27th April 2015

Monday

Los Angeles

…

What makes courage wither? Part 1

It had been a restless night for Sharon, yet she felt wide-awake at the moment. She lay a while and listened, her apartment was quiet in the early hours of the morning. The sun was just rising over the horizon; the first rays coloring the clouds that were present in the sky. It would have been a beautiful sunrise to watch from her terrace and cozy with a cup of coffee in her hand, but considering the new threat that had arrived last night, she felt too agitated to sit down and enjoy anything. It was like a rush of adrenaline surging through her body and keeping her alert. She felt unable to stay still; her arms and legs buzzed with a need to do something, and her thoughts were in disarray; unable to stay locked onto a single thought for more than a moment or two. She needed a distraction and as such she decided working earlier than usual would suffice.

She rushed through her morning routine; a quick shower and a quick survey of her closet before she decided for a pinstriped black ensemble of a pantsuit with a white blouse underneath. She clipped on her gun and badge to her belt holster, the extra weight of her Glock felt reassuring. She chose a pair of black heels and took them with her to the kitchen. Mixing milk with frozen banana and mango in her blender, she quickly had a smoothie. While she gulped down the cold beverage, her eyes noticed a spot on the kitchen counter; she wiped it off with a finger.

Before leaving, she knocked gently on Rusty's door and then snuck in to look at him. He was sleeping on his stomach and had the sheet tangled in his legs, his head was buried deep in a pillow. Sharon sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping at her weight. He looked so young and carefree when he was sleeping; hair tussled and no worry lines in his expression. She smiled and felt some of her restlessness ease off.

Sharon brushed some of his hair away and gave him a chaste kiss on his temple. Rusty stirred awake long enough for her to make sure he knew she was going into work and that she was going to up the security protocol on him, and a motherly reminder that he needed to be extra careful. As much as she wanted to take him with her and make sure he was safe, he was right when he said that he needed to go about his day as normally as he could, which meant going to his college classes. He would be safe enough in the masses, and with the added security in the background keeping an eye on him.

"Be safe," Sharon whispered to him with a small smile, watching as he sleepily crawled further inside his blanket.

Rusty mumbled what sounded like 'you too,' back at her before he fell into a slumber again.

She checked in with the security detail on her way out of her apartment and reminded them to be extra alert. She took the offending bouquet of roses with her, though she had half of a mind to simply throw them out in the trash and never think about them again, but she needed to have the bouquet analyzed. As much as it annoyed her, it was yet another clue as to the whereabouts of Philip Stroh.

Sharon had counted on the squad room being vacant this early in the morning, considering it was barely a quarter past six, and most of them had worked late last night. She was, however, mistaken. She let out a little sigh; she should have known he would be here.

Andy sat hunched over a pile of reports by his desk, a cup of coffee in one hand and a pencil in the other. She was determined to get sequestered away in her office with the bouquet in one hand and the coffee in the other, before her lieutenant noticed. She did not feel like talking about the roses or Stroh at all and she knew he would want to talk about it. She walked a little faster.

It was folly.

Andy turned his head the moment she made it across the threshold to the squad room, a broad smile on his face that disappeared instantly when his eyes landed on the evidence bag Sharon had put the roses in.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" he said by way of greeting, his voice like gravel. He stood up fast, forgetting the cup in his hand. The rapid movement made coffee spill over his hand and she watched as he hurriedly put the cup down, shaking coffee off his hand and cursing, drops of coffee falling on the floor.
He then made his way to her, preventing her from going into her office first, "please tell me that's not what I think it is?" There was a note in his voice that felt new to her, a note of pique that was hard to place.

Sharon gave a weak smile, "Morning, Andy."

Andy's scent enveloped her as he stood close to her, eyeing the bouquet with an offended frown. It lessened somewhat when he looked up and caught her eyes.

She sighed and then answered him, "I'm afraid Stroh left another gift for me. Rusty found it in front of my door last night."

Andy leaned closer, his eyes scanning the bouquet as if trying to spot a fingerprint. He looked up briefly, "You got a note too?"

She nodded and that nagging feeling of fear reared its head once again. It was no wonder she had barely slept. Andy expelled an audible sigh and his expression turned soft, "What did it say?"

Sharon nodded in the direction of his desk, "Grab some gloves."

While Andy put on gloves, Sharon placed the bouquet on his desk and took it out of the plastic. She pointed at the white folded paper attached to one of the roses. Andy took the note and read it silently; the only indication that he was upset was the line around his mouth tightening.

When he looked up again, she was stumped by the angry expression.

"Christ, Sharon," he blew out, the tone disparaged, "You should have called me!" he lifted the note in his gloved hand, "this is disgusting."

She had very briefly thought of calling him last night but in the end, she had stalled thinking she could handle it just fine on her own. And she didn't want to make him distraught.

His brow furrowed, "Have you reported it yet?"

"I called Taylor about it."

That answer only made him grimace more, "Yeah but did he do anything about it, huh? This demands action!"

"The security surrounding Rusty will be heightened in the next couple of days," Sharon answered as she crossed her arms, mindful of the coffee cup in her hand.

"That's not what I meant," he said in an exasperated tone, "what about you? The creep is not sending roses to Rusty; he is deliberately sending them to you."

Sharon shook her head, "I'm a little too old for the likes of Philip Stroh, Andy." She pursed her mouth, her own voice now sounding annoyed too, "I don't fit his profile. He's taunting us, that is all."

Andy crossed his arms as well, his eyes on her with a narrowed glare. If Sharon had to guess, he looked angry, or maybe pissed off. Which was new, or rather it was quite a while since he had last directed even an ounce of anger her way.

"So, you are going to be all offhand about this? About your own safety?" He pointed accusingly at her, "If Stroh was sending these threats to someone else, you'd be the first to make sure they were safe; heck you made sure DDA Rios was well protected."

Sharon tried to deflect his anger, "I am capable of defending myself, you know." She gave a brief smile and then continued, "I'm more concerned with Rusty's safety. It is far more likely that Stroh wants Rusty gone than me. He's the witness after all. I had nothing to do with Stroh's incarceration, and killing me only opens the spot up for someone unknown to him to step in."

"Bullshit and you know it," Andy countered, the volume of his voice going up. In any other circumstance, she would have told him to keep his temper in check but something held her back. He had the right of it, she knew.

Andy continued, his voice hardening, "Knowing exactly what Stroh wants is tricky, and guessing is hazardous. He's a serial killer, Sharon. He hates women, so it's not that far off that he has his eye on you, okay? You are the reason Rusty's here at all to testify, so logically, you are standing in his way. And to get to Rusty, he has to go through you, right? So, all things considered, you need protection, just like Rusty, just like Amy and just like Rios."

Sharon arched an eyebrow. She felt on the defensive. "I am not a civilian, Andy. Which is why I carry a sidearm and am fully capable of defending myself should it to come to that."

Andy briefly looked at her hips and the Glock.

"It doesn't hurt to have someone look after you, you can't always be watching everyone," he sighed again, "and I meant no disrespect, Sharon."

She countered, "Then keep your voice down, Lieutenant Flynn."

That remark deepened his grimace. But before he could retort back, Sharon's phone rang. She fished it out of her pocket, happy for the interruption. Doctor Morales was on the line. He was ready to present his findings. Andy gave her a probing look while she talked and when she hung up his mouth was pursed in indignation.

"Are you accompanying me to the morgue?" Sharon asked him, turning on her heel before he could answer.

"Yeah," she heard him grumble behind her back.

Sharon deposited her bag and laptop in her office, Andy leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed, glaring at her. She paid him no attention, picked up her tablet and decided to bring her coffee cup with her. Maybe the doctor wanted the coffee; she had lost the thirst for it.

She made her way to the elevators, her lieutenant on her heel. She knew he had the best intentions, and she knew why the situation felt raw for them both, but still. The roses had affected her more than she had first thought; she felt vulnerable, and hated it.

As they waited for the elevator, Sharon could see the muscles in his jaw work and then clench; he was staring at her. She pursed her lips, dissuading him from speaking his mind.

She had forgotten how infuriating Andy Flynn could be when he put his mind to it.

…