Work Text:
Adagio
“Just so we’re clear on this, I’m a nervous wreck”
“I hadn’t noticed” he fires back, rolling his eyes at her.
They’re sitting on her couch, about to inform Rusty of their very illicit and incredibly new relationship, and she feels like throwing up. His hand is on her knee, lightly, almost friendly, because she’s been jittery about it all day and he doesn’t want to push her. He honestly thinks the kid knows more than he lets on anyway, because it’s been a week since the rescue and she’s been with Andy an awful lot, either at work or not. But she’s still terrified that this will shatter the tenuous balance they’ve struck, though she had promised to let Rusty know of new developments and she refuses to go back on her word.
“Sharon, calm down. The kid will get over it; we just have to show him that it’s not going to affect him”
“I promised I’d give him thirty days’ notice if something was going to change for him. This is not thirty days”
“Life doesn’t work to a damn calendar” he snaps, their conversation cut short by the sound of a key in the door.
Her head whips around and then back to Andy for a brief second, and then back to the door just as it opens and Rusty steps through. He stops half way into the room, eyeing them both suspiciously, and nobody speaks for a tense moment. Andy thinks she’s honestly frozen in place, and he’d find the whole thing hilarious if he wasn’t troubled by Miss Control herself completely losing it.
“If you two are going to, like, lecture me on not telling anyone about you, or something, don’t bother- I know”
And with a roll of his eyes and a petulant sneer he turns around, his backpack on his shoulder, and stalks down the hall. Sharon blinks after him, completely at a loss for what to say. Andy pats her knee once and hoists himself off the couch.
“I’ll talk to him” he mutters.
She’s focusing so intently on the hallway that she barely notices Andy is not beside her until she sees him disappear into Rusty’s room. The boy had left the door open, his silent signal that he doesn’t mind interruptions, and so she reasons that he must not be truly upset, but she has no idea what to make of his nonchalance, or the fact that he didn’t scream bloody murder and slam a few doors. Blinking slowly, she rises from the couch and pads silently down the hall, stopping just before the doorway when she overhears Andy’s voice. It feels rather clandestine, but she thinks it’s good for them to develop a relationship without her as a mediator, so she stays quiet and blatantly eavesdrops on their conversation.
“I don’t care about that” she hears Rusty say. “I just don’t know why she didn’t tell me sooner is all”
“Rusty, we were just figuring things out ourselves. You gotta understand, we only got together this week”
“Please. No details, please”
“No details, I promise. But all these months I’ve been hanging out here- you have to know that nothing happened then”
There’s a pause, and she imagines a look on Rusty’s face, and she desperately wants to join the conversation, but she doesn’t.
“Really. I’m not messing with you”
“So what, it took you getting shot for you guys to admit you had feelings for each other?”
She almost laughs at the incredulous tone of his voice, and brings her knuckles up to rest against her mouth. It must seem rather ridiculous to anybody not caught in the emotional shit-storm that has been their courting.
“Pretty much”
“Well that’s just dumb”
“Tell me about it”
“Especially since practically everyone could tell anyway”
There’s another pause, and she wonders how the resident smartarse will handle this one.
“Sharon, you gonna hang out there all night, or are you gonna help me here?”
She starts, and mentally calls touché, and then rounds the door with a guilty expression on her face, almost a grin but mostly just sheepish. She comes to sit on Rusty’s bed next to him, a respectable distance from his legs. Andy is sitting in the chair under the window, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees.
“You don’t have to explain anything, you know. I do know what sex is” says Rusty.
She blushes furiously, looking to Andy for help, and she doesn’t miss the smirk on Rusty’s face at her discomfort.
“Rusty, I didn’t want to go back on my word-“
“What word?” he asks.
He genuinely looks a bit confused, and she wonders if maybe her own relationships were not really his concern when he made her promise to keep him in the loop. She figures that as a homeless sixteen year old, his greatest concerns must have been getting a hot meal and having a safe place to sleep, and not having to sleep with older men to afford it. Part of her tension melts away and she is thankful that he is being so mature about this. She loves him like a son, and she doesn’t want that relationship to be damaged just because she has Andy now too.
“I promised to give you plenty of notice if something was going to change for you, and in this instance, that wasn’t possible, and I’m sorry”
“Sharon” sighs Rusty, sitting up straighter as though he’s about to give her the lecture, and she almost grins at that. “What’s going to change for me here? I mean really. You two already spend plenty of time together. And it’s not like Andy needs my bed”
She blushes again at that, and looks down, her hair covering her face, and she sees out of the corner of her eye Andy lean back and cover his eyes with his hand in exasperation. Rusty looks far too smug.
“The way I see it, it’s kinda none of my business”
She reaches out her hand and grasps his where it rests on the bed, meeting his eye, her expression serious enough that he knows she’s not going to let him brush this away. Being thoughtful, or considerate, or accommodating may or may not be the way he dealt with his mother’s relationships, but he is her family now. She is determined to make sure he knows that.
“It does affect you, and it is your business, and I want you to know that your place here won’t change one bit. Do you hear me?”
Rusty’s look turns sheepish, in that way it does when he’s blatantly reminded that she won’t back down from protecting him, ever. He nods, gently, keeping eye contact and feeling something like security roll through him. The passion in her words- the way that her voice hitches just-so when she talks about protecting him and loving him- makes him feel wanted in a way that he’s not used to. He hasn’t been very good at showing her just how grateful he is to her for giving him that gift, but he treasures it, and his acceptance of her happiness is his own way of trying to say thank you.
“I know” he answers. He thinks he must look serious enough, because she accepts it without making him repeat it. She nods, and squeezes his hand, and goes to stand, moving towards the door.
“But if I ever hear you two having sex I will call child services for abuse”
She just about dies. She stagers on the spot, having no clue how to respond to that, though laughing, crying and running all seem like reasonable answers. From the chair she hears a full-bodied laugh, and turns to see Andy leaning back, holding his hand to his mouth as a fit of giggles take over, and he’s almost crying with laughter. Eyeing him, then Rusty, then Andy again, she spins on her heals and walks away, mortified, heading straight for the wine bottle that is open in her fridge.
Andy stands and walks to Rusty’s bedside, clapping him on the shoulder as one last peel of laughter rings out. Rusty looks half embarrassed for his comment, half proud, and Andy squeezes his shoulder in silent support.
“Hey Flynn?”
“Yeah kid?”
“Just out of curiosity, if Cynthia does find out about you two, what would happen?”
Andy’s eyes soften, and he perches himself on the side of the bed, hearing the vulnerability in Rusty’s voice, and perhaps a hint of genuine fear.
“It probably wouldn’t be good” he admits, nodding his head to the side in recognition.
“Why? I mean, what does it matter, if you’re not living here?”
“Well, child services wouldn’t be the ones who had the problem with it, so much as our bosses. See, I could be put down as one of your other carers, which I wouldn’t do anyway since like you say, I don’t live here. But the thing is, if child services found out you had another adult in your constant company, they’d be compelled to run a background and safety checks, and put it on your file”
“Like the file they put together on Daniel?” he clarifies.
“Right. Now, they probably wouldn’t care, since I have a history of being in contact with you anyway-”
“I don’t see Cynthia caring. She knows you guys pretty well”
“Yeah, she does. But if she was going to put me down as another contact, work would undoubtedly find out about it-“
“And you two being together is supposed to be a secret” Rusty finishes, nodding in acknowledgement, all of the pieces falling together as he realises that the very people who can’t know about their relationship are the people who would have to be informed if one of their detectives was being put down as a foster care contact.
“What’s so bad about you two being together anyway?” he asks. If Andy’s not mistaken Rusty sounds a bit offended that the rules are so prohibiting, and he smiles a little bit, because he knows that feeling.
“That’s just the rules. Plus, it doesn’t look good, the boss and her detective having an affair. It’s not just about the rules that are written down, you know? There’s expectations; standards. It sucks, but there you have it”
Andy looks to the hands in his lap, and doesn’t notice the fierce look of protectiveness that crosses Rusty’s face at the thought of his two pseudo parents having their lives ruined because someone couldn’t keep their mouths shut.
“You can trust me” he says, determination and pride colouring the way he sits a little straighter. Andy looks up at him and smiles again at the maturity he sees in the boy.
“I know I can, kid. I never doubted you”
Rusty nods at him, his chest deflating a little in humility. He sits back in to his pillows, the both of them silent for a moment, and they think of all the missed opportunities in their lives to have father-son moments like this one, and it brings an air of bittersweet. Andy leans forward, his elbows on his knees again, looking at the wall ahead, but not really seeing. They are comfortable for a moment being quiet, until Rusty speaks.
“Don’t hurt her… okay?”
Andy looks at him quickly. His tone is both timid and protective, his brow furrowed just enough that Andy knows it’ll come to blows if the boy thinks it will do any good. Andy doesn’t doubt that either, and he smiles reassuringly, a quirk of his lips, and a small nod.
“I’ll do my best” he promises.
“You better”
Patting his leg, Andy stands and slips his hands into his pocket, looking down at Rusty with a contemplative look on his face, still slightly sceptical.
“You’re really okay with this?”
Rusty shrugs. “I don’t see that I have much choice” he says lightly, stating a fact. “Plus, since you two became a thing she’s been less on my back- it’s been kind of nice, actually” His face turns just a little more serious, his eyes focusing on the doorway for a moment. “And honestly, she doesn’t have… I mean, it’s kinda just the two of us, here, which is great- really great, and I love it, don’t get me wrong… but it’s nice to see her happy. She deserves to be happy”
If he didn’t think it would make Rusty completely uncomfortable, Andy would hug him, long and hard, and maybe kiss him on the forehead. The pride he feels in that moment can’t be quantified, so he just steps forward and holds out his hand. Rusty looks up at him, confused for a moment, and looks down at the hand, before clasping it hesitantly. It’s less of a shake and more of a squeeze, but they look each other in the eye and come to a silent understanding.
“You’re a great kid, Rusty. Don’t let anybody ever tell you otherwise”
Seeing Andy almost choked up with emotion makes Rusty entirely sheepish, and he has nowhere to run since they’re already in his room. But Andy notices, and so affords him so privacy, stepping back and putting his hand in his pocket again. “Thank you” he says, and he really means it.
Rusty just nods and picks up the book on his nightstand, giving Andy the opportunity to walk out of the room. He does, and pads down the hallway, letting out a breath as he hangs his head and makes his way to the kitchen. He rounds the corner and sees Sharon leaning against the bench on the kitchen side of the island, a nervous look on her face and a glass of white wine in her hand.
“How’d you go?” she asks.
Andy just shrugs with a smile as he steps up to her, placing one hand around her hip and his lips on her hairline, half kissing her there. She leans into him, her eyes closing for just a moment in contentment, and they both can’t believe that they’re actually allowed to do this now, after so many months of restraint.
“He’s fine” answers Andy. “He promises to keep it secret, and I really don’t think he cares, to be honest”
She sighs with relief, and he feels her relax under his hand.
“He’s offended about the rules though” he adds, and she huffs. “And he made me promise not to hurt you”
He pulls back and looks at her, seeing her wide grin at his last comment. She’s half flattered, half amused, but once again he just sees pride. They are both lucky to have each other, he thinks, the boy and her. He smiles at her when she meets his eye, and she leans into him again, letting her eyes slip shut as he brings his other arm up to circle her. He hears the clink of the glass as she places it gently on the bench top, and then her arms come around her waist and they stand like that for a long moment, just holding each other. It feels like the hardest obstacles to overcome in starting this relationship are almost over, and they are finally free to just enjoy being in each other’s orbit, no longer circling, but colliding together in the best possible way.
“Did you want to stay?” she asks quietly into his chest.
“I’d love that” he replies. “But I don’t have a change of clothes, and I have that deposition to take down first thing in the morning”
She hums in response, understanding, if a little disappointed.
“Plus, give the kid more than one night to get used to the idea of closed-door sleepovers”
She snorts into him and whacks his hip lightly in reproach. “You’re terrible”
He chuckles a little bit at how genuinely adorable she is in her close interpersonal relationships. If someone had asked him what she was like when he first knew her, he’d have probably given them a few choice words. When he learned she was married with children, a fleeting thought in his mind was that it was probably for money or convenience, and it had to be an immaculate conception, because the thought that the wicked witch was capable of enough intimacy for marriage and parenthood seemed preposterous.
Now he could slap himself. Now that he’s seen her capacity for kindness, and her willingness to go above and beyond, usually using those rules she loves so much as a weapon instead of a shield; now that he’s been on the receiving of her love; he can’t believe he thought anything less.
Then again, he does work with her daily, and to see her two sides-her diametrically opposite personas between work and home- is an equally fascinating facet of her. There’s a certain privilege in being let in close enough to see it. He cherishes that.
“I love you” he mumbles into her hair.
“I love you too” she whispers.
Neither of them is shy with expressing their feelings. He thinks it might be a product of age- of knowing exactly what they want and how they feel, in a way that the youthful often are not. But it never fails to hit a nerve when he hears that she loves him right back. He always acknowledged that he was the more desperate of the two of them, and that if either of them was going to crack, it would be the hothead and not the calm Captain. But he underestimated the depth of her feelings, even after getting those glimpses; even now that the playing field has been definitively levelled. It still takes him a little bit by surprise to hear her be so blatant about how she sees him or the place he holds in her heart, and in her life. It never fails to put a smile on his face. But then, he notices that she smiles too, when they exchange sentiment and love, and so he thinks he might not be alone in his surprise.
“I should go. I’ve got an early start in the morning” he says quietly.
She nods against him and slowly pulls back, tilting her chin up in silent request for a kiss, and he is happy to oblige.
“Ugh, really?”
They break quickly, both in mild shock. Rusty walks around to the kitchen, pulling the fridge door open with an exaggerated roll of his eyes.
“I was just leaving” says Andy, rubbing his hands up and down Sharon’s arms as he takes half a step back, his eyes on Rusty’s back. The boy stands up straight with a soda can in his hand, turning to face them again with a softer expression on his face, the teasing gone. He almost seems a little bit timid, and Andy imagines he’s not quite sure how to react to a relationship that takes him into account; that sees him as important too.
“Oh. You, um… you don’t have to” he stutters, not quite meeting their eyes, shuffling on the spot, moving back around towards the lounge. Andy follows, grinning at Sharon over his shoulder, and he can see she’s smiling too, an amused little grin.
“It’s okay kid” says Andy, throwing his hand in his pocket to check he has his keys as he makes his way to the door. “You don’t have to worry about any horizontal mambos tonight”
“Andy” shrieks Sharon, her eyes wide as he just chuckles at their outraged expressions. He winks at her playfully, enjoying the self-conscious look on her face, and the way she crosses her arms at him.
“I think I’m going to be sick” says Rusty, taking another step towards his room with the soda can in hand. Andy just chuckles again, stepping up to the door and grabbing hold of the handle. Sharon walks up to him, ever the gracious host no matter how unbelievably he behaves. She shakes her head and gives him a reproachful look that he completely ignores.
“Goodnight” he says, loud enough for them both to hear.
“See ya Flynn” says Rusty, disappearing down the hall again.
“I’ll see you tomorrow” he says quietly to Sharon, now level with him at the door. He pulls the handle and opens it with a grin, seeing she’s still mad at him for the last comment.
“Goodnight Andy” she says with a roll of her eye.
He can see the smirk that she’s trying to hide, though, and so he leans in a steals a kiss, and is rewarded when she kisses him back a little bit, brief as it is. He just smirks at her again, before stepping through the door like an excitable child. She holds the door open in his wake, watching him step into the corridor.
“Sweet dreams, sweetness” he calls with a wink and a swagger. She doesn’t answer him, just waves him off with a haughty flick of her wrist and an eyeroll, and she hears his laughter echo down the hall as she closes the door behind him. She shakes her head, leaning for a moment against the door, trying very hard to not find him as adorable as she does. She pushes herself away and into the kitchen to collect her forgotten glass of wine, and then makes her way to Rusty’s room. She hasn’t talked to him much since he got home, and she still wants to hear all about his day.
His door is ajar, though pushed almost completely closed, so she raps her knuckle on it twice and peaks through the gap. He’s reclined against his pillows, his laptop on his legs and the soda can open on his bedside table.
“Hey” she says, stepping inside with a soft smile.
“Are you two always going to be so… touchy-feely? Because that I have a problem with”
She huffs in amusement as she perches on the side of his bed, patting his leg with the hand not holding her glass. “We’ll try to keep PDA to a minimum around you, promise”
“I wasn’t kidding about the sex noises, you know. I will tell on you”
She can see that despite his joking tone he really is quite grossed out. It intrigues her that he’s usually so blasé and casual about sex, and yet in this case he seems so awkward. She thinks he is perhaps not used to equating sex with emotion- that between his mother’s relationships and his own homeless summer he’d come to view sex as just a commodity, or a means to an end. She thinks this might be the first relationship he’s seen up close that had love long before a physical connection, and perhaps he doesn’t know how to respond to that.
“Rusty, I promise I will do my best not to scar you for life” she says, patting his leg again with a smirk, sipping her wine.
She doesn’t add that she did have partners when her children were smaller and living with her, fleeting as the relationships were, and that the kids never once heard a thing. She doesn’t tell him that she knows what she’s doing, because that really is crossing a line. They’re both of an age that she really doesn’t think mentioning masturbation is in any way beneficial to their continued existence under the same roof. The very thought has her internally shaking her head, momentarily unable to meet his eye. Instead she keeps all that to herself and makes a mental note to keep it quiet if ever Andy stays at her place instead of her going over to his.
“Now tell me” she says, chipper and focused on him again. “How was your night? Where did you go for dinner?”
And for a few happy minutes the conversation shifts to Rusty’s great evening out with a few friends after Chess Club. He mentions a girl, and the way he downplays her importance tells her that he has a crush, and she hides her smile. He tells her they had pizza, and stopped by a game parlour, and he kicked everyone’s butts at a shooting game she’s never heard of, and he seems so happy and animated. She tries not to get too emotional with Rusty, but she can’t help but notice how he’s flourished and grown since she first knew him. She listens to him complain that he can’t get his licence yet like his friends, and she reminds him that she is not the only over-protective parent in L.A. They both share a smile at that, though he is restless to get out in the world on his own terms. She jokingly tells him not to grow up too fast, and despite the irony of that statement, part of her really means it.
Her life is good, she reflects, as she walks out of his room a little while later. She is in a good place, despite the ongoing secrecy of her relationship. She has Andy, finally, and she has a wonderful pseudo-son in Rusty, and she has finally settled down as head of Major Crimes. She knows what she’s doing, for the first time in a long time.
She walks to the kitchen and puts the wine glass in the sink to be hand-washed later, when she can be bothered, and then she walks to her room, intent on slipping into bed for a nice long hour with a good book and this feeling of contentment that has settled in her chest. As she’s changing into her pyjamas (because she wears full pyjamas again since Rusty has come to live with her) she lights a scented candle on her dresser, just for kicks, because she can.
Perched in her comfortable bed, in her favourite sleepwear, with her book, her glasses perched on her nose, she really has no complaints. It could really only get better if Andy was lying next to her, complaining that she wasn’t paying him enough attention.
But then, if Andy was lying in bed with her, she doesn’t think she’d be all that interested in the book anyway.