"Cherish all your happy moments; they make a fine cushion for old age." -Booth Tarkington

Andy glanced over at the kid in his car, more focused on his phone than anything. With his car in the shop, Andy had agreed to take him home while Sharon finished up the paperwork from the latest case. He would have preferred to stay and wait for her, but she had insisted and Rusty had been stuck at PAB too long anyway.

"Hey, Andy?" Rusty's voice surprised him and he resisted the urge to look at him, his attention mostly focused on the dark, wet road ahead.

"Yeah?"

"When is Sharon's birthday?"

He looked over again, his gaze lingering as he processed the question. "Uh…."

"What, you don't know your girlfriend's birthday?" Rusty made a brief face at the mention of their relationship that Andy barely caught.

"You don't know your mother's birthday?" He shot back, an eyebrow arching up.

"I don't know my other mother's birthday either," Rusty admitted.

"How the hell…." Andy forced himself to stop and shook his head slowly. "It should've been on all the paperwork for your adoption. You didn't pay attention?"

"I don't know." Rusty shrugged. "It was all legal BS."

"It was on the first page!" He shook his head again, baffled at Rusty's ignorance and confused by his own. "Why do you need her birthday?"

"Judge Grove and Mom want me to apply to UCLA and I need her info. Like, did you know her middle name is O'Dwyer?"

Andy let out a quiet laugh. "It's her maiden name, kid."

"Oh. So, can you find out her birthday?" He went back to his phone and Andy tapped his fingers along the steering wheel.

"You could ask her," he told him.

"You could too."

"Uh, yeah, but it's less awkward if you ask her." Rusty shifted in his seat, his eyes still on his phone.

"Yeah, let me tell you something about women. If her kid forgets her birthday, she's upset. If her boyfriend or husband forgets, it's a mess. Trust me." He emphasized his last words and gave Rusty a brief, pointed look. "Just ask her."

Rusty sighed and locked his phone, dropping it in his lap. He was quiet the rest of the drive home, only speaking up when Andy got out of the car and started to follow him to the elevator.

"Oh, you're staying?"

Andy hesitated and watched the kid, his hand resting in his pocket. "Yeah, your mom asked me to order dinner. That okay?"

"Oh, yeah." He adjusted his backpack on his shoulder and led the way into the elevator. "So, since you're staying…"

Andy gave him a firm look as the elevator started up toward the eleventh floor. "No, I'm not asking her."

Rusty gave a resigned sigh and was once again quiet. They walked into Sharon's condo and Rusty headed back to his room, leaving Andy to order dinner and settle on the couch.

It was nearly an hour before Sharon came through the door, looking like she was more than ready to be done for the day. Andy started to get up, but Rusty came down the hallway first. Andy sighed, wishing the kid would give her at least a few minutes to settle in.

"Hey, Mom?"

Andy watched as she hid most of her exhaustion behind a small smile and a hum of acknowledgment as she dropped her purse and keys by the door.

"Uh…" He shuffled where he stood, hesitating long enough that she finally looked at him after stepping out of her shoes and picking them up. "When's your birthday?"

She immediately raised an eyebrow and looked from Rusty to Andy in search of a conspiracy or plan between them. Andy raised his hands in surrender and shook his head, allowing her to return her gaze to her son. "My birthday?" she repeated, her voice apprehensive.

"Yeah, I need it for the UCLA application." He fiddled with his hands in front of him and quickly glanced at Andy.

"Oh. April 28th," she answered after a moment, her smile returning. Rusty shifted again, somehow even more uncomfortable and awkward, but he didn't say anything. "1966" she added, her eyebrow once again arching up.

"Okay, thanks!" He hurried back down the hallway and Sharon shook her head as she finally moved out of the entryway.

"He doesn't know my birthday?" She looked at Andy, her eyebrow still raised and now directed at him.

"I guess not." Andy shrugged and stood up, taking her shoes while she shrugged out of her jacket.

"We just celebrated a few months ago." She crossed her arms, the movement popping the top button of her blouse open.

Andy could tell he was entering danger territory and quickly took her jacket from her too. "Kid's got a lot going on and it's not like he's celebrated a lot of birthdays in his life. You also never make a big deal out of yours. It's like your sense of occasion evaporates come April."

She started toward the bedroom and he followed, putting her things up while she stepped into the closet. "My 'sense of occasion' is celebrating others or holidays, not myself." Her head poked out of the closet and he could tell she had already pulled her blouse off from her bare shoulders. "Besides, you refuse to let anyone do anything for your birthday. September 20th, by the way." She smiled and disappeared into the closet again.

"Yeah, birthdays just aren't as fun when you hit 50. Not the same as 18 or 21, anyway." He crossed his arms and leaned against the door jamb, his eyes focused on the partially closed closet door. "What are you supposed to do anyway?"

"A nice dinner, maybe a beach day or little vacation," she answered, her voice slightly muffled. "Anything that's not standing over a dead body, really."

He thought back and grimaced at the string of horrendous serial killings they'd investigated the end of April. "Damn," he managed. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What? Sorry, I can't solve your murder, it's my birthday?" She stepped out of the closet in a tank top, cardigan, and lounge pants, and a displeased expression. "We celebrated that weekend and that's all I needed." His eyes roamed over her and he couldn't help the small smile that appeared. "We've lost too many Christmases and birthdays to crimes in our lives. There's no use getting upset over it. Rusty not remember my birthday, however…" She trailed off and caught his smile.

"Yeah, you're right," he finally agreed. "But it's still nice to enjoy what we have. Especially knowing your fiftieth is next year." His smile turned into a grin, knowing he'd get a reaction out of her.

"Andrew Flynn, if you dare to plan some big event…" She fixed him with a firm, warning stare that he easily and happily ignored.

"It's so far away, I might forget you told me not to by then." He shrugged and pushed off from the door. "You'll just have to wait and see." He watched her for another moment and then headed for the kitchen, listening to the sound of her footsteps hurriedly following him.

"Andy, don't you dare."

"Hmmm. Dinner's here if you're hungry." He started pulling takeout containers out of the bags that had arrived shortly before her, but watched her out of the corner of his eye.

She started to retort but quickly realized it was a lost battle and instead grabbed silverware and napkins. "You're insufferable, you know that?"

"And yet, you love me anyway," he replied, following her to the table.

"You're lucky on that one." She quickly set the table while he brought the food over, his smile replaced with a slightly pensive look.

"I am," he agreed as he sat next to her. "I am very lucky."

His change in mood caught her off guard and she rested her hand over his, her fingertips stroking along the tops of his fingers. "We both are," she said softly. "We must be crazy to be dating at our age."

"You say that like we're old." He looked at her with feigned offense and she laughed.

"Depends on who you ask."

"We're children compared to Provenza and dinosaurs compared to Rusty." He joined her laughter and turned his hand over to take hers. "I love you."

She leaned over to kiss his cheek and squeezed his hand before she pulled hers back. "I love you too, but I'm also starving."

"That's what happens when you don't eat lunch." He watched as she started to eat, but smiled, already working on a plan for her next birthday.