A/N: It's hard seeing Morales as anything other than Morales, so I tend to switch between his last and first name because it still feels weird actually knowing his first name.

6.

"And I'm thinking about dropping out of school and joining the circus."

Sharon's eyebrows shot up quickly, the spoon in her hand slipping and clinking loudly against her bowl of oatmeal. Across the restaurant table from her, Rusty laughed as he brought his coffee to his mouth.

"You're thinking of doing what?"

"So you're still in there after all," he said with a little upturn to his lip, and then he drank from his coffee and studied her while doing so.

Sharon used her napkin to wipe up the small mess of oatmeal on the table and then pushed the white dishes away from her and brought her tea closer, her hand wrapping around the heated ceramic. "I'm sorry," she said with a heavy sigh. "I've been distracted, haven't I? Please, continue telling me about your discoveries."

Rusty smiled at her and shook his head. "That was basically everything. I mean," he said, shrugging his shoulders, "I'm still trying to figure out what the story I want to tell is at this point. I just thought– I thought you'd be interested in what research I'd already done."

"Oh, I am. Of course," she said with a quick nod and an easy smile. "Thank you for sharing with me. I see you're already making great progress. And I must say, how much you've learned these past few months is reflective in your work. You're making very professional choices, going about certain things in a different way than you would have a few months ago. That's very good, Rusty."

Rusty hid his mouth behind his mug, but Sharon could still see the way he smiled at the small praise. He wasn't the best at accepting compliments, so Sharon tried not to bury him in them like she knew she sometimes could with her children. She was just so proud of him. She loved seeing how much he could accomplish when he put his heart into what he was doing, loved his dedication and focus. Whether it was work for one of his journalism courses or for something that he worked on on his own, Sharon could always tell he was serious about his work and getting answers. She couldn't help letting him know every now and then how proud she was, nor could she stop herself from reminding him how talented he was.

Rusty cleared his throat and put his coffee down, and Sharon let her beaming smile relax into a smaller one. He leaned forward, arms on the table. "Well now that that's out of the way," he said with a dramatic breath, "we should talk about you."

Amusement twinkled in Sharon's eyes as she looked at her son. "We should?"

"Well, yeah." Rusty spoke slowly. "There's gotta be something new going on that you want to talk about. Like..." He shrugged his shoulders again, and if she couldn't tell he was holding back a familiar half-smile, she would think he had very little interest in what he was saying, in the conversation he was trying to initiate. But Sharon could see through his faked neutrality. "Maybe a movie night that went really well. Or I-I don't know. Maybe something else. You would know better than me."

Sharon shook her head as she laughed, leaning back in her chair with her arms loosely crossed. "Since when are you so interested in my personal life?"

Rusty seemed to actually think it over, his eyes moving around the restaurant and his brow furrowing before he looked back at her. "I don't know. I guess I've just noticed some things lately that make me wonder..."

"Wonder," Sharon repeated carefully, questioning with only a tilt to her head.

"Like, how you were lost in thought when I got here and looked like you were in a really good mood, even before you saw me. Which means it must have been about whatever you were thinking about, right?! And, and how you haven't said a thing about Flynn recently even though you're dating him now – which hasn't really been going anywhere from the looks of it. But the other night you brought up Andrea five times, five, when we were talking about Christmas plans for this year - and that conversation was less than ten minutes long.

"And she used to come over, like, all the time, but now she doesn't. And last night you got to spend time with her, and now you're looking happier than you have been lately. There's a connection there. So it's only natural that I wonder how things are going for you, don't you think? Isn't this what families do? Talk about their lives and stuff."

Sharon's stomach twisted into tight knots as she cleared her throat and smoothed her hands down her thighs. The uncertainty that filled Rusty's voice when he questioned about "normal behaviors" of families caused a pang of sadness deep in Sharon's chest. She could see that he had concerns about not acting the proper way in familial situations, was still unaccustomed to certain things, and she wanted to stop him from worrying. She wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that the only thing he needed to worry about was being himself.

She smiled at him, placing her hand on the arm that rested on the table. She gave it a long squeeze over the soft material of his navy cardigan and nodded her head. "If that's what you want, yes, of course."

"It is," Rusty said simply, and then lifted his brow as if to tell her that he was waiting for her to respond to what he had brought up.

There was just so much that had been said, though, that Sharon was not sure what she was meant to respond to. One thing did stick out to her, however, and she chose to comment on that particular topic.

"You know that you can spend time with Andrea on your own, right? I know she comes over less often than she used to, but that in no way has to impact the relationship between the two of you."

Rusty looked confused for a moment. "I know that. Andrea and I went to the movies together two weeks ago to see–"

"You did?" Sharon inquired in a surprised tone. Why hadn't they invited her, she wondered, feeling a little left out. She was just telling Rusty how he could spend time with Andrea by himself, but there she was feeling like she missed out on something when he did just that.

Rusty shrugged his shoulders a little while saying, "Yeah. You got called in for a case, and I knew she'd been wanting to see the movie. I did too, so we went together and had lunch. No big deal."

"Oh."

Rusty had a way of smiling that made it seem like he knew everyone's secrets, and whenever he smiled at Sharon like that, part of her thought that he just might. "That was why she came over for dinner the following night. She thought a 'family dinner' would make up for us not bringing you with us."

"Oh," Sharon repeated from earlier, this time the single syllable stretching out into a long breath.

"Mmhmm." Rusty watched her over the rim of his coffee and waited for Sharon to meet his eyes before putting his mug down. "But we're not talking about me. It's, like, all anyone ever wants to talk about."

"No, we're discussing..."

"Your good mood."

Sharon hummed, looking down into her tea. "Andrea and I did enjoy ourselves last night, yes. I left her house this morning in a much better mood than I had been in when I arrived there."

"Do I even want to know what that means?" he asked, sounding both grossed out and amused.

Sharon did her best not to pale at the insinuation he was making and chose to lift her eyes to glare at him instead, not too deathly, just enough to let him know she didn't want to hear any joking or teasing about her and Andrea's relationship at the moment. Thankfully, Rusty knew when to back off when warned and didn't say anything else on the matter.

"Everyone needs a little downtime, even you. Especially you."

It amazed her how sincere he could be, and surprised her sometimes how aware he was of some things. She hummed and smiled at him, nodding her head in agreement.

"So," he dragged out, "you spent the night with Andrea and now you're in a better mood than I've seen you in in months. Are you seeing the connection yet?" he asked in a way that only Rusty could make sound impatient, hopeful, and curious at the same time.

Sharon felt that same tingling down her spine that she felt whenever Rusty would give her and Andrea that look when they were doing something he considered "stupidly domestic", that look of smug superiority, the one that said he knew something they didn't.

The connection. Of course she saw it. There was no denying that she was generally in a better mood when around Andrea, just like coming home to her son put her in a good mood after a difficult case. Family was important to her, and spending time with those she considered family worked wonders for her state of mind. But Sharon had a feeling that wasn't exactly what Rusty was getting at.

So Sharon simply replied, "Perhaps," and considered what else he could have meant.

. . .

"I thought you and Sharon would be arriving together," Fernando said as he shut his front door after letting Andrea in, closing out the autumn night air.

"Don't sound so disappointed to see me."

He gave her an exaggerated eye roll while taking the pan that held the blueberry crumble she was handing over to him. He peeked under the cover, nodded his approval, and then let a brilliant grin take over his face. "I'm glad you could make it, Andrea. Better?" he asked with a wink, to which Andrea responded with a simple nod of her head. "I'm also glad at least one of you made it on time."

Andrea looked around the empty bungalow as she removed her lightweight jacket. "She had an emergency she needed to take care of. We spoke on the phone less than twenty minutes ago and she was stuck in traffic, but I'm sure she'll be here soon. Where's Anthony?"

"You should have passed him on your way in. He was moving things from his truck to my garage. Easels and paint, I don't know."

"Is he moving in already?" Andrea joked, only a little worried that that might actually be the reason why Fernando's boyfriend was storing things in his garage. She straightened out her sleeveless cranberry blouse with a smooth sweep of her hand.

They walked past the living room and into the large, open eat-in kitchen that smelled heavenly as Morales let out a floaty chuckle. "Heavens no. We're having a get together in a couple of weeks with a few friends, and we're just getting things in order." He picked up an apron that had been tossed over a chair and put it on, tying it behind him as he moved through the kitchen. "He's testing out a new model for a private class he teaches once a week, and he thought this would be a fun way to do it."

Andrea listened and added in small comments here and there as he went on, talking about Anthony and art and how fabulous he was. Andrea had very little interest in art history, which Anthony taught, but she had always loved visual arts. She found herself more intrigued when Fernando told her about the private classes he had in his studio across town – Anthony was also a painter, and that was the focus of his private classes – but her attention was really being given to the food Fernando was preparing.

"What are you cooking? And please tell me you're going to teach me how to make it," she had said, interrupting him as her stomach rumbled hungrily from the delicious aroma.

Fernando had moved past her and to the stove, laughing. "Paella de marisco," he said with flourish, grinning, "seafood paella."

"It smells great!" After sampling the rice and seafood dish, Andrea could only groan and give him a double thumbs up, her taste buds flooded with the mouthwatering flavors. "I'll give you any recipe you want from the box if you teach me how to make that."

"Hmm. Tempting. I'll think about it."

The box mentioned was her stash of recipes that she rarely ever shared with anyone, her specialties and dishes she had perfected from experimenting with recipes that were only mediocre when she discovered them. He'd been after a few of them for years now, but this was the first time he had something she wanted badly enough to offer a trade. She preferred to learn from other cooks if the dish was completely unfamiliar to her, and this was something she'd much rather he first teach her before she went at it on her own.

Andrea was getting wine glasses for Fernando when he started talking about Anthony staying over for the weekends, and the glass in her hand nearly fell down to the floor as she spun around to look at him with shocked eyes. "You are moving him in," she accused. "Slowly, yeah, but I know how you operate. I've seen this before. You're moving him in with you."

He shushed her, swatting her arm with the dish towel as he leaned against the counter. "Would you stop yelling?! And don't even give me that judging look," he said with a pointed finger and serious eyes that made her relax her face. "At least I'm dating the person who I invite to sleep in my bed. You've been having sleepovers with the woman you're in love with for years without making the relationship you're so obviously in official, but you don't see me judging you. In fact, I am one of your biggest supporters."

"Oh, no, no, no." Andrea rolled her eyes. "We are not going there. This is about you and the faster-than-light speed you move with men."

"Please, it's been four months and we've spent two weekends together. I remember a certain poet staying at your apartment for an entire week after you two had only known each other for half the amount of time Anthony and I have been in a relationship."

"First of all, I was in my twenties. Secondly, I don't have a terrible track record with the people I date turning out to be moochers." Andrea lowered her voice a bit at the end to soften the blow. "I don't want to see you hurt, that's all."

"You don't need to worry about that. Anthony is nothing like Chris," he said, dismissing the conversation with a wave of his hand. There would be no talk about exes.

"So when do I get to meet Mr. Fantastic, anyway?"

Then, as if he'd been waiting for the question to be asked, Anthony came walking into the open kitchen through the side door. "There you are," Fernando said as he crossed over to the door and kissed the cheek of the tall man who was entering the room.

Andrea looked at the couple, leaning against the corner of the L-shaped counter with her hands wrapped around the edge. Anthony waved his hand in greeting and gave Andrea a winning smile that went all the way up to his warm brown eyes and crinkled his otherwise smooth-looking tan skin.

"You must be Andrea," he said with a familiar accent that sounded as though it had weakened from years of living in California.

"And you must be Anthony," she said with a smile, reaching out a hand to shake his when he came over to her. Instead, she was pulled into a friendly hug that surprised her. Her surprise did not stop her from easily reciprocating the embrace. She had her large family to thank for how quickly she moved to return the hug, having grown up with huggers who had often pulled her into sudden hugs. He smelt how she imagined an art supply closet smelt, like paint and minerals and something sharp, but there was a woodsy scent beneath that she enjoyed. "From Boston, if I'm picking up the very faint accent correctly."

He chuckled deeply as they separated, nodding his head. "Woburn, actually. But very good."

"I lived there for five or six years back in the nineties before I came out here – in Boston, I mean." There was a commotion coming from over Anthony's shoulder, and Andrea looked past him to see Sharon had come in through the side door, carrying two cloth totes holding bottles of wine. She felt herself smiling as she watched, head tilting to the side.

"Here, let me help you with that," Anthony said as he left Andrea and went to give Sharon a hand.

"Oh," Sharon said with a small jump as he hefted the bags from her hands and guided her fully into the kitchen at the same time. "Oh, wow. Thank you."

"Sharon," Fernando said as he, just as Anthony had done, albeit less careful with his hand placement than Anthony was as he blindly pushed, guided Sharon all the way in from the small entryway off to the side of the kitchen, "this is Anthony. Anthony, Sharon."

"We met outside," Sharon said, giving Anthony a thankful smile as he put the wine in the fridge.

"I would have waited if I'd known you were bringing things in."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I had to take a quick phone call, anyway. I do appreciate the help, though," she said meaningfully, giving both Fernando and Andrea pointed looks.

"I'm handling food," he responded as an excuse, making Sharon turn to look at her with a challenging brow lift.

Andrea pushed herself away from the counter and smiled. "Anthony beat me to it."

Sharon rolled her eyes and started unbuttoning her jacket. "Of course he did. He didn't have to move very fast to beat you somewhere you had no intention of ever reaching." She nodded her head as she walked out to the living room, and Andrea followed one step behind her. "How long have you been here?"

"Not long," Andrea answered, pulling Sharon's jacket from her hand to hang it on the coat rack for her. "A little over ten minutes. I hit a little traffic on my way as well." Sharon hummed. "So is everything all right? Rusty okay?"

"Oh," Sharon said, running her fingers through her hair as she checked it in the mirror, "yes. The car needed to stay at the shop overnight, though, so I had to drive him home and his plans for the night are most likely going to fall through now. I had considered letting him borrow my car, but..."

"I would have still picked you up if you wanted to leave your car with him."

Sharon smiled at Andrea in the mirror and then opened her purse and pulled out her lipstick, holding Andrea's eyes as she spoke. "I know you would have, which is exactly why I told you I would drive. I didn't know when we would be finished, and I didn't want to make you wait for me indefinitely. Then we would have both shown up late."

Andrea decided to just let the topic drop as she reached forward and fixed a few strands of Sharon's hair in the back that she had missed, combing through her thick hair and righting the loose curls. "And everything's okay with…everything else?" When Sharon raised her brow, applying a fresh coat of lipstick to her lips, Andrea tilted her head towards the kitchen. "Phone call. You looked a little frazzled when you came in. Just making sure everything's all right."

"Oh, that was just Andy."

"Oh, o-kay." Andrea backed away from Sharon and waited for her to finish up.

Sharon capped her lipstick and then spun around, putting the items she had removed from her purse up as she eyed Andrea. "He wanted to see when I would be available to talk." Sharon volunteered the information as though Andrea needed to know it – or perhaps like Sharon needed her to be aware of the reason for the call, as if the person Sharon was dating needed a reason to be calling her. "I told him now wasn't a good time. I suggested we speak in person, anyway, as I would like to discuss a few things with him as well."

"The look in your eyes suggests it's not going to be a pleasant conversation..."

Sharon scrunched up her face a little as she looked off into the distance. "The outcome of the conversation is dependent on how Andy reacts to what I have to say. Whether or not the conversation itself goes well isn't something I can predict, but I do hope he'll keep an open mind when we do get a chance to–"

"I did not invite the two of you here to have private conversations in my foyer," Fernando shouted from the kitchen, interrupting Sharon.

They shared an eye roll and a head shake. "We were on our way back in there," Andrea said, guiding them towards the kitchen with her hand on Sharon's back.

"You were doing no such thing," he said when they walked in, giving them judging looks while Anthony bumped his hip into Fernando's and whispered something she could not make out. It made the shorter man smile wickedly, his eyes fixing on Sharon's mouth.

Andrea turned to look too, brows knitted.

Sharon looked from one of her friends to the other. "Is there a reason you're both staring at me?"

Anthony rolled his eyes and walked over to Sharon, placing his hand on her shoulder and shaking his head. "Let's go sit down before he starts making wild assumptions – and be thankful you were too far away to hear the monologue I just had to endure."

"They're not so wild when she comes back in here with recently applied lipstick," Fernando mumbled under his breath as he went to the fridge.

Andrea watched Sharon's eyes widen and laughed a little to herself, following her and Anthony to the table. "You're too invested in our relationship, Morales."

"Stop leaving the room together all the time to be alone and maybe I'd lose interest."

. . .

Sharon was drinking from her wine when Anthony stopped the story he'd been telling about one of his classes earlier in the week and bobbed his pointed forefinger from her to Andrea while squinting slightly. "Okay, so what's the story here?"

"The story?" Andrea questioned back.

"Yeah. There's a story, I can tell from a mile away. You're too..."

"Too what?" Sharon asked, her guard going up a little as she straightened her spine. Anthony had been friendly and funny, and knew how to keep people entertained throughout the night, but she felt her skin prickle at the unfinished statement.

Andrea covered Sharon's hand with her own on top of the table and leaned a couple inches forward. "Too what?" Andrea echoed, more patient than Sharon realized she had sounded when she asked.

Morales looked down at Andrea's hand on hers and then shook his head. "He didn't mean anything bad, did you Anthony?"

"Oh, of course not. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You didn't," Andrea said immediately.

Fernando gave her a disbelieving look and glanced down to their hands again, and Sharon untucked her thumb and brushed it against Andrea's palm. Sharon understood what he was silently saying, for she was familiar with Andrea's gestures and also recognized the protective way she moved closer to Anthony as if blocking his comments from going directly to her. It was something she didn't think Andrea was aware of herself most times, just one of her natural instincts when she felt something was upsetting Sharon and she wanted to communicate that she wasn't in it alone.

"I think what Anthony wants to know is how we became friends, Andrea, that's all," she said in a soft voice.

"Yeah, that's all. You obviously care very deeply for each other. I was only wondering how it all began."

Andrea leaned back and let a small smile touch her lips. She reached for her wine and glanced in Sharon's direction, raising her brow in question. Sharon nodded to answer the silent question, smiling as well, letting her know she was fine.

"Well, you're right about there being a story there."

Sharon already knew what to expect before Andrea said anything, knowing exactly what Andrea would say.

"I undressed her the first day we met, and she's found me irresistible since then," Andrea said with a proud grin and a twinkle in her eyes as she sipped her wine.

Sharon laughed into her hand. Fernando, also familiar with the story, laughed as well. Anthony, on the other hand, looked intrigued and confused.

"And this is exactly why people always question what is actually going on between the two of you," Fernando said.

"Let them." Andrea licked her lips and returned her glass to the table.

"So she didn't undress you, or...?" Anthony asked, still completely confused. He looked from one woman to the other and ran his hand over his dark hair. "I'm clearly missing something here."

Sharon smiled kindly at him. "You are – the entire story. She enjoys making sure I never forget that that is honestly how we met, especially when other people are around. I'm quite sure she doesn't think she gets enough opportunities to tell people about it, and I'm a little embarrassed to say that it's actually something she considers an accomplishment."

"Uhm, please tell me you don't seriously believe I wouldn't think meeting a sexy woman who wants me to undress her within the first two minutes of meeting her a small accomplishment. I'm not going to write home about it, but I'm definitely going to give myself a pat on the back when nobody's looking."

Sharon rolled her eyes affectionately, giving Andrea a squeeze underneath the table.

"It's not nearly as interesting as she makes it seem," Sharon said to Anthony. "We met in the courthouse – how long's it been now? Eleven years ago, we met in the courthouse restroom. I needed to change and hadn't had time to go home, so I was doing so in the bathroom."

"She had forgotten to lock the door," Andrea added in, looking down at the hand on her lap as she spoke. Sharon went to pull it away when she noticed she hadn't moved it, but Andrea covered it with her own and let it linger.

"Andrea forgot to knock on the door."

"I was in a rush that morning, too," she reminded Sharon.

"Some rush you were in. You stared at me for almost a minute before you even moved from the doorway," Sharon teased. She'd blushed profusely when this happened, but she could now tell the story without doing so.

"She was putting on her stockings. Forgive my brain for momentarily shutting down. I was more shocked than anything."

"You're still sticking with that lie?" Sharon said, squeezing Andrea's thigh as she leaned over, a little closer to her.

"You're still going to deny you didn't find me irresistible since the day we met?" Andrea challenged, leaning in as well, grinning at her.

"Well," Sharon said slowly, licking her lips as her eyes dropped down to Andrea's for a brief moment.

Fernando cleared his throat across the table and they both jumped in their seats. "You were saying."

Sharon felt heat crawl up the back of her neck and flush her cheeks. "My zipper had been stuck, and I had been struggling with it just before she walked in on me."

"So naturally," Andrea said with a smile, "she asked the stranger who had just been checking her out if they could unzip her dress."

"You were flustered and blushing almost as hard as I was. I was certain you wouldn't cause me any harm."

"I was not!"

"Oh, sweetheart, you most certainly were."

"I was not," she said to Anthony.

"She was," Sharon said with a smirk.

Morales got up and grabbed the empty wine bottle. "I'm going to need another glass of wine if I have to sit through the two of you being so...cute," he said with a wrinkled brow.

"I think it's great," Anthony said, leaning forward. "So that's how it all started?"

"Well, that's how we met. I left immediately after and went to a different restroom. We bumped into each other again that day, though, maybe two or three hours later. She was in front of me on line in a coffee shop. I bought her coffee."

"And then flirted with me."

"Don't make me sound so terrible. We had a conversation that involved some flirting."

"And a lot of Andrea being extremely obvious when checking me out, again."

Andrea looked at Sharon as she laughed. "Is that all you really remember?"

It wasn't, no. She remembered how the previous twenty-four hours had given her a horrible headache and Andrea had made her smile and laugh more in those ten minutes they spent together than she had the entire week. But, Sharon simply smirked as she looked back at Andrea. "If you insist on always pointing out that you helped me undress the first day we met, I will always bring up how much you flirted with me."

"She used to be a huge flirt," Fernando said as he came out with a fresh, uncorked bottle of wine and started topping off glasses.

"Used to be?" Sharon took her glass and brought it to her mouth, laughing against the rim as she took a small sip.

"Yes, used to be. Who do I flirt with?" Sharon raised her brow as if to ask Andrea if she was seriously asking her that. "You don't count."

Sharon laughed. "I think I've learned you're more of a tease, anyway," she said under her breath, but it was loud enough for Andrea to hear it.

"I'm the tease?" she questioned, turning to look at Sharon while running her fingernail over the back of Sharon's hand and sending little waves of electricity across her skin.

Sharon licked her lips and looked down at her hand on Andrea's thigh. "I-I..." Andrea had been the one that kept her from moving her hand, and it wasn't as though she was touching Andrea anywhere inappropriate.

Andrea continued on with the story as though nothing was wrong, though, so Sharon only swallowed and drank more wine.

"By the end of the day, we'd bumped into each other a handful of times. I used, what I can admit now, was a stupid line about fate making us meet up so many times. I gave her my number and told her to call me if she ever wanted to meet on purpose."

"I never called."

"Wait," Anthony said, interrupting them. "You mean, you endured what I'm going to assume was probably terrible flirting each time you saw each other. You even sound like you might have enjoyed it. But she gave you her number and you never called her?"

"Oh, we don't have time for that story," Andrea said with a laugh.

"She was convinced she was straight," Fernando said, trying to pretend he was more focused on his wine than the conversation.

"Was?" Anthony asked with a curious expression on his face that made Sharon smile.

"It was not that I was convinced I was straight. I had never been attracted to a woman before."

"She also didn't date them, or anyone. I found that out two weeks later when I saw her again at the courthouse."

"I bought her coffee as an apology when I noticed she was there, and she accepted my apology when I told her why I hadn't called. The short version, that is."

"She told me she was flattered but uninterested."

"I wasn't that direct."

"But I heard you loud and clear. I wasn't her type."

"As in a man."

"So..." Anthony stretched out.

Fernando sighed. "Must you two always drag this story out?! Sharon was very straight – until she wasn't and she was then very gay for Andrea. No, that did not change that she didn't date. Don't ask, you don't want to be more confused than you already are. Just accept it. They never dated, but Andrea said she could be a good friend if Sharon wanted that. They met for coffee multiple times a week until it started becoming lunches and dinners, and now here we are, nearly eleven years later. Do you see how quickly I got through that?"

"I'm not gay," Sharon pointed out. "I'm bisexual."

"And our friendship was more than coffee and lunches."

"Jesus Christ. You two are impossible to satisfy."

Andrea and Sharon shared a look and then smirked as they lifted their wine glasses and silently drank from them.

to be continued…