Falling into Place

by Kadi
Rated: T

Disclaimer: It's not my sandbox, but oh how I wish that it was!

A/N: Episode addition for 3x07 Two Options. I felt things were left a little… wanting, between Sharon and Andy. I attempted to address that, and all of the doors that Andy seems keen to be breaking down lately.

The adrenaline from the rescue was slow to recede. Even after a long walk around his quiet neighborhood, Andy found he had a lot of energy to burn. He was in the garage that was connected to his bungalow by a covered walk space sanding down an old bookshelf he'd been working on refurbishing for a couple of years now. It was something that he worked on in his spare time, when he had energy to burn and nowhere to direct it.

He had changed upon getting home. Now he wore an old pair of jeans and a plain white t-shirt. It stretched across his back and chest, clinging to his shoulders and upper arms. The garage door was open, a cool breeze wafted through, while the muscles of his arms flexed as he worked the sander. Sweat glistened, but the flash of headlights drew his attention. Andy lifted his head and glanced over as a car pulled into his drive. It came to a stop alongside his maroon cruiser. He put down the sander and reached for a towel as the engine and lights were cut. A sigh was wrought from within him.

Sharon.

Andy wiped his hands and walked slowly toward the car, even as her door opened. She stepped out and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't look as though she'd even been home yet. He wondered if she had even been by to see Julio yet, or if this was just a stop along the way. A glance in the car told him that Sharon was alone, and he found that curious. Andy tilted his head at her and came to a stop, just inside the garage door. "Hey."

Sharon folded her arms cross her chest and walked toward him, stopping just a few steps shy of actually joining him. "Hi." She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. In her heels, they ached, but it had been an incredibly long day. "I…" The words were getting stuck in her throat. That was so very unlike her. She didn't normally have a difficult time expressing herself. She could smell the fresh scent of wood and sawdust from inside the garage. The lights were bright against the dark of the evening, but they glowed warmly toward her. "I was on my way home. I saw Julio. You were right about his mother." A small smile tugged at her lips. Sharon looked down before it could fully blossom. "Unfortunately for him, I'm afraid I could understand her concern." How many times had Señora Sanchez's son taken a bullet now in the line of duty?

"Yeah." Andy held the towel in his hands after wiping them on it. He squinted at her, and tried to figure out where her mind was at. It was hard to read at the moment, but lately she had been harder to read than usual. Since even before Jack's most recent visit. He thought of the papers his partner had seen on her desk and wondered if that was part of it. How long had she been struggling with the idea of finally putting Jack on the road. "I can see where you would relate," he said instead. "Speaking of the kid," he nodded toward her empty car.

Sharon glanced up at him. She took a half step forward. "At home. Rusty had his car today. He actually volunteered to grab some things for Julio from his place, and after dropping them off he was going to go home." Her eyes gleamed, in the glow from the garage lights. Her pride in her boy evident. He was still surprising her. Warmth still filled her at his simple acceptance of the adoption. He'd said yes. He was going to be hers. Sharon almost wanted to cry at the thought, and maybe later she would. At the moment, her jaw clenched and she drew a breath. There was something else on her mind at present, something far more pressing. "I ran into Agent Howard at the hospital. He was there with the children, checking on the mother." Sharon looked at him and felt the warmth leave her. A chill settled where it had once been. "He wanted to complement me that you seem far easier to work with these days. In the past, he would have had more of a fight on his hands, keeping you from barging into the apartment with S.W.A.T." Her brow arched. "I found that rather interesting, as I seem to recall specifically telling you to work with Howard, let him take point."

His jaw clenched. Andy slapped the towel against his leg and looked away. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "Dammit. Look, Sharon…"

"What were you thinking?" She took another step forward, until she stood just in front of him. She could feel the heat of his body. Sharon had to tip her head back to look up at him. "Were you, at any point today, actually paying attention? I already had Detective Sanchez and Lieutenant Provenza on a leash thanks to that boorish woman from the City Attorney's office, and I'm going to have to keep them on a leash or the foreseeable future… and you wanted to rush in, guns blazing? Do you have any idea how that would look?" Her voice shook with barely contained emotion. "Andy, I can't risk—"

"What?" He interrupted her. His eyes blazed. Frustration was bitter, it burned through him. At his sides, his hands clenched. "You can't risk what, Captain? We've been doing our jobs. What the hell are we supposed to do? Stand around and let people shoot at us while we throw rocks?" He thought they'd gotten beyond this, but had too much exposure to her old workmates unravelled everything they thought they'd accomplished after her transfer? Was she once again lost in the FID rulebook? His eyes narrowed. Or was something else fueling her?

"No, I expect you to defend yourselves, and the innocents around you," she shot back at him. "What I do not expect is for you to walk into a dangerous situation, without cause or need, when there are others far more well equipped present to do just that. You are not S.W.A.T. Andy!"

It was the use of his name, coupled with the thickening in her voice that had him drawing her into the warm glow of the open garage. Andy tugged her inside, beneath the lights, so that he could better see her face. His hands gripped her upper arms. He looked down at her, while his teeth ground together and let his eyes roam her drawn expression. Her green eyes flashed at him. There were lines around her mouth, and her lips were swollen. When she drug her bottom lip between her teeth, he knew the reason for that. Her eyes lifted and he was floored by the intensity of the emotion behind their moss colored depths. She was angry at him, the gold flecks in her eyes burned with it, but there was an uncertainty there, and when he looked deeper, he could see her pain. He could see her bleeding with it. She was torn apart and hardly holding it together. Andy shook her slightly when he realized her breath had caught. "Who are you right now?" He asked, voice rumbling at her, thick and rough even to his own ears. Captain or Sharon, he needed to know, and he thought… maybe so did she.

She drew a shallow, shuddering breath. "Andy…" Sharon closed her eyes. Coming here was a mistake, she knew, but she simply had not been able to stop herself. She was far too compelled. There was so much that she wanted to say, but could not. It wouldn't be appropriate. How could she explain that she was so very angry at him, furious even, for wanting to risk himself, when she needed him? Her chest heaved, her breath caught again.

He let go of her arms. His hands moved into her hair and he tipped her head back. He forced her eyes open and let her anger wash over him. Heat coiled through him until a tremor ran down his back. His palms itched while the muscles of his back bunched. It was Sharon standing before him, the Captain was far too controlled to have let herself be swayed like this. His chest clenched with something that was almost hope. "Say it." His voice pitched low, barely a throaty rumble. "There's no one else here…"

Sharon stared back at him. There was a weight pressing down on her chest. It closed in around her throat until even her mouth felt dry. Need and want warred with duty and responsibility. The emotion which fueled her was jumbled, it was far to torrential, and unlike anything that she normally allowed herself to feel… or even express. She was always in control, and perhaps that was the part which bothered her the most lately. She felt as though things were spiraling out of her control, especially where Andy was concerned. "I…" It hurt, the words that were burning in her throat. This emotion that was trying to take over her. It was a burning, physical pain. "I can't have you risking yourself," she managed to stutter out. "The team needs you."

"The team?" His jaw clenched again. A muscle in his cheek ticked. His dark eyes flashed fire and the urge to shake her again was a strong one. Damn her stubbornness, he thought. What game were they playing at, he wondered? That one moment she ran cold and another the heat was so intense it threatened to consume him. It had always been like this between them, the intensity of it. Even when there was mostly dislike between them. It ran to extremes. From one end of the spectrum to the other. Andy's thumb swept her bottom lip, she'd almost bruised it by worrying it with her teeth. "The team needs me," he questioned again, "is that all that's bothering you?"

She swallowed hard, shuddered at the touch. Her eyes closed. Sharon shook her head. He wasn't going to let her off the hook this time, and that was her own fault. "I need you," she whispered. "Andy, I can't…" Her eyes opened, wide and uncertain. "I can't say that. I can't tell you to be careful. I can't stop you from—"

He lowered his head and quietly shushed her, now that she'd admitted her turmoil. Their foreheads rested together. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps. Duty at war with the heart. He understood it only too well. His lips brushed the curve of her cheek. "I know," he said finally. "I won't apologize." Andy lifted his head, looked into her eyes. "I kick down doors, and I go first, and it's what I do. Sharon…"

"I know," she whispered. She couldn't stop him, wouldn't do that, or change him. It scared the hell out of her every time he did it, though. It shouldn't. It wasn't supposed to. "I'm not supposed to feel this way." It was ripping her apart, slowly, from the inside out. "What are we doing?" Sharon didn't know anymore, and had been questioning that since Rusty put voice to Jack's fishing. He thinks you're dating someone. Was she? No, of course not. They were just friends. But Sharon had friends, and she sure as hell didn't feel this way about Gavin. It was something that she had been questioning for a while now, and tonight she didn't think she could avoid it anymore. She certainly couldn't control it.

"Hell," Andy swore. Seeing her pain was one thing, hearing it tore through him. He nuzzled her cheek and then turned his face into her neck. He drew her against him and his arms curled around her, holding her trembling form tight. He hadn't expected that it would be this hard, that moving from friends to something more would hurt quite like this. It was what he wanted, heaven only knew how badly, but the reality was startling. "We're living," he said. "It's all we can do…"

Sharon lifted her head and touched his cheek. Her fingertips were cool, but soft against his skin. Her lips trembled. "I'm not supposed to want you," she said quietly. "I'm not supposed to need you."

He caught her tiny wrist in his hand and drew her fingers to his mouth. His lips brushed them. He felt the tremor that ran through both of them at the touch. "There's no rule book for life, Sharon. All we can do is fumble our way through." Andy drew her hand to his chest and lowered his head until his lips were brushing the corner of her mouth. "I didn't want to need you either," he rumbled quietly. "But I have always wanted you."

"Hm." She hummed quietly. Her eyes closed again. She rubbed her cheek against his. Touch was helping the ache that had settled inside her. It wasn't quite so painful when he held her like that. It didn't feel quite so awkward, or unrealistic, to want him the way that she did with him pressed against her. "At least try not to be so hotheaded when you're kicking down those doors," she murmured.

A low sound that might have been a chuckle rumbled in his chest. "Lady, you like me hotheaded." His hands moved into her hair again. He tipped her face up. "I've got no promises."

"I know." It scared her, and that had fueled her anger at him. She knew what Andy was like when he was moving full steam ahead. It made it so hard to reconcile herself to this feeling, this need. This emotion that was threatening to overtake her where he was concerned. "But I had to say it."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I know." His thumbs stroked her cheeks. "I might be stupid from time to time, but I won't be dumb." It didn't make sense, he knew, it was just something his father used to say. But in the twinkling of her eyes, he saw that she understood his meaning. He'd try to not be unnecessarily hotheaded. Andy stared at her, his jaw clenched again. He hated like hell that the first time he would kiss her it would be because they were both emotionally raw, with adrenaline fueling them. The thought of not kissing her, however, was far more painful. His head lowered again and the first brush of his lips against hers shook him. The interior of the garage spun around them. He groaned thickly and increased the pressure. When her body shifted against him, and she rose on the tips of her toes to return the kiss, his arms curled around her again.

His mouth angled over hers, and at the first sweep of his tongue against her bottom lip, she was lost. A low, throaty moan answered his request. Her arms slipped around his neck and her hands into his hair as her lips parted for him. Warmth swept through her again, burning deeply, brightly, as the earlier chill was swept away. She shivered against him, and pressed that much closer, drawn to the heat of his body. It was, at once, too much and not enough. It was pain, and joy, and hope. Like a steam engine, it swept over her and Sharon realized they couldn't stop this, not now, not even if she were inclined to and perhaps… the root cause of her inner turmoil was the one startling realization that she didn't want to. She wanted this, she wanted him.

Their lips parted with the need to draw air, but their eyes locked. It was going to happen. They were going to happen. Andy's hands moved up and down her back. His nose brushed hers as they continued to watch one another. The silence that stretched between them was almost deafening in the understanding that was reached with that look. It was going to be complicated. It was already complicated. They were going to embrace it.

Andy brushed another light kiss across her lips before stepping away from her. His hand curled around hers and he drew her with him. "Come here," he rumbled. He drew her with him toward the corner of the garage, where his shelf lay propped on saw horses. "Take this off." He tugged at her jacket, and helped her shrug out of the pleated leather. Andy dropped it on the hood of an old car, something else that he tinkered with from time to time.

"Andy, what…" He turned her in his arms and she found herself facing a bookshelf. It was old, California pine and scarred. She knew, from discussions they'd had over dinner, that he was refurbishing it, and a few other items. "It's still not finished…" She glanced back at him, confusion in her eyes.

"Nope." His hands lay at her hips. His mouth brushed her ear when he spoke. "It's something I do… when my hands are itching to do something else, and I have too much energy to burn." His hands moved to hers and they stepped closer to the shelf and his work space. His lips settled against her neck as he reached for the sander again. "How do you feel about getting dirty?"

"I don't…" She let go of it and tried to back up, but he was pressed solidly against her. "Andy, I'm not…"

"You're not ready to go home." She was far too emotional to get in her car just yet. She couldn't face Rusty like this, and if they were honest with each other, they needed a few more minutes together. "We're not ready for me to take you inside," he rumbled against her neck. One hand slid across her belly while the other wrapped her hand around the sander again. If he took her inside, he wouldn't want to let her go home tonight. If he touched her, truly touched her, he wouldn't stop. His mouth moved against the crook of her neck. Her hair tickled his noise. "Sharon…"

She hummed quietly and leaned back against him. She was almost tempted to take him inside. A tremor moved through her. Sharon took a deep, cleansing breath. "I have no idea what I'm doing," She said, and realized the double meaning in her words. She glanced back at him, and some of the uncertainty had returned.

"Yeah," his arms tightened around her. "Neither do I most of the time." He moved her hands over the shelf. "Just got to figure it out."

A small smile tugged at her lips. "Is that all?" Her head tilted. His chin was resting against her shoulder now. It felt so natural to be held like this, by him. She shivered again. She was still fighting a war within herself, duty and heart. Her heart was winning. "You won't let go?"

Andy lifted his head. Her head tipped toward him and their eyes met again. She was still struggling, but she was standing there. "Not a chance," he promised. He felt her relax against him. "I'm pretty good at kicking down doors, Sharon." Even hers.

Her eyes lit, her lips curled. They were full of double meanings tonight. "Good." Her gaze moved back to the shelf in front of them. "Okay," her hand settled more securely around the small machine he'd placed in them. "What do I do?"

His lips pressed against her hair. He reached around her and wrapped his hand around hers. "We'll just go slow," he said. "Let the rest fall in to place…"

~FIN