A/N:

to the guest reviewer who mentioned their relationship sounding like an asexual one: I wanted to reply to you because I found it funny that you said that. When I first started writing this, like when I wasn't really sure what I was going to be doing with the small idea that popped into my head, I was kind of going for something like that. But not exactly. There's this term I can't think of that actually explains the relationship they have in this fic a lot better than I probably did. And then, well, I find comfort in what I'm decent at, which will always be exploring sexual desires, so of course that was slipped in. But the idea was that they have a stronger bond than either of them would find with another, even though they are just friends at this point. (Which is why Andrea stopped dating. She knew that Sharon would always come first.) There's a definite sexual attraction, but it's such a small detail. They're aware of it, sort of give in to it a little at times, but mostly it's not something that matters to them that much. Their relationship is one that has always been about support and love and connection... Anyway, I just thought that was interesting that you said that.

Now on to the fic...

3.

Andrea scratched her fingers over Sharon's scalp and then let the silky strands of hair slip between her fingers as she combed through the thick waves. Sharon's breaths came out in quiet puffs against Andrea's chest, the weight of her head on the woman's breast, above her steadily beating heart. Little noises left Sharon's throat occasionally, her lashes fluttering. Andrea smiled lightly down at Sharon, propped up by two pillows. Sharon's face was soft and calm in the shadows created by the lamp which had been put on its lowest setting, jaw relaxed and lips slightly parted, creases and laugh lines and marks of aging not covered by makeup.

Andrea let her fingertip trace the fine lines at the edge of Sharon's eye, then caressed smooth skin with a single finger as she went down to the ones around Sharon's mouth. She counted in her head as she followed the marks happiness had left on Sharon, remembered pictures of her with Emily and Ricky when they were young and imagined all the smiles they had seen blossom on their mother's face. Sharon lit up with brightness that could rival the sun's beams on the sunniest summer day when her children were around.

Andrea felt Sharon's lips turning upward, and one of the crevices close to her cheek deepened. Andrea traced it with her forefinger, a small, deep semi-circle.

"You're doing it again," Sharon drawled, her voice tired but wonderfully relaxed.

Andrea hummed and moved her fingers back to Sharon's hair. It was graying at the temples, had been for a long time now. Sharon never let it come in too much without taking a trip to the salon to cover it up, but Andrea loved the gray hairs and what they represented. As she scratched her fingers at Sharon's temple, Sharon made a noise caught between a laugh and a purr, a full smile stretching her pinkish lips.

"Andrea." It was little more than a breath, a light sound that tickled the blonde's skin as it floated in the air and then fell down over her.

"I love that I've been able to witness these changes," she told Sharon. She'd said it before; so often they found themselves like this, Sharon's head resting on Andrea while she took in the signs of Sharon's aging. "One day the skin here is smooth and just like everywhere else," she said while stroking Sharon's cheek with her thumb, "then I notice how much time has passed, and suddenly there's proof of the happiness in your life, the stress when you're worried, and just - - evidence of how much life there is in you." Andrea smiled. "I love that I'm able to witness that," she told her again.

Sharon, who was tucked into the left side of Andrea's body, opened her eyes and lifted her head so it was leveled with Andrea's. She studied Andrea's face, looked into her eyes, and was silent for long moments. In return, Andrea stayed perfectly still save for the hand that was languidly caressing Sharon's side through the warm fabric of the camisole she wore. She could smell the minty scent of Sharon's breath as the other woman's exhalations lightly brushed her lips, feel the even beats of her heart where their bodies touched. Andrea could lay quietly while being observed by Sharon for as long as Sharon liked, because it meant she could do the same, she could have silent, undisturbed moments of just looking at Sharon. Looking at Sharon and seeing her.

Sharon had yet to tell her what had been on her mind earlier, but from the softness of features now, Andrea could tell it was no longer bothering her. They had been in bed for quite some time, tonight one of their quieter nights, and Sharon had melted into her body almost instantly. Andrea brought a hand to Sharon's face and cupped her cheek, thumb carefully moving over her cheekbone, and watched as Sharon's entire face opened up for her, eyes transparent and letting Andrea in. Moments like this she was stuck between wanting to kiss her and whisper repeatedly how much she loved Sharon. Her heart felt heavy with emotion, emotions that were thick and syrupy and moved through her body so slowly that they coated everything they touched - it was love, the kind that consumed you and never really stopped, the kind that lasted lifetimes but never truly weakened.

Andrea said nothing, though. When she opened her mouth to speak, she remembered the way someone else would one day be saying those words to her and she didn't want to make it difficult for Sharon by reminding Sharon how strong her feelings were. She smiled, though, full and bright, and Sharon smiled with her, as if she understood exactly what Andrea wanted to say.

And she didn't kiss her.

But Sharon ducked her head and nuzzled Andrea's neck and breathed out softly before inhaling long and deep. It felt like a kiss, warm and gentle; her belly fluttered, as it always did when Sharon did that. The way Sharon buried herself into the crook of her neck was a sign of trust; she felt safe there, and Andrea wanted Sharon to always have that with her. She cupped the back of Sharon's head and let her fingers curl into her hair, and Sharon hummed against her.

. . .

It had taken Andrea a while to fall asleep. It normally did. Once Sharon was sure that moving would not wake Andrea from her slumber, she reached over and turned off the lamp that Andrea had insisted keeping on because she wanted to see Sharon. She settled back against Andrea's body, her back cushioned by Andrea's front like they had somehow ended up while moving around the bed, both restless and refusing to give up the comfort that came with having the other close – even if it meant needing to reposition themselves a dozen times so they were both satisfied.

She pulled the warm cotton sheets tighter around them, up close to her nose, and then closed her eyes. They smelled familiar, like detergent and Andrea – fresh, crisp, and a little sweet – and that smell was the scent of home. She felt a pang in her chest and a stinging in her eyes; she breathed in slowly, her hand searching for Andrea's behind her, and exhaled as she pulled her friend's arm around her. She clasped Andrea's hand tightly and held it against her chest, over her heavily thumping heart, reminding herself that Andrea was right there - reminding herself that she still had her home.

She'd been sleeping terribly the last few months, for a lot longer than that. For a while it had been because of Phillip Stroh, her concern for her son's life keeping her on high-alert. But she could no longer blame her lack of proper sleep on the fear she had felt. While she wouldn't stop worrying about Rusty's safety, she had been working on keeping it at a manageable level; they weren't going to let Stroh ruin their lives.

At night she felt cold, like she was being submerged in tubs of ice; and after a while that chill turned into a numb feeling. Through summer nights she had occasional bouts of uncontrollable shivering and had wrapped herself up in blankets that did nothing to rid her of the icy feeling. Her body had always been horrible at holding on to its heat, but it was only at night that it felt that extreme.

Sharon squeezed Andrea's hand in her own and scooted back a little. She felt warm in Andrea's embrace, safe in her arms, protected – she couldn't remember ever feeling that with anyone else, had never felt it was something she needed, knew she could take care of herself. But, it felt good to know that if she did need someone else's protection, Andrea was beside her.

Sharon knew that what had been keeping her awake lately was not merely a drop in her body's temperature, knew enough about herself to figure out what had truly been bothering her. She had not needed thicker blankets nor warmer clothes. She did not simply feel cold. The last few months she had felt lonely. Her body had been desperate for a heat that she no longer felt she had the right to ask for, the very heat that was now warming her. She'd missed Andrea, and she'd missed having Andrea's arms wrapped around her, strong and safe and loving.

Rusty had noticed Andrea's absence around the condo and had, blunt in a way that reminded Sharon of Andrea – a lot of the things Andrea and Rusty did reminded her of the other –, told her she would sleep better if she just invited Andrea over because pretending like she was okay wasn't doing her any good. He was right. Of course he was right. Rusty's ability to read people was a bit uncanny, especially when she thought she was pretty good at concealing her stress; it was one of the traits Sharon appreciated most about her son, though.

Rusty was one of few people who knew the extent of her relationship with Andrea. She had never hidden how close they were from him, but they'd also never spoken about it until around the time he had come out to her. She wanted to be as honest with him as he had been with her, wanted Rusty to know that he could be open and talk to her about anything and she would in return be truthful with him. Of all the times she had tried to explain what Andrea was to her, it had never been as simple as it was with Rusty. She suspected that it was because he'd seen first-hand the kind of support they gave each other, had spent time getting to know Andrea outside of her role as a DDA, and he'd gotten to know Sharon well enough to be able to tell that she was a lot closer to Andrea than she was most people.

Andrea didn't sleep over as much as she used to before Rusty started living with her. But once Sharon was sure Rusty was comfortable with having her there, Andrea had started spending the occasional night at the apartment. She and Rusty cooked together and had inside jokes that Sharon didn't understand, and Rusty sarcastically called her mom for a whole week when Andrea was helping him get ready for an exam and was frustrating him with all her flashcards and mandatory study sessions.

Sharon missed that, too. She missed the three of them having breakfast together, Andrea only mumbling responses into her coffee and Rusty rolling his eyes extra hard at her as he poured her a fresh cup when the first one was gone. She missed the way he would look at them like he understood something about them that even they didn't and then would say something that would make Andrea laugh. She missed Andrea's laugh filling her home.

Late at night when she couldn't sleep, Sharon thought about how things had been before they started changing. Andrea said nothing had to change, but she had felt her friend pulling away from her little by little. She knew Andrea was only giving her space to figure out what she felt for Andy, but Sharon didn't want the space. She understood why it was necessary for Andrea, though. She also understood why Andrea thought it was what she wanted.

But what Sharon wanted was to have Andrea, her warmth and love and friendship and support, and not have things be different than they were before.

This wasn't the first time there had been a romantic relationship with another person to consider – Andrea had dated in the past – but this was the first time it felt like the relationship was straining things in her friendship with Andrea. That was another thing Sharon thought she understood. Andrea had admitted that she couldn't imagine herself being in anything permanent, nothing too serious. In the end, Andrea felt too strongly about their friendship, and the women she had dated were never okay with how close Andrea and Sharon were. Sharon thought that perhaps Andrea didn't feel the need to put space between them because she had already decided that it wasn't something she was going to give up for another relationship. She had rather remain single, and had been for a long while. But Andrea didn't know how Sharon felt about Andy – lately, Sharon didn't know either – and didn't want to be the reason Sharon didn't follow her heart.

It had only been a few days ago that Sharon started questioning what that meant for them. In the back of her mind she had always known things would change eventually – once she and Andy were serious, which was why they weren't. It wasn't until she spent the night thinking about how much it felt like everything was already different between them that she actually questioned how much more would change. And what was she willing to give up?

Sharon huffed and brought Andrea's hand up to her mouth and touched her lips to hard knuckles, feeling herself slowly begin to drift off.

Not this, she thought, kissing Andrea's hand. She would not give up any of what she had with Andrea.

. . .

"Jesus," Andrea hissed when it felt like an icicle had been dragged across her bare calf. "Your feet are freezing."

Sharon's rumbling laughter vibrated against Andrea, her mouth near Andrea's breast when she spoke. "Warm me up, then. I woke up and found myself on the other side of the bed, alone, and you over here with all the covers."

Andrea peeked one eye open, surprised that it was still completely dark in the bedroom. She thought she had slept longer than she apparently had. She rubbed her eyes clean while simultaneously pulling the bedding higher on them so they were both properly covered. Andrea laughed when she looked down at Sharon, only the top of her head visible with her laying so far down.

"Can you breathe properly like that?" she murmured sleepily, lazily stroking her fingers through Sharon's hair underneath the cover, planning on going back to sleep.

"Mhmm," Sharon hummed, sliding her hand underneath Andrea's tank top. She shivered and hissed through her teeth. "Is that all right?"

Andrea licked her lips and took a careful breath before she nodded her head. "Yeah," she whispered. "Your fingers are cold, though."

Sharon skated her fingers up to Andrea's ribs. Goose bumps raised on sensitive skin; muscles rippled beneath. "Most of me is cold," Sharon replied a few seconds later, as if she hadn't processed what Andrea had said because she was too distracted.

"Only most?" she asked with a laugh that sounded too forced, like she was trying too hard to stay focused on their nonsensical conversation. They were just saying words to fill the silence, anyway. She knew that. She didn't know why she felt like she needed to pretend like her skin didn't feel like it was on fire from Sharon's fingers touching her, especially when Sharon could certainly hear how fast her heart was starting to beat.

"Most," Sharon repeated in a whisper, shifting just a few inches, their legs tangling together, Andrea's thigh between Sharon's. Sharon moved her hand away to safer territory, pulling back out of Andrea's shirt and resting on her arm instead.

Andrea dug her teeth into her lip to stifle a groan. Sharon rolled her hips and Andrea could feel exactly where she wasn't cold, could feel buckets-worth of heat spilling from between Sharon's legs. Damp heat, Andrea thought as she shamelessly rocked back into Sharon. She must have been so wet.

Sharon groaned in her throat and slowly lifted her head and straightened up so they were better aligned. Andrea's eyes were still closed, so she hadn't known what to expect. But she wasn't surprised when Sharon's lip brushed her ear, their heads sharing the same pillow. The touch was light and, maybe, accidental, the result of Sharon wanting to be close to Andrea.

"I haven't woken up this..."

"Turned on," Andrea supplied raspily, feeling the heat that seeped through layers of fabric and burned her thigh.

"Yes," Sharon breathed into Andrea's ear, squeezing around Andrea and then letting out a shaky breath. Andrea shuddered. "I haven't been turned on like this in a long time."

Andrea didn't ask what had caused it.

Andrea didn't breathe.

Andrea didn't move.

Andrea didn't think.

Didn't think about a thing –

except for how hot Sharon felt against her.

All of the oxygen was slipping out of the room, through the cracks in the windows and underneath the door. The room spun and tilted like some type of ride at an amusement park – Andrea had never liked amusement parks, had gotten sick one too many times to be a fan. Heat wrapped its slivering tentacles all around her, tight like springs wound up too much, and made her feel like she was going to be burnt alive.

"Andrea," Sharon said into her ear, legs squeezing around Andrea's thigh again. "I want you to touch me."

Andrea's breath got caught in her throat and she nearly choked on it. "You–"

Sharon took Andrea's hand and brought it to her stomach, Andrea's fingertips at the waistband of her silk shorts. "Please. I need you." Sharon rolled her hips and moved her head down to the crook of Andrea's neck, kissing her, mouth opened. "Please. Touch me, Andrea."

Then, suddenly, without a warning, Sharon's heat was gone, all of it, and Andrea felt herself shiver harshly as she sucked in a loud breath.

Three things happened at once: Andrea woke up from her dream; she realized that it was, in fact, a dream; and she discovered that while she had been dreaming about getting to touch Sharon, her hand was shoved between her own thighs.

"Fuck," she mumbled into her pillow, her arm under her body as she laid on her stomach.

"Go back to sleep," she heard in her right ear, raspy and familiar and too damn close when her body was so aware of everything.

And then Andrea's brain caught up with the rest of her and she remembered where her hand was and who was in bed with her and what she had presumably been doing in her sleep and what she was definitely doing in her dream, and oh my god, how long had Sharon been awake?

"Fuck," she mumbled again, discreetly slipping her hand away from where she was pulsing heavily and she could feel so much heat. Had she been touching herself when dream-Sharon had pressed against her? Was the heat she had felt really her own?

Sharon groaned and moved to lay her head on Andrea's shoulder blade. She slipped her hand underneath the back of Andrea's shirt and let her hand glide all the way up until her fingers were on the side of her breast, just resting there. "Go back to sleep," Sharon said again, whispering it this time.

Andrea tried – for maybe twenty seconds, at the most. But her heart was pounding and she wasn't sure if she was embarrassed or worried or just really, really turned on. Except she definitely knew she was the last one, even if it wasn't the reason her heart felt like it was hammering its way out of her body.

"Shhhh," Sharon soothed, and then her hand started to slowly stroke. "Relax. Your heart's beating at an unnatural rate."

"Well your hand's on my breast, Sharon. What do you expect?" she said before she could stop herself, and then, if possible, her heart beat picked up and a flood of heat violently swept through.

Sharon hummed, fingers no longer taking wide strokes from Andrea's rib cage to her armpit. No, Sharon was definitely moving more deliberately now, lightly stroking the side of Andrea's breast. It was such a gentle touch, feather-light, following the curve of the squashed flesh that Andrea laid on.

Andrea squirmed beneath Sharon and tried not to think about how wet she already was from her dream. She could handle a little light touching most days, even enjoyed it. But she was pulsing with want and aching and Sharon's fingers felt so, so, so good on her skin.

"Are you sleeping yet?" Sharon asked after a while, fingers slowly coming to a stop.

Andrea shook her head, grip tight on her pillow. Her chest burned from holding her breath, her thighs from squeezing them tight, and her hips from the effort it took to keep them still.

Sharon hummed again and slid her hand from underneath Andrea's tank top, letting her palm drag down her back, and then over the curve of her hip before she pulled away completely. Andrea whimpered into her pillow, unable to hold in the sound. Sharon's fingers brushed hair away from her face, but Andrea kept her eyes closed, not wanting to see whatever look Sharon was giving her. While they'd never had sex, they'd definitely taken pleasure in getting the other aroused occasionally, so this wasn't her first time being turned on around Sharon. This was, however, the worst it had ever been. They usually stopped before things got too heated.

"Is there anything you want me to do?" Sharon asked after a few quiet moments, her voice a little uncertain, her fingers stroking through Andrea's hair. "I mean..." She cleared her throat. "Do you, uh..."

Andrea smiled at her, hearing the nervousness in Sharon's voice and instantly feeling her heart beat slow down some. She slowly opened her eyes, bringing one of her hands to her face to wipe away anything that might be on it. With the sun still down, the room was filled with a gray lighting that spilled through the curtains. Sharon was right next to her, her eyes on Andrea's face, questioning, patient, curious.

Andrea licked her lips and brushed the backs of her fingers across Sharon's cheek, her neck, and then traced her jawbone with a slowly gliding thumb. When Sharon hummed, Andrea felt it low in her belly. She licked her lips again and dropped her eyes to Sharon's mouth. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to do a lot of things to her in that moment. Want burned in her body, twisted around inside of her like a dangerous tornado.

"Just lay with me," she whispered, despite the way her body heated at the thought of feeling Sharon's skin pressed to her naked flesh. "I want to hold you."

Sharon raised her brow and rubbed her face against Andrea's hand. "Is that all you want?" she whispered back, her breath heavier than normal, voice thick with something.

Andrea shook her head and pulled her hand away, rolling over on her side. "It's not," she said needlessly. Sharon wouldn't have asked if she couldn't already tell on her own. "If only my desires were that simple," she said with a small eye roll but also a tiny smile as she patted the space beside her.

Sharon let Andrea guide her so they were positioned how they were before Andrea had fallen asleep the first time.

"I want more than I can have," Andrea murmured into Sharon's hair, nose twitching as she moved close so she could kiss Sharon's shoulder.

Sharon sighed and reached around for Andrea's hand, and once she had it, she squeezed it tightly "So do I," Sharon admitted so quietly that Andrea almost didn't hear it. It sounded like both a confession and a realization.

Andrea kissed Sharon's shoulder again, their joint hands resting on Sharon's stomach. She wanted to ask when what they had had stopped being enough for Sharon – but she was worried about the answer she would get. She wanted to ask what else Sharon wanted – but she was sure she had a better idea of that than Sharon did herself lately. She wanted to ask if Sharon thought Andy could give her what she wanted – but then she remembered that they were moving at a snail's pace and Sharon no longer looked at him like she was certain about where they were heading.

Instead, Andrea waited until she thought Sharon was sleeping to brush her lips across Sharon's shoulder again. "You can have all of me," she whispered against her warming skin. "All of me."

to be continued...