Pairing: Sharon/Andy

A/N: This was written before the episode 'Acting Out' was aired. While I love the idea of Sharon putting things together and coming to a conclusion on her own about what their relationship has become, Duff apparently does not. That being said, this is best enjoyed if you picture it before that episode with Andy's daughter.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything.

Prompt: Can I have fic with a Shandy kiss, just something that makes me flail with cute and melt a little. Yeah like a cute flaily fic with a kiss.

It's only fitting that she'd notice it while they're sitting in a busy restaurant. They had been out for Indian the first time she felt the flutter in her chest when he innocently brushed his fingers against the side of her hand. It felt as if her stomach was somersaulting when he laughed at her joke that night they'd tried that little vegetarian place by his house, his hand squeezing her arm. She hadn't thought too much of it then, but that was also the first time she had felt his lips against her own. Their evenings always ended with a friendly peck to the cheek. But when he leaned in that night, she felt the warmth of his lips against the corner of her mouth, brief but soft.

"You deserve to be happy, end of discussion," he'd said the first time they talked about Jackson over salads in her office. He had refused to hear anything else on the matter, stabbed his fork down into a cucumber, and then looked straight into her eyes and said, "You're an amazing woman, Sharon. He didn't deserve you." She had smiled, trying not to get lost in the deepness of his brown eyes. Once he gave her hand one of those long, gentle squeezes, she'd given up and let her gratefulness for his presence in her life show as their gazing intensified.

It's been months of slow realizations, some that nearly took her breath away and others that she should have known from the start. How had she never noticed that it was he who had comforted her without her saying she needed it? There was always a shoulder beside her own, a few meaningful words to get her through tough situations. How had so much time gone by without her realizing that he looked at her like the key to his happiness was in her eyes? And, she has wondered many times in the past few months, does she look at him the same way he looks at her?

Now she sits across from him, her food untouched, and the last piece of a puzzle she hadn't known she was putting together has just fallen into its place. There's nothing special about this moment, nothing different from any other dinner they've shared. And yet it's when she realizes that she's falling for him, that she may have already fallen for Andy Flynn. Her heart, so full and heavy, starts to beat faster, racing along with her thoughts.

She wonders if he's aware of what she's just figured out. It sometimes surprises her how well he knows her, how easily he picks up on things she tries to keep hidden. It wouldn't shock her if he had connected the dots before she could. But what she really wants to know is, if he's aware that their connection isn't strictly platonic and professional, does he continue to spend time with her because he also feels what she feels, or does he only want a friendship with her…

"Hey," Andy says as he reaches across the table and squeezes her hand. There's concern in his eyes, which she assumes is because she's been uncharacteristically withdrawn. Usually they talk and laugh so much the time flies by without them noticing. However, she hasn't said much to him tonight.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, trying not to look at his hand still resting on hers. She can feel the heat of his skin warming her, not only where he touches but everywhere else. She forces herself not think about how much she enjoys the contact, knowing the heat will only grow until there's a pinkish tint to her cheeks that she can't explain away. "Did you say something?"

The crinkles beside his eyes look deeper when he smiles at her then, and then he gives her hand a tight squeeze before pulling away. She doesn't think about the way her hand tingles. She doesn't acknowledge the lack of warmth from his skin. She doesn't miss it already.

"Nothing entertaining," he jokes, grinning at her.

She smiles automatically, but her attention is on his lips and not the words he says. She's never thought about how gentle his lips are until this moment, never caught herself imagining what it would be like to press her mouth against his and share a kiss that could not be mistaken as something friendly. She's staring, she realizes, and the flush she was trying to avoid is creeping up her neck as she looks up and meets intrigued brown eyes. How long had she been looking at his mouth? More importantly, how long did he silently watch her do it?

She reaches for her glass of water, unable to take her eyes off of his as she takes a few much-needed swallows. It's cool and refreshing, but she's sure she's still blushing once she puts her beverage down. Suddenly, there's a small laugh coming from across the table. She wants to sink down in her seat, not sure she wants to hear what he's going to say when he opens his mouth to speak.

"Did I tell you how great you look tonight?" he asks, and her stomach does that flipping thing it does around him. It's not what she's expecting. She'd expected he call her out on her obvious staring. But this might be worst, she decides, because the compliment comes unexpectedly and she hasn't the slightest idea what prompted it.

She slips the tip of her tongue between her lips to quickly dampen them, deciding to stop the internal panicking. "Yes," she says carefully, "you actually have told me."

He nods and sweeps his eyes over what is visible of her. "Guess I'll just have to tell you again, then," he says, leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. His voice lowers when he says, "You look really good tonight."

Sharon's never been as flustered with someone as she is with Andy. Her mouth opens, a small sound leaves her throat, and then she closes her mouth back. He's not grinning anymore; he looks more serious now. He's testing the waters, she thinks. It's the only thing that makes sense to her. He's trying to figure things out without having to ask any questions. And if the way her eyes soften and she's rendered speechless means anything, perhaps he's figuring out everything he needs to know.

"Beautiful, actually," he then says, smiling at her when she blushes all over again.

"Thank you," she manages, and then feels her smile growing to match his.

They sit in silence for long moments. Her heart calms down once she stops worrying about what he might say, and she can feel her internal temperature going back to normal. He quietly laughs, and she laughs along, like they know something nobody else in the room knows. It's freeing, because even without asking or saying anything, she knows that something has just changed.

It's when he is walking her to the elevator that the giddiness has finally died, that the panicking she was doing is only a memory. Their fingers brush and their shoulders bump as they walk down the corridor. She acknowledges the electrifying feeling, smiles to herself because it all makes sense to her now. He doesn't press the button to call for the elevator like he usually does, and because she's still experiencing the nervous tumbling in her belly, she doesn't either. She turns to look at him, her breathing picking up despite the idea in her head that she's going to remain calm.

"I had-" she says as he goes, "This was-"

She slides her hands into the pockets of her jacket and shakes her head. "You go."

Andy clears his throat, looking around them before bringing his attention to her eyes. "The second half of dinner was different." Sharon 'hmmm's. "In a good way," he adds, grinning almost nervously.

"Yeah, it was," she agrees softly. "I had a good time tonight."

"So did I," he says, still grinning.

Sharon smiles, feeling a bit silly as they stand there, two people who usually communicate so well with one another now unable to say much of anything. And still, all she says is, "I could tell."

He laughs, most likely at their awkwardness, and then steps closer. She tries not to drop her eyes to his mouth expectantly, but she can feel his breath against her skin and admits that she momentarily doesn't remember the basics of self-restraint. His tongue has just swept across his lips, wetting them and making them look as soft as she already knows they feel. She feels her face tingle, right where he usually kisses her on the cheek. But is he still going to do that? Have silent acknowledgments changed enough that he understands she would be okay with him kissing her properly? Does he know that as she stares at his lips, feeling lightheaded with only her thoughts, that she wants him to kiss her on the mouth?

She slowly looks up into his eyes, and her heart thuds painfully from the look he's giving her. He knows, she thinks. She licks her lips, her hands trembling in her jacket pockets as she removes the distance between them. It's an entirely new sensation to feel his fingers brush across her face, their lightly-calloused tips gliding against her until he's cupping her jaw. She wants to watch the way his eyes express all the unspoken words she hopes to one day hear, but she feels breathless from it all and closes her eyes.

She still finds that she's not prepared for the way her heart seems to stop when he brings his lips to hers and holds them there. It's something she hadn't known she wanted so badly, the pressure of him, the scent of his skin flirting with her nose, the warmth of his hand cradling her head. She sighs and brings her hands from her pockets, gently placing them on either side of his head as she moves her lips against his.

He responds instantly, as if he'd been waiting to make sure she was okay with it. The way he had kissed her cheek all those times didn't compare to the gentle caresses he gave her mouth. She'd always liked to be kissed slowly, tenderly, and he does just that without her even having to let him know what she likes. She hums in her throat and savours the taste of his kiss, her hand sliding to the back of his head and pulling him closer.

The kiss ends far too quickly. He doesn't pull away fully, his mouth still lingering, his breath whispering across her wet lips. She keeps her eyes closed, and she doesn't move her hands from his face or hair. She hums and rubs her lips together, flushed with a warm glow of pleasure.

"Well," she rasps, humming again.

"Not yet," he says, leaning back in to kiss her a second time.

Despite his words, she's surprised when he moves his hand to her neck and traces her lip with his tongue. A small moan fills her throat and escapes when his tongue licks between her lips and she opens her mouth. His fingers are rubbing over her clavicle and slipping under the collar of her jacket a little to pull her closer. She barely processes the way she clutches at him, or the way she kisses him back with eagerness she hasn't felt in years. It's long moments of pure, unapologetic enjoyment as she kisses him back. And when he stops this time, she opens her eyes to look at Andy and make sure they're both on the same page.

"You are one hell of a kisser," he says, grinning at her stupidly.

Sharon's eyes widen before a breathy laugh fills the air. She feels light and happy, and so she leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek like he used to do to her. "Goodnight, Andy," she whispers, smiling, knowing that not much has changed at all.

The end. Thanks for reading.