I, and many other writers in this fandom, have recently been called out for not being feminist enough because we choose to write about Shandy. This is escapewithstories' and my response to that claim.

Having, and more importantly, wanting to have a relationship and fighting one's way through a chauvinistic world are not mutually exclusive. Women need not be loners in order to be considered feminists. Furthermore, being a feminist does mean making decisions for oneself (be it in choosing a writing topic or something far less trivial) and supporting other women in doing the same, even when we don't agree.

So, as we both disagree with the accusations thrown my way, we both, in feminist solidarity, decided to try and create something that might appeal to even the most disgruntled of reviewers.

Also, a special shout out to majsmom on Tumblr for sparking this idea in a conversation with escapewithstories.

Before you start reading though, we have a quick request. Please do not engage the guest reviewer who attacked my previous story. While the support is beyond appreciated, and quite humbling, engaging her only clogs up my review section with unnecessary arguments. I would like this to be my official, and only, response to the GR. And besides, we'd much rather hear what you thought about this story. That you don't appreciate haters, we already know! :)

INTEGRITY

The race for Assistant Chief was currently the bane of her existence. Sharon had said those words in jest to Andy just the other day, but now she truly meant them.

She had enough to manage on a typical day while running Major Crimes, but lately she was dealing with an excess amount of external pressure, more so than usual, all for a position that she did not desire to have. Howard and Mason constantly reminded her to tread lightly because Winnie Davis had it out for her, and Winnie herself kept throwing up roadblocks during their investigations at every opportunity. Some days she thought it was a miracle that they were even able to solve their last few cases in a timely manner.

Then there was her team. Her team full of wonderful people that she adored so much, and a huge part of the reason why she didn't want the promotion. They were not so great at disguising their underlying fear at the thought of Davis becoming Assistant Chief. Everyone knew if that were to happen, the whole department would be restructured, leaving many of them without a place to go. The squad was relying on her to prevent that from happening and she didn't think it was a sacrifice she wanted to make.

For the most part, other than the initial announcement that she was one of the contenders and a reminder that there would be a formal interview to prepare for in the near future, Chief Pope had left her be, and allowed her to do her job as needed. Until now.

She had heard the phone in her office ringing, but she chose to ignore it while she continued doling out orders to the squad on their next moves. They had just gained a fresh new lead after results from the lab had come back and needed to quickly act on it. As she spouted off the last command, her cell that she had been holding in her hand started ringing. When she glanced down to see who the caller was, she was a bit surprised to see it was from Chief Pope's office. She was even more surprised upon answering it to hear his voice and not that of his secretary. That surprise quickly turned into aggravation at the brash tone in which he spoke to her, demanding her presence in his office at that very moment, ignoring her protests about the break in their case and her needed assistance.

Her orders were revised and Provenza was left in charge with a reluctant agreement to meet back in the murder room when they returned since she would not be going with them. She had parted ways with them on the ground floor, them heading to their cars and her headed across the street to figure out what could possibly elicit such an urgent summons and couldn't be dealt with over the phone. She presumed it had to do with the Assistant Chief business, just as everything did these days, but having no clear indication as to what she was walking into was frustrating to say the least.

Arriving outside Chief Pope's office and being told to take a seat by Pope's secretary only added to her ire. If he was so adamant that she drop everything she had been doing and promptly make her way to his office, she thought the least he could do was be ready to see her when she arrived. Will Pope's arrogance had merely increased since he'd taken up the position of Chief, a fact that did not surprise Sharon in the least. Normally, she was spared from his sense of superiority, only needed to speak personally to him on the rare occasion when Taylor had been out of town or they had a meeting with all department heads. Sharon could say with absolute certainty she did not miss the days of directly reporting to Will Pope.

She glanced down at her watch when she heard the door to his office open, noting she had been waiting fifteen minutes. So much for urgent. The sight of Winnie Davis passing through the door wasn't all that shocking, she was another candidate after all, but the look of disdain the other woman sent her direction had her eyebrows lifting. It went beyond the usual scowl she wore, this felt more personal. The words spewed in her face when they were within steps of each other confirmed her suspicions, although Sharon was still left utterly confused as to the reason why.

"You just had to make it personal, didn't you?"

"Excuse me?"

Clarification was no sooner in coming because whatever response that Winnie had lined up was thwarted by their superior.

"Captain," the bark came from just inside the door, seconds before Will Pope's face, red with indignation, came into view, "in my office." His tone hardered further as he added, "Now."

Sharon ignored the smug look of satisfaction on Winnie's face as she followed Pope into his office. He stalked directly to the chair behind his desk and fell heavily into it. She stood on the opposite side of his desk, waiting for him to indicate whether she should remain standing or take a seat as well, but no such direction ever came. Sensing by the way he glowered at her that this was going to be more than a brief discussion, she took it upon herself to lower down into one of the two chairs across from him.

Chief Pope made no move to start the discussion, he merely continued to sit rigidly with his forearms braced against the desktop and his hands clasped tightly together in front him. He just stared at her, expectantly, as though Sharon was the one that had requested his presence, not the other way around. She was not in the mood to play whatever game he was at, so in response, she rested back in the chair, delicately crossing one leg over the other, then simply raised a brow at him, indicating that she was waiting for him to shed some light on what this impromptu meeting was concerning.

When he did finally speak, it was with that superior tone he often used. "I received a call from a reporter this morning," his gaze flickered to the phone sitting near one of the corners of his desk, "asking if a known gambling addict really is a wise choice to be among one of the top candidates for the Assistant Chief position.

Sharon had imagined several different scenarios as to why this meeting was called. Pope's behavior had her suspecting that there was a complaint and Winnie Davis's presence shortly before the meeting had almost confirmed that suspicion for her. However, she could say without a doubt, this definitely was not the complaint she had expected. When the words gambling addict are mentioned, her first thoughts are of her ex-husband, but she failed to see how his, even their, history related to the run for Assistant Chief. Furthermore, Pope had said one of the candidates was the known gambling addict, not a former spouse. Perhaps the reporter had been confused about the facts and it needed clarifying? That still wouldn't explain why such an allegation would elicit such a response form the Chief or why Winnie Davis had all but attacked her outside the office moments ago.

Her internal rumination was interrupted by an impatient, "Do you care to explain?"

"Explain?" Sharon asked, confused. The underlying accusatory note in his voice had the small hairs on the back of her neck rising; she was quickly realizing that he suspected her of some wrongdoing and wanted her to confess. "Exactly what are you insinuating here, Chief?"

"Winnie Davis says there are very few people that know about her history as an addict, but that you happen to be one of them. And," Pope emphasized the word, needlessly assuring he had her attention, "that you've made no effort to hide your disapproval about her being one of the top candidates. She thinks that you leaked this information so that she would be knocked out of the running."

"Hmmm," Sharon pressed her lips firmly together, until they became a single thin line. "I see." Although she didn't.

Her gaze turned to look out one of the two large sets of windows in his office so she could gather her thoughts and decide how best to respond to the egregious accusations. Her first musing was about the milder allegation regarding her apparent poor behavior concerning Winnie Davis's candidacy. She thought perhaps Winnie was projecting her own personal feelings about the issue because Sharon was certain she had displayed nothing but respect for her peer during their encounters and she knew for a fact she had not said anything that could give the other woman any reason to make such recriminations. However, she was going to let that one slide; she didn't want to get caught up in some petty blaming game of she said/she said. Besides, it was a frivolous claim and it rankled far less than the latter.

"Let me get this straight." Sharon turned to face him again and pinned him with a look that would make a smarter man cower. "You're accusing me of compromising my career, my oath as an officer, my reputation…" she shook her head in disbelief, "a reputation that I spent years cultivating," her eyes narrowed on him as she scooted forward in her seat, "a reputation that you took advantage of for public perception when you put me in charge of Major Crimes," she ignored the sneer he gave her, "all for what?"

Sharon intended the question to be rhetorical because any response would be asinine, but Pope still said, "To increase your chances of getting the position of Assistant Chief."

An abrupt, mirthless huff shook her upper body. There was contempt in her gaze when she said, "You mean for a position that I'm not even sure I want."

The Chief managed to look both irritated and impressed that she would openly confess such a thought. Nevertheless, irritation won out. Her admission cost him his upper-hand and the heavy pause that followed indicated that he was scrambling for a different tactic of approach. "So you're not denying that you know about Deputy Chief Davis's past?"

Sharon fought hard not to roll her eyes. He spoke as if she had intimate knowledge of her colleague's life, not the small snippets of details from a case almost twenty years ago that would barely provide more than speculation. She was not going to be goaded, however, by his poor attempt to get her to become defensive.

"I have no reason to deny it," she said levelly.

Pope's smirk was far too cocky for a response that fell far too short of the admission he was seeking. "And you're telling me you didn't use this information for personal gain?"

"The fact that you would even give credence to these claims that disparage my character is insulting enough, Chief, but that you are actually sitting here…" Sharon cut herself off before her ire could get the best of her. "No," she spoke slowly and deliberately, not wanting there to be any confusion, "I have never used what knowledge I may have obtained as an IA Officer to further advance my career."

Pope collapsed back in his chair, almost defeated. The long sigh he exhaled suggested he had expected this answer and it left Sharon once again wondering why he would insult both of their intelligence by calling her into his office in the first place. Why he had even engaged her in this fruitless game of trying to catch her in some trap. It was a complete waste of both their time. He had a tendency to lose sight of things when his own image was threatened and she didn't feel sorry for him in the least when he almost desperately asked, "How the hell did this reporter get this information then?"

Her thumbs twiddled together in her lap as she contemplated whether or not she should respond with some diplomatic response, or if she should just be frank with her superior. She was never one to beat around the bush, so why start now?

"If I may say so, in my recent experience with Deputy Chief Davis," due to years of practiced fortitude, there was not a single hint of the aggravation she felt evident in her tone, "it seems she has no problem stepping on toes to get what she wants or to simply make a point." She smoothed over a non-existent crease in her pant leg before adding, "I have a feeling this is not a recent character development of hers, and that she may have made more enemies than friends throughout her career."

"It would take a lot of digging to come up with this information though, and Winnie Davis kept it under wraps quite well." He genuinely seemed surprised when he added, "I wasn't even aware until this morning."

"Yes," Sharon conceded the point, but went on to add one of her own. "However, given the right motivation..."

Pope took advantage of her measured pause to insert his own argument. "But no one else gains anything be leaking it."

Sharon was momentarily struck numb by the insinuation that she would be the only person to benefit from the public disgrace of Winnie Davis, and that once again he believed she would take part in such a scheme. It had her wondering if Mason or Howard had or would face similar interrogations regarding the matter. She had her suspicions that would not be the case. Winnie had only pointed a finger at her, and Pope made it seem as though the other two men had already been cleared of any wrongdoing.

"True, I along with Commander Mason, Deputy Chief Howard," she paused momentarily to let her veiled message sink in and the constricted glare she was given in response said it was received, "may be the only ones that could directly gain from this information leak, but several departments would also benefit if Winnie Davis did not move up in the ranks."

It was no secret that Winnie had big plans to completely rearrange and shuffle the departments, she had said so herself on more than one occasion, and it was clear by his frustrated, "We'd be looking for a needle in a haystack," that Pope had been paying enough attention to catch the rampant grumblings from the rumor mill.

She could understand that frustration, but it was pointless to dwell on. It didn't sit right with her that a fellow officer would sell out another, but it happened more often than they like to admit. However, they were only truly successful if the end result they were seeking was obtained, and as far as she knew, that had yet to happen. Or had it?

"None of this matters, Chief, unless you actually intend on removing Winnie Davis from the running because of this." His non-answer and refusal to meet her eyes was telling enough, and even though she abhorred the idea of Winnie in the position almost as much as the idea of herself taking it, Sharon found herself becoming defensive on the other woman's behalf. "Why does something that occurred so long ago have any bearing on whether or not she is suitable for the job? It's never once affected her ability to do her job."

"Because now the press has the information!" Pope's fist came down strongly on the table, but Sharon didn't so much as flinch.

Of course. He'd rather feed Winnie to the wolves than defend her impeccable record as an officer.

"And what about Chief Howard?" She was almost hesitant to bring it up, but it was a question worth asking. "He's an alcoholic that has also had his addiction under control for several years, yet he's one of the candidates. Are you going to remove him from the running as well?"

The look he gave her said 'don't be naive', but his mouth said, "You and I both know that as former FBI he was never going to be seriously considered for the position."

So that was a no. He would remain because it's easier, cleaner really, to just leave him where he is, but that still begged the question, "What if he wasn't former FBI and was being seriously considered? Would his status as an addict be factored into that decision as is now being done with Winnie Davis?"

"I don't know," his voice raised, more than exasperated by the line of questioning, then returned to a normal, indoor level when he, rather unconvincingly, added, "Probably." His shoulders rose and fell in a dismissive manner. "I can't attest to a hypothetical situation."

Sharon did allow her eyes to roll at that. They worked in hypotheticals on a daily basis. When you took it down to the basics, it wasn't hypothetical at all. Two candidates, up for the same promotion, had similar backgrounds, but only one was being punished. The reason was suddenly very clear as to why. "Is it because she's a woman? You're not willing to make the same allowances for her as you would a man?"

There was a concealed threat of severe consequences if she continued to push, revealed only by the venom in his tone and expression as he said, "Don't even think about bringing sexism into this situation, I already have enough to deal with."

Ah, so there it was. The double standard. Sharon wanted to rail at the idea of Fritz Howard remaining a 'contender' and not being removed in the same right as Winnie Davis, but bringing down a fellow officer to prove a point was not her style. She was walking on thin ice as it was simply by pointing out the obvious. Howard didn't deserve the scrutinization anymore than Winnie did. It would be a futile action, nonetheless, because Will Pope would still fail, most likely refuse, to see his own hypocrisy, so she remained mute on that point.

Taking her silence for what it was, Pope pushed further. "Why does it even matter to you? It's my understanding that you detest the idea of her in the position just as much as anyone else."

For a brief moment, Sharon wondered if there was actually any proof of her disapproval, or if he was grasping at straws. She had been extra cautious to remain neutral in all discussions regarding Winnie Davis. There may have been a few less favorable comments, but they were made in the privacy of her own home and she knew better than to think Andy or even Rusty had repeated them. Pope had to be making assumptions based on false or misleading information. She wouldn't be surprised if that information came from Winnie herself during the discussion just prior to this one.

Still, she pushed forward on her colleague's behalf because it was the right thing to do. "This isn't about my personal feelings," there was no point in denying it, she decided, even if he was working based off assumptions, "it's about what is right, and it appears that Deputy Chief Davis is being treated unfairly in this situation."

"Look, Captain," Will Pope's smile was a nauseating mixture of derision and patronization, "I don't have time to debate with you about the fairness of life. Right now," he began shuffling through the few papers that were scattered across his desktop, "I have some fires to put out in hopes that this doesn't make the front page of tomorrow's paper."

Sharon remained seating for a moment longer, deliberating whether or not she really wanted to push the issue, but she understood when she was fighting a losing battle. She had fought many such battles throughout the course of her career, and although some were successful, this one most certainly would not be. Chief Pope cared more about his status and image than he did about doing what was right. It was true she didn't believe that Winnie Davis was the right person to be the new Assistant Chief, but she also believed that Winnie deserved the chance to be considered in the same good faith as the rest of them. For her to be pushed aside because certain people weren't willing to offer her the same latitude they would a man in a similar situation...well, it was an all too familiar scenario.

"Good day, Chief," she said tersely as she finally rose from the chair.

If she were a different woman, she might have slammed the door on her way out, but as always, she kept her emotions in check. She didn't think that she could leave the office angrier than when she arrived, yet she thought her blood just might be close to boiling under her skin at the moment. Vying for a job that she didn't particularly want, battling with a colleague that had decided she was the biggest threat standing in the way of getting that job, and now defending that same colleague despite the way she was attacked at any available opportunity—Sharon was exhausted and just plain furious.

And her day wasn't about to get any less infuriating.

…

There was a time when only Sharon's appearance in the murder room would envelop the team in as an antagonistic silence as just then, but as of late, Deputy Chief Winnie Davis would have given her past self a run for her money. Sharon would be struck silent for a moment as well, but unlike her far too passionate team, she would quickly remember her manners and offer a greeting that only her closest colleagues recognized as forcedly polite and welcoming.

"Good evening, Chief." Perhaps on that particular day her displeasure was a tad more obvious than usual, most likely fueled by the still fresh impression of her morning meeting with Pope and especially since they were just about to go over their case once more, but it was too late to take the tone back.

The younger woman's determined stride did not falter for even a second. A near thunderous look on her face, she didn't bother with niceties either, but sliced the air with a digit, pointing it at Sharon's office. "Captain Raydor," Sharon's eyes instantly narrowed at the condescending tone, "your office," she jerked her finger again, "now."

A lesser woman than Sharon might have stomped her foot and groaned, and it was definitely on the tip of her tongue to wonder out loud what it was about that day that compelled people to order her into offices so disrespectfully. At the same time, however, she felt, rather than saw, the team stiffen, every single one of them straightening in their respective chairs and glaring at Winnie. That, thankfully, had her clamp down on her rising temper, and she focused on preempting any ill-advised commentary from them. She'd learned that her second in command didn't exactly mind indulging the team in badmouthing Winnie Davis on occasions such as these, so she discreetly offered him a look, warning him to keep everyone in check while she heeded the Deputy Chief's rude command.

When he rolled his eyes in the closest 'Yes, Captain' she would get, Sharon finally moved to follow the woman, who had by then already reached her office and was positively vibrating with impatience. "I do believe you all have work to do," she said pointedly, purposefully staring at her uninvited guest, "this shouldn't take too long."

As she passed Andy's desk, she nearly rolled her eyes at his concentrated effort of staring down Winnie through the open office door, and he only frowned when she closed the door behind herself and cut off his unhindered view inside.

"Captain," Winnie immediately pounced on her, even though Sharon took her time to draw shut the blinds on the right of the door, cracking a smile when she saw Andy craning his neck to catch a glimpse into the office, "what exactly did you tell Chief Pope?"

Schooling her features, Sharon turned around, raising her eyebrow ever so slightly as she responded as matter-of-factly as she could, "The truth."

Commotion between Provenza and Andy interrupted and drew both Winnie and Sharon's attention to her other set of blinds. In an attempt to drown out what looked like their usual bickering, no doubt regarding her current meeting, she walked over to close those as well. Winnie watched all of this, then said, "A truth I see you'd like to keep from your precious followers out there." The words caused Sharon to involuntary yank the blinds shut with just a tad more violence than she liked. Her tolerance of insults to her integrity as not just a police officer, but as a human being, was steadily running thin, and it finally vanished when she faced Winnie again, just as she added, a superior smile on her lips, "Wouldn't want them to know you're not as straight-laced as you'd like them to believe, huh?"

Sharon knew very much what Winnie was implying, but she wanted to hear it straight from the horse's mouth before getting into anything even resembling an argument with her. Rounding the woman, who remained standing quite imposingly in the middle of her office as if she owned the place, Sharon went to her desk to take a seat, and on her way asked, "What exactly are you trying to say, Chief?"

The Chief folded her arms, leveling Sharon with an unimpressed stare. In lieu of an answer, she said, "It's below even you to take cheap shots like these."

Sharon made herself comfortable, folding her hands neatly on her desktop. She quirked an eyebrow, purposefully playing obtuse. "Cheap shots?"

"Oh, drop the act," Winnie suddenly uncrossed her arms and leaned against the two chairs in front of Sharon's desk, "only you knew about my history, and only you stand to gain something by making it public knowledge."

Sharon was momentarily rendered mute with incredulity. She was caught between wanting to feel sorry for the woman and wanting to slap her for being so naive as to honestly believe that Mason and Howard would have no motive to go to the reporters if they dug up 'dirt' on her. Not to mention the fact that there were plenty of other IA officers still around who were also privy to her carefully guarded secret. "Well," she finally said, leaning back in her chair and dropping her hands to her lap, "I hate to disappoint," her voice dripped with sarcasm, "but your accusations are misdirected. I prefer to fight my battles by the book." For good measure, she added, her words verging on haughtiness, "It's worked out rather well for me the past few decades, too."

For a second, Winnie looked like she swallowed a particularly sour pill. "So," her fingers finally twitched against the backrests of Sharon's chairs, "you want me to believe you did not leak that story to the press?"

Sharon shook her head, the deliberate pause that followed causing indignation to flitter across Winnie's features, before she elaborated, rather flippantly. "I don't care what you believe," she took almost sinful pleasure in the outraged expression her response put on Winnie's face, "but no, I did not leak anything to the press."

Winnie continued to glare at her for a few long moments, before she finally pushed off the chairs and straightened. She struck her arms out incredulously. "Who the hell told them then?"

Sharon doubted Winnie even wanted to say the question out loud, much less actually hear her answer, so Sharon ignored it. Instead, she leaned against her desk again, and posed a question of her own. "If you don't mind my asking," Sharon waved a hand placatangly at her, "have you spoken to the Chief since this morning?"

The scalding look she was graced with, let Sharon know she very much minded the question. Still, Winnie answered, albeit begrudgingly. "He's been ducking my calls all day."

Sharon frowned, some of the ire she felt that morning returning. She wasn't naive, she knew better than to expect Chief Pope to actually follow her advice, but she hoped she had managed to appeal to his self-absorbed side, and that he would not dare even risk facing backlash if it ever came out how many high (or low) ranking officers across the department had battled some addiction or another and still remained employed. Then again, regardless of whether she did succeed in appealing to his sense of self-preservation or not, he was most likely too busy fielding any more journalistic inquiries to return anyone's, even Winnie's, calls. The fear that her words were futile only annoyed her further, but short of causing a scandal herself, her hands were tied and there was nothing more she could do to change the Chief's mind.

"No doubt thanks to you," Winnie's words drew Sharon's attention back to her and she noted the sneer on her face, "taking the opportunity to finally get rid of me."

Sharon absolutely detested the continued accusation, but in that moment she felt more puzzled, and even a tad concerned, than truly angry. She shuffled in her chair, pushing herself slightly further underneath her desk, and pinned the combative Deputy with a hard, inquisitive look, her words cautious. "Assuming you still have a handle on your gambling problem-"

Winnie instantly grew defensive, folding her arms across her chest again to cut Sharon off. "Of course I do!" She scoffed. "It's been more than a decade!"

This was, in fact, news to Sharon, having calculated Winnie's sobriety to have been maintained for nearly two decades. She hid her surprise under a careful mask of indifference, focusing instead on the fact that even a slip had not had an impact on her performance on the job, and let the slight worry that perhaps there was more to Winnie's explosive reaction in the matter than she was aware of ebb away. "Then I don't see how that should have any bearing on your ability to succeed Chief Taylor. Just like it doesn't have any on Chief Howard's." She paused, fully relaxing before adding, "I told Chief Pope as much, too."

Winnie took a breath to instinctively say something no doubt biting, then abruptly closed her mouth when she processed Sharon's words.

Sharon allowed a small, self-satisfied smile to quirk her lips, and waited patiently for the woman to find her wits again.

"Why?" she finally asked, sounding genuinely curious.

Sharon's brow creased. Why did she not jump at the opportunity to get rid of the woman? Why did she go as far as to defend her in front of the Chief of Police? Why was the Chief of Police still ignoring her calls? Sharon wasn't sure what Winnie's 'Why?' meant, so she shrugged and said, "I take no issue with you as long as I can trust you to do the job well." That it was the lack of that trust that kept her from pulling out of the race as of yet, Sharon wisely kept to herself. "I cannot, however, say that it's your abilities the Chief's worried about right now," she added pointedly.

Winnie made a quiet 'humph' sound, her shoulders sagging and her folded arms relaxing. Anyone with at least a shred of decency would have thanked Sharon for her assistance, apologized for the false accusations, but not Winnie. She was still much too worried about her standing in the race, and asked bluntly, "So you're confident he won't risk exposing himself as a hypocrite down the road?"

Sharon did not feel the need to offer the woman a peace of mind, or to soften the blow of the news that Winnie was most likely now indeed out of the race no matter what. When the Chief finally did tell her his decision, she also knew the woman to be spiteful enough to look for a way to retaliate. Sharon herself certainly believed there to be enough cause for legal action, and soon enough Winnie was bound to draw the same conclusions. At the same time, however, she did not appreciate Winnie's brusque way of posing her question. Sharon, too, might not always see eye to eye with Pope, she might consider him hypocritical as well, but unlike Winnie, she had the good sense to keep her overt disrespect to a minimum. So she remained tight-lipped, allowing herself a bit of pettiness in the matter. "I'm afraid," she really wasn't, and any sympathy her voice might have carried was utterly fake, "you'll find out once the Chief returns your calls."

Despite being the one who had summoned this unplanned meeting, Winnie recognized Sharon's veiled dismissal. Judging by her sarcastic, "I guess I will," Sharon's reticence to be more forthcoming did not go unnoticed either. She adjusted her blazer in a display of ending the conversation herself, then made for the door. Her hand lingering on the door knob, she finally did remember to thank Sharon, however, not quite in the way Sharon would have considered deserving. "I should be grateful, shouldn't I," the question was rhetorical and certainly lacked the mentioned gratitude, "that you seem to have a soft spot for recovering addicts?"

Caught off guard by what could truly be considered a cheap shot, Sharon's eyes momentarily widened in shock before she glared at Winnie. "Goodbye, Chief Davis," she managed to say through gritted teeth, hating the smug smile her unconstrained reaction put on the other woman's face.

When she finally opened the door, Winnie was met with the recovering addict in question, whose head whipped around at the sound. She smiled disturbingly sweetly, and instead of bidding Sharon a goodbye, offered Andy one. "Have a nice evening, Lieutenant," she told him, closing the door no doubt in an effort to agitate both him and Sharon further, then walked through the murder room on her way out, wishing them an insincere good luck on their case.

Sharon, however, exhaled a sigh of relief when the door closed. If she had been furious earlier, after her meeting with Pope, she was positively livid now, and the last thing she needed was the team pouncing on her with curious questions. She decided to refocus on their case in quiet before rejoining the team out in the murder room, but unable to contain her lingering rage, she yanked at the case file lodged underneath her laptop with a violent jerk of her hand, causing the laptop to drop back down on the desk with a grimace inducing thud. As she finally opened her copy of the folder, she succumbed to the urge to vent. Rolling her eyes and making her voice nauseatingly sweet, too, she muttered, "Have a nice evening, Lieutenant," then finally started flipping through the papers.

…

The next day had been a slow one and the team had spent most of it catching up on paperwork following the case they had closed the previous day. Everyone was doing so that is, except Provenza.

He was in the middle of scratching his chin with the tip of his pen as he tried to figure out an answer in his crossword puzzle. For several minutes he was staring intently at the empty squares of his newspaper, his brow furrowed more in annoyance over not being able to come up with a solution than in deep concentration. Eventually, he gave up on a huff, licked a couple of fingers and started flipping the pages in short, jerked movements, searching for the keys at the very end.

"Oooh," he suddenly mumbled, his voice thinning with a tinge of surprise.

He only drew Amy's attention, who looked up from her case file with eyebrows raised. "Your puzzle giving you a hard time today, Lieutenant?" she teased, barely suppressing a snicker.

His head snapped up to look at her, a confused frown on his face for a moment before he registered her words, and unimpressed, lowered his brow in order to glare at her. "Oh, no," he told her, but there was no usual annoyance that accompanied his words after such glares. Instead, his tone was laced with glee, even as it carried a slightly ominous note, and that finally caught the attention of the rest of the squad, who all looked at him with piqued interest until he continued, smiling rather smugly. "But I do believe I solved another puzzle." As if that would be enough of an elaboration, he tapped his pen against the page that had interrupted his crossword.

"What other puzzle?" Andy asked, confused.

"The Winnie Davis puzzle," Provenza answered, rubbing his hands together in delight as he eyed his newspaper.

Julio straightened in his seat a little, craning his neck to try to take a peek at Provenza's article. Failing to see much of anything, he slumped back in his seat and asked, a mixture of both hope and trepidation in his voice. "She made the news?"

"She sure did," Provenza confirmed, picking up the paper, making a show out of spreading it fully open as he leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his desk. He took a quick breath, then read aloud, "Assistant Chief of Police Candidate's Gambling Problem," he paused, smirking when he noted the wide-eyed and expectant looks on his colleagues' faces, then proceeded to read the rest of the title, "Is Pope Turning a Blind Eye?"

"So," Amy let out slowly, exasperation filtering across her features, "that's what had Winnie so riled up this time."

"Does that mean she's out of the running?" Buzz asked hopefully, but Provenza had his nose buried in the article as he read it through and didn't reply.

Julio didn't seem to need an answer, but merely grinned. "The Captain is sooo," his tone dipped low,"getting this job."

"Well," Mike started hesitantly, fiddling with his glasses contemplatively, "is she a recovering gambling addict or…?"

Even though Mike looked to Provenza for answers, the older man took his time getting to the end of the article. Only then did he drop his feet to the floor and turn to face his coworkers again. He folded the newspaper, clearly having no intention of actually sharing it with anyone and said, a bit begrudgingly, "Recovering."

"So what?" Amy asked a bit naively. "No way anyone's gonna trust their safety in the hands of a gambler, right?" Even as she finished her question, the initial hopeful tone seeped out of it, and the countering question Mike posed only cemented her delayed understanding, making her shoulders sag in disappointment.

"You trust Andy," he pointed a hand at the lieutenant in question, not noticing that he didn't seem too vested in their conversation, "and Howard, right?"

Provenza waved them both off. "It won't get her any points in the running, that's for sure. Plus, they're ripping into the Pope himself here," he flicked a finger across the newspaper, "rather than attacking Winnie. I wouldn't put it past him to kick her out just to save face." He suddenly grinned, and a dreamy, slightly distant note entered his next words. "Oh, he probably had a stroke when he found out."

Everyone but Andy chuckled, and his silence drew his partner's attention who picked up the newspaper and waved it at him. "You knew, didn't you?" Usually, he was more than happy not knowing what his partner and his boss discussed in the privacy of their home, but this obviously trumped his need to preserve his sanity.

"Huh?" Andy's head snapped up to look at him—clearly he wasn't paying attention. "What?" Provenza's question finally reached his brain and he shook his head. "No, I had no idea."

Provenza lowered the paper, narrowing his eyes in a sarcastic, unvoiced 'Sure.'

"As if the Captain didn't tell you that's what that meeting was about," Julio added on a scoff, obviously agreeing with Provenza.

Not waiting for a response, Nolan chipped in on the conversation. "And let's not forget Winnie Davis storming in here yesterday." He shot Andy a narrow-eyed look. "Surely you knew something about that at least."

Again, not even pausing for a reply from Andy, Provenza piled on Nolan's words, sounding both suspicious and confused. "What was that about anyway?" He waved his pen at Sharon's office, alluding to what Nolan just mentioned. "Why go off on the Captain like that? It's not like the Pope listens to anyone, and she of all people has the least pull with him." His eyes suddenly went wide and his mouth spread into a wide smile. "Unless…" he trailed off, then let out a victorious laugh.

Buzz finished his thought. "Unless Winnie really is out of the running now?"

The words were directed at Andy, and all heads turned to him as well. Apparently he, as their inside source, ought to be able to confirm or deny this, but when Andy didn't seem to have been even listening to them, Provenza snapped at him with a barked out, "Flynn!"

Andy startled. "What?" he matched his partner's tone.

A slight thud followed when Provenza's hand landed on his desk. "Is Davis out of the running or not?" he asked, now very impatient.

Andy drew his shoulders together, his voice going up a notch. "How should I know?"

The stares and tilted heads that met his answer all but screamed 'You're sleeping with the boss, that's how,' not that anyone would dare put it quite so bluntly.

Andy rolled his eyes at them, then clutched the edges of his desk, tucking his chair underneath it again—he was about to finish this discussion. "What's going on is," his voice was slightly strained as he forced it down to a more appropriate pitch, "that the Captain's gonna fill you all in when she decides there's something to fill you in on in the first place."

This only tested Provenza's patience more. "Oh," his tone was sarcastic, and he rolled his own eyes in exaggeration, putting up air quotation marks, "it's the Captain again." He straightened in his chair, and waved his pen at Andy's side, but grew a tad more serious. "Okay, maybe you don't know if Pope kicked Davis out of the running, but," he waved his pen one more time, accusingly now, "you know something."

In one violent movement Andy whirled around in his chair and glared at Provenza. "Yeah," he bit out, "I do know something, but if the Captain," this time he used her rank purposefully just to irk his partner some more, "didn't think to share it with you, then you can rest assured I won't either." That he only just then figured out that 'something', Andy decided to keep to himself.

Provenza scowled at him, and neither he nor Andy noticed the looks exchanged among their colleagues, both slightly concerned and amused. He opened his mouth to say something, but the words came out with a slight delay, as if halfway through forming them he changed them. "You were a lot more useful before all this," he pulled a disgusted grimace, and waved his hand between Andy and Sharon's empty office, "dating business."

"Ha!" Mike let out, then quickly snapped his mouth shut when Andy slapped him with a glare that even Provenza rarely earned, but that only set off the rest of the squad's laughter.

Over their amusement, Andy directed his ire back at Provenza. "You wanna know what's going on," he struck a hand out to his left at Sharon's office, "go ahead and ask her yourself!" He then turned to face his desk again, and added in a low mutter, "And stop pestering me."

Provenza leaned heavily into the back of his chair, grabbing the newspaper in search of his crossword puzzle again. "Well, I would," he said petulantly, "but she's not here, is she?"

"Who's not here?"

Provenza nearly tipped his chair over at the sound of the woman that was the topic of their conversation, but he managed to latch onto the edge of his desk just in time, and straightened. He caught Andy's smug, challenging smile from across the room as he turned his head to look at her, and suppressing an eyeroll, quickly mumbled, "Nobody."

Julio half snorted, half coughed, and murmured under his breath, "Nice save, Sir."

Sharon's eyebrows shot up for a moment, before drawing together into a slightly confused frown, her confusion only growing over the shaking shoulders and amused expressions of everyone but Provenza. She drew a breath, with the initial intention of asking what on earth they were up to, but when she picked up on Andy's mischievous smirk, it didn't take a genius to guess it had something to do with her. Instead, she tapped her watch. "Good. How about we call it a day then, and you," she eyed Provenza, mirth dancing in her eyes, figuring she might have a little fun with him even if she could only suspect what exactly was going on, "can go look for that 'nobody'?"

At Provenza's offended sputtering and the team's now unabashed laughter, she pressed her lips into a tight line, only barely swallowing down a laugh of her own, then walked toward her office. Unfortunately, she caught Andy's gaze and her voice shook with suppressed laughter as she told him, "Just give me five minutes, and I'll be right with you."

He nodded, but didn't spare her even a glance, as he grinned openly at his partner, an amused, "Sure," on his lips.

Once she reached her desk, Sharon began sorting through the somewhat organized file stacks in and around her desk. She had been interrupted so much over the last couple of days that she had fallen a bit behind on her paperwork. The meeting with Pope and subsequent visit from Winnie Davis weren't the last of the disruptions. The article in the paper had prompted another meeting with Will Pope earlier that morning, this time with all of the candidates in attendance, informing them how they should respond if approached by the media; as if they didn't know how already. Commander Mason had also stopped by for a 'friendly chat' later in the afternoon, still attempting to persuade her to snag the Assistant Chief position despite Winnie Davis no longer being a potential threat for either of their divisions.

So now, in addition to the paperwork for their recently closed case, she also had a budget report to complete and time cards to fill out. Her plans of having a relaxing evening at home with Andy, and Rusty if he had no other plans, now included half of that time being spent doing paperwork.

"Hey," Andy's voice followed in quick succession of the two rapid knocks he placed on the door frame to alert her to his presence, "if I'm going to make my meeting, I should probably be heading out in the next couple of minutes."

Sharon's face fell, her gaze shortly behind it, embarrassed by the fact that she'd been so preoccupied with everything else going on that she'd forgotten it was Thursday and they had driven into separately so Andy could head straight to his meeting from the PAB. Her relaxing evening was looking even less appealing with him being gone for part of it.

"You okay?" he asked, noticing the sudden downturn in her mood.

When she didn't immediately answer, he moved to join her behind her desk and a comforting hand slid beneath her hair to gently massage her neck as he waited patiently for her response.

"Hmm," Sharon leaned back into his touch, "this day just got away from me."

"Understandable." Andy found a particularly tense knot of muscles and dug his thumb in. He chuckled when an uncharacteristic grunt of satisfaction escaped her throat. "How 'bout I pick up dinner on my way home?"

Sharon's nose inadvertently scrunched at the thought of having take-out a fourth night in a row, and with their quiet moment now ruined, she begrudgingly side-stepped away from his touch. It had just been one of those weeks where the thought of going home and having to cook was simply too exhausting for both of them. Right now it was still fairly early and she was feeling pretty good, but she knew a fraction of the way through her mountain of paperwork that would change. That in combination with Andy having a meeting and also knowing they had nothing in the refrigerator so a grocery store run would be required, had her reluctantly agreeing that picking dinner up was the easiest and most logical decision.

"That will be fine."

"I can stop by that little cafe you like," he said with a coaxing lilt to his tone and she could tell he was attempting to sweeten the prospect for her.

It was cute the way he tried and she managed to give him a small, grateful smile. "Sounds good."

"Erm," he carefully scanned over her unusually cluttered desktop, "you almost ready so I can at least walk you to your car?"

"Actually," she pulled the one file she had managed to stow in her purse back out and dropped it to her desk with a thwack, "I think I will just stay here and finish all of this. I'd rather not carry it all home if I don't have to."

"You sure?" The 'you'd be more comfortable at home' was implied.

"Yes, Andy." His name only carried a tinge of exasperation. "I'll just meet you at home." She ran a hand down his tie, giving the end a tug when she reached it. "Text me when you're on your way?" At his single nod reply she raised up on her toes and quickly pecked his lips. "Now go so you won't be late."

Andy's grin was beyond goofy. He loved when she pushed the boundaries of their predetermined rules about displays of affection in the office. Because she started it and he was never one to pass up an opportunity, before she could give him another nudge towards the door, his head dipped and he chastely kissed her one more time. The purse of her lips when he stood back up said he was pushing his luck, but he simply winked at her as he backed out towards the door. Sharon maintained eye contact with him until he turned around just as he crossed the threshold of her office before she finally sat down and opened the first folder.

When Andy texted to let her know he was headed to the condo, Sharon had only one file left and ended up staying twenty minutes longer so she could have it all finished before she walked in the door of her condo. She was pleasantly surprised when she did walk through that door to have her nostrils inundated by the aromas of food permeating the air. It was stronger than any take-out could ever be and certainly not the sandwiches Andy was supposed to have picked up from the cafe, which could only mean he was cooking their dinner instead. She thought she had done a better job of disguising her reluctance regarding their plans, or perhaps Andy had been dreading another meal out of a to-go box just as much as she was (or maybe a little bit of both), but she suspected it was mostly the former that had him change his mind, and god, if she didn't love him all the more for it.

Sharon inhaled deeply as she discarded her jacket in purse to their respective places, reveling in the comforting scents that only a home-cooked meal could provide, and when she exhaled, she expelled most of the frustration she had been feeling over the last two days. Instead of making her way to the kitchen, she walked down the hall toward their bedroom, hoping that removing her work attire would also rid the last remnants of the stressful couple of days. When she did arrive in the kitchen, she was pleased to find that Andy had done much the same before he started on their dinner. It appeared as though she might get that relaxing evening she had hoped for after all.

He had his back to her while he washed the few dishes he had dirtied thus far, but she could tell he knew she was present by the slight tilting of his head in her direction. The idea to simply stand there and watch him work was an appealing one, nevertheless, she didn't like the idea of remaining idle while he worked.

Walking up to him, Sharon slid her hand up his back until it rested on one shoulder and her chin perched on the other. She had to rise slightly on her tiptoes to reach, but she placed a light kiss to the exposed skin just above his collar and murmured, "This doesn't look like the take-out we agreed upon."

Andy grinned crookedly at the playful challenge in her tone, and it widened to a full smile when he felt more than heard her take a deep inhale of his scent. He quickly rinsed off the cutting board he had been washing and dried his hands before turning to loosely wrap his arms around her waist.

"You didn't seem too thrilled about that take-out, even if it was salad and sandwiches," he couldn't resist leaning down and kissing her smiling mouth, "so I made an executive decision."

Sharon slid her hands up his arms and squeezed his biceps in appreciation. "You're right, I wasn't." Her fingers fiddled with the sleeve of his undershirt that she could feel just beneath the light sweater he wore. "I'm surprised you were able to stop by the store and get dinner going before I arrived. I didn't think I was running that late."

It was the closest she would come to prying about one of his meetings. He had asked her once why she never inquired more about his sobriety and AA. She had told him that the moment she inserted herself into the situation, it had the potential of becoming about her and not him. She had made that mistake with Jack in the beginning and that hadn't turned out well. Experience taught her it had to be for him and not her or their family, as it was in Jack's case.

"I didn't stick around afterwards like I usually do, so I had a little extra time."

She could comment on how he shouldn't alter his routine just to please her, but just like she didn't feel like it was her place to question him, it wasn't her place to suggest how to manage. He clearly knew what was best for him and she trusted that would continue to be the case. Instead, her arms slipped around his torso so she could tuck her head under his chin and properly hug him and she simply said, "Thank you."

"My pleasure." Andy kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek against it. "It's just gonna be a little bit longer before we eat," he glanced towards the oven timer, noting there was actually only two minutes left, "not much, but…" A shrug was the last of his statement.

She briefly tightened her hold before releasing him. "I honestly don't mind."

She then looked around and took stock of what else needed to be done. Andy had already pulled out plates and utensils, and all that was needed were glasses and the water pitcher. Just before she closed the refrigerator door, she caught sight of a bottle of wine and took a moment to decide whether she wanted a glass or not. Before she could decide, a hand reached over her shoulder and pulled it out for her.

"Another executive decision?" she asked with a teasing bite to her tone as she twirled around to mock glare at him.

"You could call it that," Andy held the bottle out for her with the flourish that reminded her of Vanna White, "or you could say that I just know how much you enjoy this particular wine with the meal I have prepared for you this evening." His brows bobbed playfully.

Sharon's lips pursed tightly, forcing back the smile that desperately wanted to form. She didn't want to encourage his hubris with a snarky retort of her own, but she also wasn't going to let her own pride prevent her from enjoying a glass, so she took the proffered bottle from his grasp and nudged him out of her way with her shoulder so she could get a wine glass down from the cabinet behind him. He was just about to reach out and pull her back to him, but the timer on the oven went off, no doubt sparing her from the delightful teasing he had in mind.

Dinner tasted far better than she remembered it tasting the previous times Andy had cooked it for her. Rusty had joined them partway through the meal, just long enough to shovel his food in his mouth before disappearing to his room to work. He at least had the decency to say thank you and load his plate in the dishwasher prior to his exit. Andy was uncharacteristically quiet throughout the dinner which was surprising considering the days' events. The previous evening she couldn't get him to drop it despite her insistence it wasn't open for discussion. It killed him not knowing what Pope or Winnie had said, the fact the he hadn't inquired about today's meeting or what Mason had wanted was suspicious to say the least. The way he was squirming in his chair, even more so. Just when she thought she would have to confront his fidgeting, he made his move.

Andy grabbed something from the chair next to him and placed it on the table beside her plate. "Did you know about this?"

For a moment, Sharon was too preoccupied by Andy having organized his plan of 'attack' so thoroughly that he hid a newspaper in the adjacent seat next to his and she didn't immediately register what he had asked. When her mind caught up with everything, she barely spared the paper a glance, already knowing what it was he was referring to.

"Is this why you fixed me dinner?" Sharon asked, ignoring his question because now she was skeptical about his intentions for the evening. "You were hoping to cajole me enough that I would finally answer your questions?"

"What? No! " Andy looked and sounded truly scandalized. "I fixed you dinner because I knew that's what you wanted." There was a brief pause as an impish smirk transformed his features. "But if it helps…"

Sharon believed him when he said he had no ulterior motives, but that didn't prevent her from throwing her cloth napkin at him for his arrogance and hitting him directly in the face. She couldn't help but laugh with him as she stood and gathered up their plates.

"Well?" Andy turned in his chair, draping his arm over the back, so that he could look at her as she walked to the kitchen. "Did you know?" he repeated.

Sharon's response was to cast a glance over her shoulder that all but said she couldn't believe he even had to ask. Of course she knew.

Andy was suddenly behind her, grabbing the freshly rinsed dinner plate from her hands before she could place it in the dishwasher so he could load it himself. "Through Jack or IA?"

'Here we go,' Sharon thought as she breathed out a weary sigh. She didn't think she'd be as successful at deflecting his persistent questions a second night in a row. Especially since the story was out now—for the most part anyways.

"You know I didn't discuss the ins and outs of Jack's meetings with him," Sharon's eyes cut to the side to give him a look, "and you also know better than anyone that they're anonymous."

"Yeah, but the guy has a big mouth," Andy said not to be an ass, just stating a fact.

Sharon conceded his point with a tilting of her head and handed him the other plate.

"So, you learned about it during your time in IA."

"Yes," she answered needlessly, for it wasn't really another question.

Sharon could feel Andy staring at her profile as she washed the last of the few dishes that couldn't be loaded. It was obvious to her that he was thinking something through and she was curious about what exactly had him so contemplative, but she was also dreading the barrage of questions she was sure it would prompt. She finished her task, rinsed out the sink and dried her hands before turning to face him, mirroring his stance as she propped a hip against the counter. She returned his steady gaze and waited for him to fire off the next question.

"Winnie blamed you for the leak to the press and that's why you were summoned to the Vatican yesterday." There was a brief pause before he added, "And also why she came storming into the murder room yesterday demanding to talk to you."

Sharon smiled, impressed. It was not a question she had expected. It wasn't even a question at all, it was a simple statement, and he had hit the nail on the head. Although she really shouldn't be all too surprised he had figured it out. Her refusal to answer his questions the night before meant he had been stewing over everything the entire day and he had come to some conclusions. The right conclusions apparently.

"Yes," she repeated. If he was going to continue reading her mind, this was going to be easier than expected.

Andy's eyes briefly widened, either surprised that she answered or surprised that he was actually right. She could see the wheels turning in his mind as he processed what all her single-word answer encompassed and became mildly concerned when his features settled into a stony expression.

"And Pope actually believed that you of all people would risk jeopardizing your career and reputation for what? For the Assistant Chief job?" He scoffed when she answered him with a small nod, then he picked up the dish towel that was draped over the sink and began vigorously wiping at non-existent water droplets on the counter surrounding it. "What an arrogant prick. He should've known better than to believe you would pull some bullshit stunt like that."

Sharon felt her heart swell to twice its size in that moment. The outrageous accusations thrown at her the last forty-eight hours had really cut deep. Like Andy, she had thought her colleagues would know better, but that did not prove to be the case. Having his unwavering support was a balm to her soul. Not that she was surprised to receive it, defending her was something he'd come to always do no matter the situation, and it was not uncommon for him to be angry on her behalf. Typically, she brushed it off for the chauvinistic display of male pride that it was, but this time she would take comfort in it because for once she believed his frustrations to be founded and it happened to be exactly what she needed to hear.

Halting his therapeutic cleaning of the counters, Sharon turned him to face her with a nudge to his shoulder. He opened his mouth to say something else, but before he go the chance to work himself up some more, she grasped ahold of both sides of his face and pulled his head down towards hers, kissing him soundly on the mouth. "Thank you for saying that."

The anger and tension left his body on an exaggerated exhale. "Well, it's true. I'm not surprised that Winnie Davis would try throwing you under the bus," his nose crinkled at the thought, "that woman would step over her own family if it got her what she wanted, but there's no excuse for Pope."

"His reputation is being called into question." The annoyance in her tone indicated she was not making excuses for the man. "He doesn't think clearly when that happens."

Andy's expression briefly turned thunderous when he responded. "That doesn't make it okay to attack yours." On a side note, and a bit sulky, he added, "He never thinks clearly."

Sharon snorted a laugh as she patted his chest. "I'm inclined to agree." She looked around them at the kitchen, making sure nothing was out of place. "Are we done in here?"

Andy's reply came in the way of quickly moving around the small area to turn out the lights before grabbing her hand and walking in the direction of the living room. He began leading her to the couch, but the thought of their bed was more than appealing at the moment. It was still fairly early for them and she doubted they would fall asleep anytime soon, for Andy was clearly in a chatty mood and she had an inkling that he wasn't ready to drop the topic of conversation quite yet. She didn't expect Rusty would be emerging from his room anytime soon and she didn't feel like turning on the TV, thus she decided they could just as easily finish discussing it lying in bed as they could sitting on the couch. Her abrupt change in direction caused their hands to be tugged apart, but to her relief, he didn't question her, he simply clasped her fingers once again and followed her down the hall. Just as she expected, the moment their door was closed behind them, he picked up the conversation where they left off.

"So, I'm guessing Winnie is out."

"Yes." Sharon immediately moved towards their bathroom, intent on washing her face and knowing Andy would be hot on her heels. "There will be another article tomorrow stating as much. Chief Pope wants to draw as little attention as possible and is avoiding a press conference."

As expected, Andy joined her and closed the second door leading out into the hall. "I'm surprised he's managed to keep it this quiet."

Sharon offered a hum of agreement as she finished pinning back her hair and turned on the faucet.

Andy joined her by the sink and leaned against the wall next to the mirror to watch her. "Is it really even that big of a deal? There are several of us on the force battling one addiction or another, but that hasn't prevented us from being promoted."

Sharon's hands paused their circular scrubbing motions on her face as she casted a glance his way. "Not everyone has attracted the attention of the press."

Andy tossed out his hand in an 'I'll give you that one,' motion. "I suppose that means Howard is out as well."

Sharon couldn't help but smile; he was coming to all the same conclusions she had. "Yes and no," she said cryptically.

"Erm, I'm not following."

There was an extended pause as she took a moment to rinse and dry off her face then unclip her hair.

"As former FBI, he was never really being considered," Sharon gave his ribs an admonishing poke as she spoke because he had uttered the same excuse not long ago, even if she knew he didn't necessarily agree, "but there will be no public declaration of his removal from candidacy. That would only add fuel to the fire."

"That's a load of bullshit." Andy started to exit the bathroom, but stopped at the doorway when he realized how his statement sounded. "Not that I think Howard deserves to be collateral damage, but..."

"Oh," her tone dipped, "I know."

"Hell, I don't like the woman, but that doesn't mean I think her name should be dragged through the mud."

"Hmmm," Sharon picked up their night clothes from the edge of the bed and tossed Andy his. "Especially for something that's essentially a non-issue."

"Well," Andy pulled his sweater over his head, leaving his undershirt on, "it must've been a fairly big issue if IA investigated her."

"That's the thing," Sharon allowed some of her earlier frustration to seep into her tone, "she was never actually investigated." Knowing that she had not always been aware of her colleagues' cases had her adding, "At least not to my knowledge."

"But I thought…." Andy stumbled as he pulled on his pajama bottoms, "huh?"

Sharon giggled lightly at his fumblings, but his mock glare had her turning mostly serious again. She took the time getting her nightgown on to deliberate how much she should divulge to Andy. Technically she wouldn't be disclosing any details of an inquiry into this particular officer's conduct, but the information was still obtained as a result of some investigation. It was a really thin gray area she was standing on. She also trusted that she was speaking to Andy, her significant other, not her Lieutenant, at the moment and it would not be something he would blab about once he returned to work.

Propping her pillows against the headboard, she got comfortable on the bed and waited for Andy to do the same before she continued. "You remember that underground gambling ring that was busted in the late 90s?"

There was no doubt he would remember, it was a highly publicized ordeal. Gambling ring didn't quite cover it. Money laundering, drugs, and prostitution were also among some of the other nefarious deeds occurring under the direction of one of LA's biggest crime bosses. What really made it high profile though was the dozen or so police officers that were arrested as a result of a large IA investigation. Reasons being from taking kickbacks to look the other way, acting as enforcers against clients who owed large debts, taking part in the less than seedy activities and much worse, or a combination of all the above. It has been a huge embarrassment for the LAPD at the time and the media had been relentless in their coverage. It hadn't helped that it all happened in the same decade as the LA Riots and the department was just starting to recover from that.

"Of course I remember," Andy's gaze shifted to the ceiling as he reflected back. "Davis couldn't have been more than a rookie beat cop at the time, right?"

"That's correct."

He rubbed the tip of his chin as he thought some more. "I thought most of our guys that were involved were more experienced and were either arrested or had their badges taken."

"They were," she confirmed.

"How was Winnie Davis involved then?" He was becoming annoyed by his lack of understanding.

"She wasn't directly involved. She had simply been associated with a few of the lower level bookies that were rounded up."

"And that's when her name came up? One of them looking to make a deal—less time in exchange for some names?"

"No, nothing like that." Sharon tapped his leg, attempting to instill some patience in him so he'd let her finish. "She had come forth on her own volition when they were arrested in order to keep her name clear.

"Makes sense." Andy's head rolled against the wall so that he could look at her. "Considering everything that happened, I'm surprised you weren't forced to give her the boot just as a precaution."

"I wasn't the one who spoke with her, my CO did." She and the rest of the squad had only been informed of Winnie Davis's situation on the off chance her name did come up. "It's my understanding that she had the gambling under control a year or two before she even graduated college and entered the academy."

"Huh," Andy sounded rather impressed, "she's fortunate to have gotten things under control so young and before it could completely destroy her life. And that she's managed it this long."

"Well," Sharon thought back to Winnie's comment the day before when she mentioned it only being just over a decade, not closer to the two she'd expect it to be, "she may have relapsed, I don't know for sure, but it never sent up any red flags at work until now."

"You know," Andy grabbed Sharon's hand that was resting on his leg and gave it a squeeze, "it sucks the way everything has gone down," he smiled sheepishly, "but I can't help but be grateful that we don't have to worry about Winnie Davis becoming Assistant Chief anymore."

Sharon's sigh was loaded with disappointment.

"What?" he asked almost defensively. "I know you didn't want her to have the job anymore than the rest of us."

"Even if I do believe that Winnie Davis becoming the next Assistant Chief would be a horrible mistake for the department," Sharon arched her brow, warning him not to get too cocky about being right, "I can't deny that part of me still would've been proud that a woman had advanced that far up in the ranks." There was no judgment in her tone when she added, "And on her own merits, too, without having to sleep her way to the top."

"You never cease to amaze me."

"What?" That was the last thing she expected Andy to say in that moment. "Why?"

Andy chuckled as though it was obvious. "The woman tried taking you down with her, yet you still sympathize for her."

Sharon rolled her eyes. "Just because we don't see eye to eye doesn't mean I can't support her."

"Yeah, but she plays by the rules of every man for himself, much like everyone else would in her position." Andy cupped her face with one of his hands and let his thumb stroke her cheek. "That's just not you though, that's never you. You simply amaze me."

There was so much wonder in his voice and the besotted look he was giving her made her heart constrict in the most delicious way. This man of hers could be awfully sweet and sometimes, not always, had a way of saying just the right thing. She kissed him in gratitude, not knowing how else to respond.

"You know," there was a hesitation in his tone that had her eyes narrowing, "there's still a chance for a woman to make it up in the ranks. Based on her own merits."

"Andy," she groaned and her head thumped back against the wall, "I don't want it. I know it disappoints you—"

"Hey, hey, hey." Andy put an arm around her and pulled her against his chest. "I could never be disappointed in you." He squeezed her tighter and kissed the top of her head to punctuate his words. "I will admit it was scary as hell to think about what would happen to most of us if someone like Winnie Davis did get the position," two of his fingers tilted her chin so she would look up at him and he smiled remorsefully, "and I might've...definitely...pushed you too much about going for the job, but I wouldn't have been disappointed if you didn't." His lips brushed hers. "It's your choice to make. If I do feel disappointed, it's not with you, but for you. If anyone deserves it, it's you. But only if you want it."

"Thank you," she kissed him again, relieved it wasn't going to continue to be an issue, "and for the record, I don't want it."

"Understood," he said sincerely. "But Sharon," his fingers toyed with the ends of her hair, "there's still a chance that Pope will offer you the position."

"No, Andy," she sat up straight so she could look at him directly, "I'm fairly confident Leo Mason is going to be the next Assistant Chief."

"What makes you think that?"

"Will Pope wants someone who is going to toe the line, his line specifically. After our discussion yesterday," her eyes shined with pride, "I'm pretty sure he realizes that's not going to be me."

Andy's gaze turned wistful and his tone matched it. "I really wish I could've been there to witness Pope being handed his ass by you."

Sharon covered her face with her hands. "Oh, God."

"What?" Andy clumsily got up on his knees to face her, then he pulled her down by her hips so she was lying flat on her back and he could lean over her. You're sexy when you're being all superior and knowingly right and bossy." He drew a languid kiss from her lips. When he lifted his head, he flippantly added, "Plus, I just don't like the bastard."

She tugged him down so that he was lying against her chest. "I'm sorry you missed out," she mumbled, not apologetic in the least.

Andy tickled his fingers up her ribs. "Just give me a heads up for the next time."

Sharon snorted. "I'll do my best."

They were quiet for a long while after that. Sharon gently ran her fingers through his hair as Andy's hand glided over the silk of her nightgown from just beneath her breast down to her thigh. It was nice to simply be after the chaos of the last two days. She was certain there was more to come, but confident the worst of it had passed. The circumstances surrounding Winnie Davis were unfortunate, her initial response even more so. Sharon wouldn't hold any ill thoughts towards the woman though. Reflecting back, she could honestly say she handled the situation with the grace and poise of the reputation she cultivated over the years. It stood true even when under attack and that was a comfort to her, as much of a comfort as the unconditional love and support from the man lying next to her. She didn't need him to be strong or to face her challenges, she had successfully fought many battles alone in her lifetime, but now that she had him, she was absolutely going to cherish him.

A month later…

Sharon walked into her office, her attention immediately drawn to an open newspaper placed on her desk. When she reached it, it was impossible to miss the reason why. Its headline was marked with a big red circle.

"Is LAPD's Vatican Falling? - Pope Accused of Sexism," she read aloud.

The first line started with, "In a lawsuit filed against the Chief of Police..."

THE END

We hope you enjoyed the read! :)