon took the roll up with her fingers, ignoring Andy's smug look. She dipped the roll in soya sauce and took a bite. The mint in the roll was fresh and the first thing she savored.

Andy meanwhile, decided to talk, "I love decompressing with you."

Sharon nearly choked on a shrimp.

She cleared her throat and then gave him a nervous smile, "Hmm?"

Andy rolled his eyes, "I said, I enjoy spending time with you and decompressing after the rough cases."

Sharon nodded and agreed with a hum.

"It's a thing I never got the hang of early on in my career, unfortunately," Andy commented, putting his chopsticks back on his plate.

Sharon furrowed her brow, "No?"

Andy shrugged, "You remember the old boys club; we never talked about our feelings or what the cases did to us."

Sharon felt a small smile tug at her lips, "Do I remember the old boys club?" she raised an eyebrow and then teased, "Of course I do – You made a point of never inviting me along."

It made him smile, "You didn't miss out on anything. We drank, smoked and got into fist fights with other divisions."

Sharon pursed her mouth, "I know, Andy, I was there to clean up after your fistfights."

Andy chuckled, "Yeah. Good times."

She smiled, "You know, I smoked. Once."

This took Andy by surprise and he grinned, "What? When?"

Sharon shook her head, grinning too, loving this sharing of stories, "After I graduated the academy. It gave me the worst hangover and I never touched a cigarette ever again."

Andy chuckled, "I can't imagine you drunk off your ass let alone smoking," he laughed a bit more, "I'd give anything to have seen that!"

Sharon smiled and then dipped the last of the rice roll in soya and ate it, the bite almost too big for her mouth; she looked away, trying not to break into a giggling frenzy and spraying food over the table.

"You know, I am very grateful for you, and for our friendship," Andy told her just as she was finishing chewing, "and the time we spend together out of the office."

"Oh," she breathed, feeling a bit winded by the suddenly raw look he directed at her; the tone was genuine and she knew he meant it.

Andy chuckled and some of the tension she felt, evaporated, "Yeah, who would have imagined I'd be saying that years ago, huh? You do a great job, you really do."

Sharon smiled, feeling at a loss for what to reply. She watched as Andy leaned toward her, the small distance between them on the couch becoming less. His eyes centered on her and his hand reached out to her cheek.

His thumb drew a short, chaste touch on her cheek meant to be reverent and soothing, instead it tingled on her skin and blazed when she looked up and caught his gaze.

Sharon held her breath.

She counted the heartbeats it took as Andy neared her, his knee touching her thigh. His fingers lingered on her cheek. Her mouth fell slightly apart and blood rushed in her ears, roaring.

In the last second, she looked down and to the side.

His mouth landed softly on her cheek, his thumb once again on her skin, under her chin in a soft caress.

She wanted to kiss him; she wanted to be kissed.

Instead she caught his hand as he drew away and laced her fingers with his; he returned the smile.

"You want tea?" She asked, her voice coarse, and she cleared her throat.

He nodded, amusement playing at his lips.

Sharon quickly rose and went to the kitchen.

Her skin was heated and she felt winded.

This happened every time they took a closer step towards something more, something more intimate, something that surely lay beyond friendship. She knew, that if she gave in just once, she would be lost in him, in them. And was that truly what they both wanted? Did she have room in her life for that?

"Any preference, Andy? I'm having jasmine myself," she called over her shoulder, her voice quivering.

"Sure," he answered behind her, his voice close, "Jasmine sounds good."

Sharon turned around with a surprised smile. Andy stood at the entrance to the kitchen, his eyes smiling as he looked at her.

Three steps and she could stand up on her toes and press her mouth to his; three small steps… she was more than certain he would reciprocate.

Instead she smiled and put the kettle under the tap. Andy found the mugs from her cupboard.

There was something intoxicating about the likelihood of a kiss. It stayed with her the rest of the night; when he brushed by her, his shoulder against her; when he looked away from the television and there was a glint in the depths of his eyes; when he reached out for the mug with tea in it, hands around the ceramic cup and his thigh so very near her own. She knew it must be obvious even as she tried to hide her attention to those small details.

It was a curious thing, the progression of their relationship.

It had become second nature to sit close to him, here on her couch and share a moment. She did not second guess that tightening feeling in her chest and the tingle beneath her skin when they touched; she knew it for what it was. It was not the first time Sharon lingered on the possibility of a kiss, far from. It was also not the first time she fell back on friendship instead.

It was easier and less messy. It was comfortable.

Or it would have been.

Somehow or other, she changed her mind completely when they said their goodbyes by her front door. She ended up pressing a hand to his chest, looking up and feeling drawn in by the complete unassuming look in his eyes. She stood up and brought her mouth to his, the soft feel of his lips against her own was wondrous. His hand hovered by her face and then his forefinger faintly traced the outline down her neck.

It was short yet felt never-ending and took her breath away. It felt like leaping into the unknown and falling, a buzzing feeling in her stomach and lips and head.

"Night," he whispered, and then he placed his lips on hers again, a soft peck.

"Night," she whispered back, smiling when he leaned down and placed the third kiss on her mouth before he stepped back for good. His face was brightened by a broad smile.

She wanted to say more, but instead she savored the three kisses and took them with her to her bedroom, and with her under the sheets as she delved into dreams.

Sharon fell asleep with a flutter in her chest.

…