Work Text:
Amoroso
“It’s that charity ball thing this week”
They’re walking along Venice Beach, not holding hands, but eating ice creams and just enjoying the flurry of characters they’re encountering. He has been meaning to bring it up, but keeps forgetting, and frankly it’s uncomfortable to remind them both of the last conversation they had before his kidnapping a month ago. Nobody’s mentioned the ball since, though he thinks it might just be a topic of conversation on Monday morning.
“I know. I’ve already organised for Rusty stay at a friends’ for the evening” she says, licking her finger where some ice cream has dripped. He was thoroughly surprised when she had pointed to the stand and given him an expectant look, but couldn’t pass up the opportunity, and the sun is just warm enough to warrant a late-morning ice cream.
“So you’re still going?” he asks, his mouth full.
“Of course” she chirps. He thinks she sounds rather excited. “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to see you all dressed up” she adds, smirking at his face.
“Who says I’m going?” he counters, though he’s completely joking, and she can tell.
“You will”
“Oh really?”
“Because you won’t miss a chance to see me all dressed up either” she replies, and the grin on her face and glint in her eye makes him want to pull her to him in the middle of the boardwalk and kiss her stupid. He doesn’t, of course; instead he takes a big bite of ice cream so she doesn’t see how she affects him.
“Cocky shit” he mumbles at her, earns him a deep and honest laugh from her, her head thrown back in the sun.
He points at shops and street performers as they go, resisting all the while the urge to grab hold of her hand and claim her. But he knows that will just make her paranoid about being seen, so it’s far more relaxed and intimate for them to just walk side by side, occasionally tapping each other on the arm as they talk or observe, strolling past the people and avoiding the odd bike that isn’t using the bike path.
Two hours have passed before they know it, and they stop at a small café on the way back to the car to have some lunch. She laughs at him over her salad, and he chews eagerly into his veggie burger; some all-vegan creation that sounded far too fancy on paper, but turned out to be quite nice, just like she said it would, and he has to admit that being with a cultured woman such herself has been somewhat educating. They talk about Rusty, who always manages to make his way into their casual conversation, and about some of the more light-hearted rumours at work, though nothing that would land them in trouble. He knows a little more that she does, and he shares it with her, because he knows how it hurts her to still not be completely accepted; to have the reputation of FID and suspicion follow her like a bad smell. She’s proving herself to be an amazing leader for Major Crimes, but old habits are hard to break. He likes the way she leans in and props her chin on her hand when he tells her something juicy, her attention on his words, and a grin on her face as he lets slip who has been banging whom and for how long; all little things that didn’t quite cross her old desk but that are worth knowing anyway. It reminds him of high school a bit, though he’d never tell her that.
At one point she tells him a funny story about her sister, and he makes a mental note to later sit down with her and go through her family tree, just so he knows what he’s dealing with. Her sister sounds like a nut, but then every story about her family has seemed dynamic, and he can’t quite reconcile the fancy skiing Christmases with the summer camping holidays that involved leaches and a broken tire swing. He thinks that meeting these people is going to be one of the most terrifying yet educational experiences. He might even return her the favour, if his ex-wife ever lets him introduce her to the kids; if they’re ever public enough about their relationship to do the family thing.
Another hour manages to fly by while they eat, and when they finally make it back to the car she insists on driving, which he finds cute, if a bit confusing. They find themselves at a mall half way between the beach and her home; a big, white thing with multiple levels and a food court and Target at one end, and he finally understands her desire to take the wheel. She had mentioned shopping, but he’d completely forgotten. They duck in to a department store get him some new underwear, which is not nearly as embarrassing as he expected given how often she divests him of them, and then he is all hers as they browse the shops around the centre. He is pleasantly surprised to discover that she is not a crazy every-single-shelf-of-every-single-store kind of shopper. His ex-wife had been one of those, and his opinions on shopping has been tainted ever since, the outside benches becoming his best friends as she spent hours going through every store from top to bottom. But with Sharon it’s a quick look, an easy decision; she tries a few things on when he insists he wants to see it on her just for fun, but otherwise doesn’t torture him. Truthfully, the little black dress he’d thrust into her hands had been worth the five minutes it had taken her to get the right size. He has no problems carrying it in the bag for her either, knowing he’ll get to rip it off her body at some point.
They’re just walking out of a designer fashion store featuring prices he doesn’t even want to consider, when they hear a voice sound behind them.
“Captain Raydor”
There’s a moment where they both freeze, and without looking at each other they turn around and face Russell Taylor, a single shopping bag in his hand and a confused expression on his face.
“And Lieutenant Flynn” he adds, obviously surprised by her company once he has them facing him.
“Taylor” he says.
“Hello Chief. What a pleasant surprise”
Her voice is silky smooth, without a hint of irony, though Andy knows for a fact she must feel it. She smiles at Taylor, politely but with distance; the perfect combination to not arouse suspicion.
“Didn’t expect to see you here” says Taylor, obviously trying to assess what he’s stumbled over.
“Just doing some shopping” says Andy, holding up the bag in his hand. It’s a thick plastic bag, branded and not see-through, so Taylor can’t know that the contents are Sharon’s, and Andy is grateful for that. Explaining away a friendly catch-up at a shopping mall for lunch and coffee is one thing, but the fact that he’s carrying her shopping might just bring more scrutiny than they need.
“Andy very graciously offered to keep me company today since Rusty is at a friend’s house this weekend” she says, casual enough to not arouse suspicion, friendly enough to suggest that she’s happy to be out with him on the weekend. He admires her ability to make nothing out of the situation; to make Taylor believe they are just out as friends and co-workers, enjoying each other’s company. He’s impressed by her ability to give none of her emotion away as she talks about him as though he’s not standing by her side.
“And you decided to spend your afternoon shopping?” he asks. His tone is friendly enough, but there’s an edge to his voice, and a suspicion in his eye, and they can’t tell if he’s teasing or cataloguing them.
“Not my idea, that’s for sure” says Andy.
Sharon just grins good-naturedly at him, as though to convey that she’s somehow roped him into helping her pick up some things. The suspicion leaves Taylor’s face, but he still sizes them up. There is a fleeting moment where Andy thinks they’re actually caught, but it’s gone quickly, and they exchange pleasantries as they move in opposite directions.
“You two enjoy your afternoon. And I’ll see you Monday” he says, almost as a parting shot, and they both cover up their discomfort and move quickly away, almost a foot between them as they walk just in case he’s watching them go.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me” mutters Andy, rolling his eyes.
“Of all the people…” she adds. She nods as he points to a coffee shop that’s free-standing in the middle of the mall, and they make their way over. They find a seat and a young waitress walks over to them, halting their conversation for a moment. They order coffee and ask to see a menu, just for kicks, though it’s been a while since lunch and Andy wouldn’t mind something to snack on. They keep an eye out for Taylor as they’re perusing the menus, but he seems to have disappeared in the opposite direction, and they don’t really think he’d be petty enough to hang around and spy on them. They order quickly, and then settle back into their seats, picking up the conversation again.
“I feel like that was a cruel karmic trick” she mutters, sipping from her water glass as they wait for their tea and coffee.
“How do you mean?” he asks. He’d ordered a couple of sweet biscuits as well, and knows he’ll end up sharing them with her, so he made sure to order one she would like.
“I mean, the one time we decide to go out and have a day, just the two of us, and we run into the boss. You can’t tell me there wasn’t an element of fate in that”
He smirks at her; at the fact that the practical and rule-abiding Captain is obviously so frazzled by Taylor’s appearance that she’s willing to blame it on some universal intervention. Still, it does seem pretty outrageous, in a city as big as L.A, and so he only nods, and shrugs a little.
“You know what they say about Murphy’s Law”
“Murphy can kiss my ass” she mutters back.
He almost sprays water all over the table, but since she said that loud enough for only him to hear, he’d make a fool of himself. She notices his amusement, and smirks at his subdued reaction.
“You’re a bad influence on me” she adds, grinning. She doesn’t swear often, but it’s always effective when she does, and he can’t deny that he likes it a little bit.
“Me? You’re the one who wants to get frisky with Murphy”
“There’s only one person I’m interested in getting frisky with. What pisses me off is that we can’t even enjoy one innocent day out without being rudely reminded why this is a terrible idea”
They’re voices are low, and the café is almost empty anyway, except for a couple of people several tables away. They aren’t worried about being overheard, and so the conversation can be as candid as they like, but there’s still a lingering sense of being watched. Taylor has put them both on edge, which is a shame, he thinks, after the relaxing day they’ve had.
“We knew that would be the case when we agreed to give this a shot” he reminds her lightly.
He leans back as the waitress arrives with their drinks and his biscuits. He looks at the girl with a hint of flirt and thanks her, and she smiles sweetly and moves off, and Sharon can only watch the whole exchange with mirth. She ends up stealing the very biscuit he had deliberately ordered for her, and she makes no apologies and he makes no comment. It’s the little things between them- the easy ways they have with each other- which he loves so much.
“I knew what I was getting into” she responds with a nod, stirring a single sugar into her tea. “I knew what this was going to be like. I won’t say it’s not hard…”
“All I wanted to do when we were walking was hold your hand” he admits quietly, focussing on breaking his own biscuit in half, mostly for something to do. He takes a sip of his coffee.
“I know. Me too. And I don’t want to lose this, Andy. Really. But I think this has been a very good reminder to be careful”
“We are careful. Overly careful. We barely go out in public together at all” he says.
“I know that. And I know that we haven’t had many opportunities to have days like today, and I’ve loved every minute, really”
“But?”
“No buts” she says in reassurance. “I’m not going to give up just because we ran into Taylor once at a shopping mall. I’m just saying, we do have to be cautious”
“Okay. I can do that. I have no problem staying indoors with you, if that would make you feel better”
She rolls her eyes at his flirty look, and ignores the waggle of his eyebrows as she thinks of all the many ways they could kill entire days inside. Possibly naked. In fact, probably naked. She smirks right back at him, and takes a long sip of her tea.
“What time do we have to get the kid?” he asks, changing the subject now that they’ve sorted that out, at least for the moment.
“In just under an hour. He’ll have dinner at home, he said- his friend has to go out with family tonight”
“Well, we’ll finish up here and then head over and grab him”
“My car is still at your place” she reminds him.
“So come over to mine for dinner. I’ll cook you guys something, we can all watch a movie or something, then you can head home later”
She takes a minute to think about it, and then decides that it would be nice for her and Rusty to be at his home for a change, instead of Andy always coming over to theirs. And it’s not like Taylor will be hiding in the street to catch them out. “Sounds good” she says, sipping her tea.
She takes out her phone and has a quick texting conversation with Rusty, confirming that he’ll be ready for pick up shortly. They finish their drinks and biscuits in easy silence, happy to regain the ease of earlier. He knows that days like this one will be rare for them either way- their jobs keep them busy, and Rusty is always her main priority. He knows that they have to be just that bit more careful, not only because they might run into the likes of Taylor, but because the stakes are so much higher for them. Major Crimes is elite, and its detectives are always under scrutiny, never more than now, after a reshuffle of the organisation and a divisive new boss. The last thing he wants is to jeopardise all that she’s achieved, for herself and for other women in the job. He thinks she must know that about him, given the trust she has shown and how comfortable she’s been with spending time with him outside of work.
“So what do I call you?” he asks a short time later, slipping the receipt into his pocket as they’re gathering their things to go. Running into Taylor may have made them more wary, but it also has him thinking about the nature of their relationship. He’d like to at least throw the thought out there, whether they resolve it today or not.
“What do you mean?” she asks. They turn towards the carpark elevators, bags in hand, and she pushes the button as he asks his next question.
“Well, are you my girlfriend, my partner, my lover, what?”
She snorts in amusement, and then wrinkles her nose, shaking her head as she weighs each option, confused that he’s bringing this up but willing to play along. “I haven’t been someone’s girlfriend since high school-“ she starts, pressing the carpark button when they step inside the elevator.
“So lover then?” he says, grinning.
“It just sounds so… criminal; lover. Like we’re doing something wrong”
“Well, technically you are a married woman” he teases, knowing she won’t take it the wrong way; knowing where he stands in relation to her marriage. They’ve never really talked about it, and he’s not sure that he’s comfortable going there yet, but he respects that she has a husband, and he tries to remember each detail she gives him about that relationship so that he doesn’t over-step. He figures she has her reasons for still being married, and she’s entitled to keep those to herself until she’s ready to tell him. She hasn’t mentioned his ex-wives either, so he guesses that’s a serious conversation for another time.
“I would hardly call this an illicit affair” she says. “Although, I suppose on paper it could look that way” she concedes. “Married woman, your boss, secret relationship, nobody at work can know, always balancing real life commitments with our undying love”
He chuckles at her teasing, shaking his head, liking this playful side of her. She grins at him, swaggering out of the lift as the doors open to the carpark, her tongue between her teeth, walking backwards as he follows.
“So ‘partner’ then?” he says.
She hums in thought, her brow furrowing as she thinks it over. “But that doesn’t really fit either” she says, turning to him with a considering look. They walk through the carpark slowly, content to linger.
“We don’t live together” he acknowledges.
“We’re not public” she adds.
“We don’t share money or assets or any of that”
“Plus ‘partner’ just reminds me of work” she says, a fleeting thought of Andy and Provenza being house husbands together in some strange domestic co-habitation arrangement enough to have her stifling the giggles.
“Okay, so, not partner then”
They reach his car and he unlocks the doors, both of them depositing their bags in the back seat. They slide into the front seats, him driving this time.
“Why can’t we just… be?” she says lightly.
He starts the engine and they slip their belts on.
“So you can be my permanent, emotionally attached hook-up companion” he says, grinning.
“My interdependent sexual liaison” she counters, bursting into deep giggles at the ridiculousness of that. He half laughs, half groans, slipping the car into gear and reversing out of the parking space.
“How romantic” he says, still balanced between amusement and disgust, and she pats his shoulder, careful not to bump him as he’s changing gear. She tells him where Rusty’s friend lives, and he points the car towards the right exit.
“So no labels” he says, once they’re on the street.
“No. And if anybody asks, you’re my beau” she says with a grin.
“And you’re my sweetheart” he adds.
They both laugh at each other. It feels like high school again, trying to find the right balance between sickeningly sweet (which he honestly feels and would never admit to) and age-appropriateness, which also seems difficult given the circumstances of their relationship. He doesn’t tell her that there are many labels that he’d be happy to adopt, because this is still new and tenuous. He thinks one day he’ll have the courage to tell her though.
She lets out another peel of giggles a few seconds later. “I feel like that song from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” she laughs, thumping her head back against the headrest.
“Which one?”
“The coochy-woochy itchy-coo one. With the king and queen”
“God, I haven’t seen that movie in so long” he says, shaking his head with a smile.
“Mmm-hmm”
They fall into easy silence, Sharon giving the occasional direction, to which replies with ‘yes dear’, or ‘okay schnookums’, and she tells him to stop it with a grin but doesn’t really mean it. Truthfully, it’s liberating to be so silly in a relationship; it’s been a long time since she’s allowed herself the luxury. Her marriage had been like this, in the early years, and she misses it; the teasing and flirting and laughter, in between amazing sex and bedroom eyes. She usually dislikes overly sentimental pet names, though she does use some herself, but if Andy wants to call her stupid nicknames, she thinks she wouldn’t mind. Just so long as they can stay exactly like this, he can call her anything he wants.