Rusty POV

"Hey, kid, how's it going? It's Flynn."

"I know who it is," I said, chuckling at his unusual hesitancy, although now that I think about it, even though I see him more than most of the others, we don't ever really talk on the phone.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" I asked, suddenly nervous since he doesn't typically call me. "Is Sharon alright?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah, she's fine," he said in a rush. "I just…well, I need a bit of a favor."

"Okay," I said carefully, relaxing again but now totally curious. "What kind of favor?"

There was silence on the phone for several seconds, and I almost thought that maybe we got disconnected or something, but then he said, "Okay, so Sharon told me that you…um…you were in the garage the other night."

The guy is cracking me up because I always thought he was some kind of ladies' man or something. And maybe that's not right, because it's not like I think he's a player. I mean, if he were, it certainly wouldn't be cool that he's into Sharon because I definitely don't want to see her get hurt. But it's more like that he's been around the block a few times, I guess, so the idea that he's nervous or embarrassed or anything really, about a woman, is kind of funny.

It also tells me that maybe he's got it bad for Sharon. I like that, I think. So far, anyway.

"Yeah, I was there."

"So you…know," he said.

"That you were kissing Sharon?" I clarified, just to give him a hard time.

I could hear the sigh, and I could easily picture the eye roll that went with it as he said, "Yeah, kid. Look, are you going to help a guy out or not?"

His remark had me thinking back to my conversation last night with Emily. She Skyped me, probably so that I could see her stern look that went along with the tone.

"Ricky said you busted Mom kissing Andy Flynn," is how she started as soon as I answered the call. "And you told him instead of me?"

"I needed advice," I said defensively. "And it was after ten, which means after one in the morning where you are, so…yeah, I told him."

And he said he wouldn't tell anyone, I added silently. Although I guess Emily doesn't count.

"And all day today, it never once entered your mind to call me?" she pouted. "Text? Email? Pony express?"

She had me with that one, and since she could see my panicked expression, there was no opportunity for me to make something up.

"That's what I thought," she concluded. "Listen up, little brother. You're there. You have to keep us in the know with important stuff like this, and trust me when I say that mom kissing someone is important."

"They were just in the front seat of his car," I defended. "It's not like he was sneaking out of her room in the middle of the night."

I have no idea why I said that, other than that it sounds like she's mad at me, and Ricky made a point of saying that something like that - Flynn caught leaving Sharon's bedroom - was definitely newsworthy.

Emily ran her hands through her hair, fluffing it out and sighing in exasperation before fixing me with a look.

"And if you'd waited until you saw that, I'd be in your room with my hands around your throat!" she said emphatically. "Do you not get how big a deal this is? Mom isn't casual about kissing or dating or anything like that, and she's probably vulnerable right now, because of the divorce and all."

"I don't think that's it," I corrected.

"No? What do you mean?"

"I mean, she and Flynn have been spending a lot of time together. A lot of time. Even before she served your dad with papers. I think she really likes him."

With that, she seemed to relax as she broke into a smile.

"Really? Okay, so what kind of a kiss was it? Like…have a good night kind of thing, or…I really want to rip your clothes off?"

"God, Emily, I wasn't analyzing it or anything, okay? I just happened to see."

"And?" she persisted.

"More like the latter," I admitted.

"What did she say when you told her?" she questioned, her eyes full of mischief.

"That we weren't going to talk about it. And now I've told you and Ricky."

"You didn't tell me. Ricky did. A mistake you'd better not make again," she warned playfully. "Because you know when Mom says no one, it doesn't include her children."

"Uh huh," I mumbled dubiously.

"So what did Andy have to say for himself?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"You didn't talk to him today?" she asked.

"No," I said carefully, having a feeling I was about to get into trouble again. "He was at work, and I was doing stuff."

"Oh my God," she said with dramatic flair, and then she went into lecture mode. "If there is a suitor for our mother, there has to be an interrogation. I mean, what are his intentions? How seriously is he taking this? Does he know we'll strangle him if he hurts her? That type of thing. Come on, Rusty."

"And you want me to do that? Hey, this is Flynn. He's a good guy."

"A good guy as a buddy or a subordinate doesn't make him good dating material. And Mom's not worldly in the ways of men, you know? Do you want her to fall victim to a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy?"

She barely paused at all before answering for me.

"No. Exactly. So it's up to us to look out for her, which means you need to talk to him."

"Uh…okay," I agreed reluctantly.

"And then fill me in."

I agreed to that as well, and then we chatted for a few more minutes. I'm still not a hundred percent sure where I stand with her, although she does always manage to make me laugh, and I guess she wouldn't call me if she didn't like me. I'm sure it's awkward for her as much as it is for me, although you'd never know it to see her. Just like Sharon, I guess. She seems graceful and comfortable in any situation.

So anyway, since she just pointed out last night that it's my job to give Flynn the third degree, and now here he is on the phone, I figured I'd go for it.

"That depends," I said, in response to his request for a favor.

"On what?"

"You need to answer a couple of questions for me first."

"Questions like what?" he asked guardedly

"Well, um…"

I trailed off because I honestly have no idea what I'm supposed to be asking him. Emily mentioned his intentions towards Sharon…but is that really what I'm supposed to say? It sounds ridiculous, not to mention the fact that Sharon would probably kill me if she were to find out that I'm quizzing him.

But Emily will kill me if I don't, so…

"So what's going on between you and Sharon?" I finally asked.

I was met with silence again, only this time I know he's still there, so I waited patiently for him to decide how to answer, and I kind of like that he's the one on the hot seat now, instead of me, like I was with Emily last night.

"Did you ask her? Because I'm not sure that's something I should answer."

I'll give him points for discretion and a lack of boastfulness.

But that still doesn't help me, in my quest to properly fulfill the sibling role.

"Let me rephrase it then," I said, starting to get in the swing of things. "Are you wanting to have a relationship with her, or is it just…are you only…"

I stopped talking, realizing what I was about to say, because there's no way I can ask Flynn if he's only trying to…to…jeez, I can't even think it.

I'm over the line, and I know it. God, Emily and her crazy ideas. Why couldn't she just call Flynn?

I was afraid he was going to get mad, but the next thing I know, he's laughing.

"Are you asking me my intentions?" he said, still chuckling, and I finally started laughing, too.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Apparently it's my job as the last sibling still at home, and Emily said…"

"You talked with Emily?"

Crap. I did not mean to say that.

"Yeah," I said slowly. "Please don't tell Sharon, though."

"Let me guess. Ricky knows, too?"

"Yeah," I said again. "Look, Flynn, I know how to keep a secret, it's just that I needed advice, so I talked to Ricky, and then he called Emily, and…"

"It's okay, kid. Relax. I won't rat you out."

"Oh, thank God," I moaned. "Okay, so what's this favor? I think I owe you now."

"Yeah, you do," he agreed. But before he told me what he wanted, he lowered his voice and said, "But hey, don't worry, okay? In the long line of people who never want to see Sharon get hurt, I'm right up at the very front, okay?"

I might not know much about this whole sibling thing, or even about healthy adult relationships, but I do have plenty of experience when it comes to being able to tell when a man is lying, or when he just wants something, and even though I already pretty much knew it, it makes me feel good to confirm that neither of those apply to Flynn.

Andy POV

"Making sure of avoiding potential danger, mishap, or harm; cautious," Provenza read aloud, and then he looked up and said, "What the hell kind of card is this?"

"You're gonna get busted," I said with a shake of my head. It was killing me to maintain a neutral expression, but I think I pulled it off.

From my spot in the doorway of Sharon's office, I could see Sanchez, who's posted at the door to Major Crimes. My partner is all the way in her office, standing next to her desk where there's a huge bouquet of flowers, and he's plucked the card from the holder.

"If you'd get in here and help me, we'd finish faster," he griped, flipping over the envelope in search of an indicator of some sort.

"I'm on secondary lookout," I replied. "It's all you're going to get from me."

"You didn't have any problem when it was Sykes' love life we were investigating," he reminded me. "All of a sudden you've got a conscience?"

"Sykes isn't my boss," I pointed out. "And she isn't half as scary as the captain."

"Um…sir?" Sanchez called out as he made a beeline for his desk.

Provenza mumbled something unintelligible as he crammed the card back into its envelope, and then he put it back on the pronged stick before scurrying towards me. I started for my desk just as the outer door opened, and I didn't turn around, but I could hear her heels clicking purposefully.

"Lieutenant?" she questioned, obviously having caught my partner as he attempted to leave her office.

"Um…yeah, I…I thought maybe you left the Quick file on your desk, but…"

"Isn't this it right here?" Sykes asked knowingly. She was leaning against Provenza's desk with the file in question in her hand. "It was right on top, Lieutenant."

Payback, I'm sure, for having just learned we investigated the source of her flowers, a month or two back.

"Right," Provenza said with a forced grin. "Thank you, Sykes. Always so helpful."

I finally risked looking at Sharon and found her glancing around the room with curiosity before settling her gaze on me.

She raised an eyebrow, and I shook my head slightly in response, silently saying, it's nothing to worry about.

And it's not, because Provenza could've spent hours on those flowers and he'd still come up empty.

That's why I called Rusty this morning.

He surprised the hell out of me by all but asking me if I was only trying to get Sharon into bed, although at least he had the good sense not to put actual words to the inquiry.

I like that he's so concerned about her, and that he's mature enough to talk to me about it. And that he's talked with Ricky and Emily. So I did my best to put his mind at ease while not giving away any details, and then I got down to business.

"I want to send flowers to Sharon at work, but I can't do it myself."

"Flowers?" he repeated, as if it were a ridiculous request. "Sharon's never gotten flowers during the entire time I've known her, not even from her kids."

"Why not, is she allergic or something?" I asked, even though I'm pretty sure she isn't.

"No. I mean, she's got plants and stuff around the house, so I guess not," he decided. "So why can't you buy them?"

"Do you remember that time Sykes got flowers? It turned into a full-blown manhunt," I said. "But if you buy them and pay cash, they won't be able to trace it back to me."

"Sure, no problem. Tell me what you want, and what you want the card to say."

I read the message to him, and he went quiet for a minute before saying, "I don't get it."

It's the textbook definition of careful.

"You don't need to get it," I said on a laugh. "She will and that's all that matters."

And she did get it, too. I knew she would, and I also knew the ambiguity of the message would drive Provenza crazy, so that was an added bonus.

Earlier, when the flowers were delivered, it was all I could do not to stare at her through the window, and then I realized that everyone else in the room was staring at her, so me looking wouldn't arouse any suspicions.

The delivery man left her office and she just sat for a moment, staring at the vaseful of purple roses with a stunned expression on her face, and then she looked out towards us, so we all pretended to get back to work, but I snuck a peek to see her opening the card, and she smiled fully before tucking the card back into the envelope.

"The captain got flowers?" Sykes stated, quietly enough so as not to be heard by Sharon.

"Can't turn off that detective, can you, Sykes?" Provenza retorted sarcastically.

"I mean, from who?" she clarified. "Is she dating someone?"

"I don't know, but she's on her second cup of tea, so as soon as she goes to the ladies' room, I'm going to find out," my partner stated predictably.

I guess I can't blame him. If I didn't know who sent the flowers, I'd be hell-bent on finding out, too.

"Sir, are you sure that's a good idea?" Sanchez spoke up.

"What, you can snoop on Sykes, but not on the captain?"

"Exactly," Sanchez said with a nod, looking over at me, and I nodded, too.

"Don't you two chicken out on me," my partner said, waggling his finger in my direction. "If the captain has a love life, inquiring minds want to know."

It was twenty minutes later that Sharon got up to leave, heading for the restroom and that's when Provenza sprang into action.

"Come on, Flynn," he directed.

"Don't get me involved," I said, even as I stood up to follow him to her office. I wanted to make sure he didn't find anything incriminating, even though I'm sure there's nothing to be found.

"I just want to prove to you that the ridiculous little crush you've got on her is just that - ridiculous," he mumbled. "She's way out of your league."

"Who said anything about a crush?" I responded, even though his words hurt a little.

"Please," he said dramatically, waving me off as he moved to her desk. That's when he spent a few minutes reading over the card and examining the envelope before Sanchez gave the signal that Sharon was on her way back, and now he's at his desk, trying to feign innocence.

"Have you finished it?" Sharon asked him, indicating the Quick file that he'd snagged from Sykes' hand.

"I'll get it to you before the end of the day," he promised as he took a seat at his desk.

"Lieutenant?" she asked, turning back to me. "The witness statements?"

See, this is in regards to that body we went to check out yesterday afternoon. The one that completely ruined my dinner plans.

Provenza and I got there and found the locals in the midst of a heated man hunt, after discovering a witness who claimed to see the killer duck into a neighborhood home. He was flushed out by the uniforms, and went on the run, and even though we had the area blocked off, there was still a lot of ground to cover, so my partner and I spent the next seven hours helping track him down.

It was after ten-thirty when we finished up, and I simply dropped Provenza off at his place rather than going back to the office, but as soon as he was out of the car, I pulled out my phone.

I'd kept Sharon apprised of the situation, via text message, throughout the evening, and I'd convinced her not to wait for me by promising to call when I was finished.

Considering how long it ended up taking, I was glad she went home. Even though I really wanted to see her. I can't stop thinking about her, and I have this irrational fear that if too much time passes before we can be alone again, she's going to talk herself out of liking me.

"You couldn't have sent Sanchez and Sykes?" I asked Sharon when she answered the phone. Of course, I was only teasing her, but she responded anyway.

"It was your turn. I can't be seen playing favorites, can I?"

The sound of her voice did wonders for my mood.

"Do you have a favorite?" I prompted.

"I think you know the answer to that. So you're done?"

"Yeah, the little punk finally gave himself up. Hollywood's got him, and I just dropped off Provenza at his place. You're home?"

"For an hour or so now, yes," she answered, and then she paused for a minute before saying, "Um…so the lieutenant lives about ten minutes from me, right?"

"That sounds about right, yeah," I said with interest, praying that she was really about to say what I thought she was about to say.

"Rusty's home," she said quietly, and then with some hesitation she added, "But I mentioned something about needing to pick up something from the store, so I thought that would buy me fifteen or twenty minutes, if you wanted to come by. We could sit in the car and…talk. What do you think?"

"I think I'm really starting to like parking garages."

Twelve minutes later, we were sitting together in my front seat, in a mostly unlit portion of her parking garage, and she looked nervous, like maybe she was rethinking the idea.

I held out my hand, like she'd done to me the day before, and was relieved when she took hold of it.

"So we should talk?" I questioned. I mean, she did suggest talking, and considering what we did last night, it's probably not a bad idea to get some things out there.

She nodded, seemingly relaxing a little as she shifted towards me and said, "We should, yes. But…"

"But?"

"We don't have very much time. And we can talk on the phone," she said coyly, her voice sexier than I've ever heard it.

So we didn't talk.

Instead we kissed, like we did the night before. It was quite possibly the best fifteen minutes of my life. Getting to know her like this, taking our time and enjoying each other…it's just incredible.

My real concern should probably be how quickly I'm falling for her.

"Is Rusty going to notice that you didn't actually buy anything at the store?" I asked her once we finally managed to break apart. I ran my hand over her hair in an effort to smooth it out, where I'd had my fingers running through it.

"Maybe," she replied with nonchalance, reaching out to swipe her thumb at the corner of my mouth, presumably to remove some stray lipstick. I caught her wrist in my hand and pressed my lips against it, noticing how her breath caught and her eyes strayed to the movement.

She's so responsive and sensual…it blows my mind that the word cold was ever applied to her because she's absolutely incendiary, and I found myself wanting desperately to be alone with her somewhere other than in the confines of my car.

"Call me when you get home?" she posed after kissing me once more and then reaching for the door handle.

I promised that I would, and then said goodbye, watching her walk away until she slipped through the lobby door.

Thirty-five minutes later, I called her.

"I meant to commend you on your choice of parking spaces," she said. "In the back, away from the overhead lights…"

"I did say I'd be careful."

"Textbook definition," she chuckled.

"And it got me a next time," I added with a smile. "So now I'm wondering about the next next time."

"I think we learned today that our schedules don't allow much for making plans."

"Unless you play favorites," I teased, disappointed and yet completely understanding. She didn't respond, so I added, "No, I get it. We'll take it one day at a time."

She was still quiet, and then I heard her exhale softly before saying, "I know we should talk about what's going on between us, maybe lay down some ground rules or something, but…I don't want to. I'm trying not to think too much about it."

"Oh."

"I don't mean that in a bad way," she said quickly, and then she dropped her voice to a low whisper and added, "I mean, I really like spending time with you, Andy. And this whole thing…it…well, it scares me a little."

I could just imagine what it cost her to admit that to me, and it almost made me wish we had spent our time in the car talking instead of making out, so that I could see her face as she said the words, but then again, maybe she needed the distance of a phone call to be able to say it, I don't know.

"It scares me a bit, too," I confessed. "It has the potential to blow up in our faces."

I hated saying it, but I knew it was what we were both thinking, so better to get it out there.

"It does. But maybe if we're careful, with each other as well as how we conduct ourselves, it could be something good. Something really, really good," she countered.

Her willingness to take a chance on me is doing wonders for my self-esteem. I don't know what she sees in me, but it must be something because she's a smart woman who could easily have her pick of men.

We spent a few more minutes talking, and after hanging up, that was when I decided I wanted to send her flowers. I want to sweep her off her feet, even if I have to do it covertly.

And today in the murder room, as she stands waiting for my response, I can't help but notice that there's a glow about her, a genuine look of happiness. I like to think it's because of me.

"I'll have the witness statements on your desk in about fifteen minutes," I told her, deciding to say it loud enough for everyone to hear so that when I go into her office, no one will wonder why.

"Fifteen minutes," Provenza groused in annoyance as Sharon went back into her office. He glared at me and added, "Captain's pet."

But then as soon as she closed the door, he called out, "Hey, Tao, what've you got?"

Tao held up a finger, apparently on a phone call, even though I hadn't realized it, and after another minute, he hung up and said, "Okay, so the florist said the flowers were purchased this morning, paid for in cash."

"You called the florist?" I asked, impressed that Provenza had caught the name of the shop, imprinted subtly on the bottom corner of the back of the card.

"Description?" Provenza asked him, ignoring me completely.

"Male, white, possibly mid-twenties," Tao stated.

"Twenties?" Sykes repeated. "The captain's a cougar?"

"It's probably her son," I suggested reasonably, trying not to laugh.

"Ricky doesn't live here, and why would Rusty buy her flowers?"

"And they're purple," Sykes pointed out.

"What does that have to do with anything? Maybe the captain just likes purple," I said, worried now that there might be some hidden meaning behind the flowers.

"Purple represents love at first sight," Sykes responded wistfully, looking over towards the captain's office.

I looked, too, and saw her leaning over to sniff one of the blooms. She lingered for a moment and then sat down, and I flashed back to the taste of her lips, and how her fingers raked through my hair, and the devastating little sounds she made as we devoured each other, and then I thought about her vulnerability on the phone last night, and then how she made me laugh just minutes later, and how I can't stop thinking about her, how I want to just be with her, doing anything or nothing at all.

I decided that the purple was still a good idea.

Maybe it wasn't love at first sight, but I'm pretty sure it's still love.

Sharon POV

I can't believe how nervous I am. On the way over here, I almost turned around. Twice. My heart feels like it's about to beat out of my chest. And my palms are sweaty. That never happens to me.

Except, apparently, when I'm on my way to Andy's house, where he's invited me over for dinner.

One that he's cooking.

And earlier today, he sent me flowers, beautiful purple roses that filled my office with their fragrant scent. I couldn't stop looking at them, and smelling them, even though it made me feel like such a girl. Not that I want to hide my femininity, but I usually keep such overt acts out of the office.

This is you, being careful?

That's the text message I sent to Andy after the flowers arrived. I loved them, but I know my detectives. Someone will be calling the florist to get the name from the credit card used for the purchase…

There's no trail, trust me, he responded. Then he sent a second one. Can next time be tonight, at my place, for dinner?

I do trust him, so I put all worries about being discovered out of my head as I thought about his invitation.

His place.

Just the thought is daunting and oh so exciting. For two nights in a row, we've had such a lovely time in his car. I'm not sure I'll be able to ride with him to a crime scene anymore. I'll be too distracted by how it feels to kiss him, to be kissed by him. Fantastic, I might add.

That's part of what has me worried about being in his home.

So far, we've only just kissed, but tonight there won't be any reason to stop. I don't really want to stop, even though I think we probably should. It's too soon, I think, and there's no rush, as he keeps telling me, and yet at the same time, I really want him.

I stepped onto his porch, and then just stood for a moment to breathe, and then I took another minute to run my hand over my hair, and then I looked down to check my blouse, and decided that undoing one more button wouldn't hurt, and then I smoothed out my skirt, and took another deep breath.

I came straight from work because Chief Taylor held me up, calling me into a meeting at five o'clock that dragged on until after six, and I just didn't want to waste any more time, by stopping by my place. Rusty knows I have a dinner date, although I didn't say where, and he kept his playful comments to himself.

Mostly.

"A date with Flynn?" Rusty asked, when I called to let him know.

"Well, yes," I said with exasperation, knowing he knows it's Andy. "Are you okay with ordering a pizza or something?"

"Sure, no problem. So you're not driving with him from work, are you?"

"No, why?"

"Well, because then he'd have to take you back to your car, and we all know what happens when…"

"Rusty," I interrupted. "We aren't talking about this, remember?"

"So I don't get to tease you at all? Come on, Sharon…"

"No, you don't."

At least he doesn't know about last night. I can just imagine what he'd say if he realized I made up an excuse to leave just so I could spend fifteen minutes in the car with Andy. I can't believe I asked him to come over just for that, but the thought of going to bed without seeing him, without kissing him again…my need for him overrode my good sense, I suppose. Although Andy didn't seem to mind at all. In fact, he seemed just as happy to see me as I was to see him.

And tonight, I feel the same way.

It's only been about ninety minutes since I saw him last, and yet I don't want to wait one more, so I finally rang the bell.

I won't say he was waiting for me or anything, but it did only take him about ten seconds to open the door, and his face was flooded with relief.

"You thought I was going to cancel," I stated knowingly.

"Uh…" he began hesitantly, and then he chuckled and said, "Yeah, I did."

"This is kind of a big step, isn't it?" I acknowledged, and so far, I'm still standing on the porch as he's inside, holding open the door. His expression is inquisitive, so I clarified by saying, "I mean, we can explain away why we were in a car together. But me, coming to your house…"

"You think kissing in my car is better than having dinner in my house?" he countered, looking amused and so cute, with his tie gone and his sleeves rolled up, and the desire washes through me again just from the sight of him.

"I didn't say anything about one being better," I amended. "Just easier to explain."

"Maybe we should mix it up," he suggested mischievously, holding out his hand to me, since I'm still outside, so far unable to get my feet moving.

"Mix it up?" I asked as I took his hand and crossed the threshold.

"How about I kiss you in my house?" he proposed, a smile playing on his lips.

"And we'll eat dinner in your car?" I quipped, moving past him but still holding his hand, so then he gently tugged me back towards him.

"Hey, one step at a time, right?" he replied, pushing the door closed with his foot as he drew me up next to him. "What kind of guy do you think I am? Eating dinner in the car…it sounds so scandalous."

His teasing had me laughing, my nerves gone for the moment, and then he slid one hand into my hair as he leaned down for a kiss, an unhurried and easy exploration that set off a slow burn inside of me.

We've never done this standing up, or without a console in between us, and I couldn't resist moving even closer, pressing my body against his. He felt warm and solid, and I wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly to me as I let myself get lost in the kiss.

I have no idea how long we stood there, taking pleasure in each other, but eventually I realized I was hearing a beeping sound coming from the other room.

"Oven timer," he explained as he slowly released his hold on me.

"So you're really cooking?" I asked with interest, following him into the kitchen while pretending to be mostly unaffected by the kiss that had racked me to my core.

"I piddle in the kitchen from time to time," he deflected, but once we were in the room I could tell he was being modest. The counter contained chopped vegetables, staged and ready for…whatever he's making. I'm not sure what it is, but there's a wonderful aroma coming from the pan he pulled out of the oven.

I ran my hand over his back, peeking around him for a closer look.

"That looks incredible, Andy."

"It's easier than it looks. I'm just going to throw in the vegetables, and put it back in for a few minutes," he said, going through the motions as he was saying the words, and it was easy to see his comfort level in the kitchen. It's a side to him I was unaware of until this moment, and it makes me realize that I want to know more about him. I want to know everything about him.

"So, get this," he said after he put the dish back in the oven and closed the door, and then turned towards me, wiping his hands on a dish towel. "Sykes thinks you're a cougar."

"What?" I asked, nearly choking on my surprise.

"Oh, yeah," he answered. He tossed the towel onto the counter, and then shifted his full focus on me, and suddenly the room feels overly warm as his eyes travel over me, lingering briefly at the spot where I undid that extra button before returning to mine.

"The florist said a guy in his twenties bought the flowers," he explained.

It took me a second, but then it clicked.

"Rusty? You called him?"

"We had a nice little chat this morning," he admitted, and my first inclination was to ask him for details, but then he stepped up close to me and settled his hands on my waist. Our most intimate contact yet. Well, other than kissing. But even when we were doing that, we mostly just held hands. I like it, this new closeness we're exploring.

"Thank you, by the way," I said, my voice surprising even me with its husky quality. "For the flowers. They're beautiful."

He only smiled in response, encroaching further into my personal space and I think I was going to say more, maybe something about how I don't need him to romance me, but instead I held my breath as his predatory gaze locked onto mine, and then he leaned in, his lips close but not quite touching, so that I could just feel his breath as he moved towards my ear and then my neck, and I was so completely tuned into him, just waiting for the touch of his lips until he finally pressed his mouth to my jaw and then continued kissing his way across my throat. It made my knees feel weak, and I let out a contented sigh as I tilted my head, giving him better access. We're still standing in the kitchen, with him trapping me against the pantry door, but I don't care where we are, I just want him to keep doing more of that.

His fingers clenched, gripping my waist more tightly and I think maybe I'm effecting him as much as he is me, and it occurs to me that I should be a more active participant, so I slid my hands into his hair, at the back of his head, and then suddenly his mouth was covering mine with single-minded purpose, and there's this clenching feeling in my stomach and a buzzing in my head, and even though our bodies are meshed together and I can feel the hard press of him against me, it's still not close enough, and I'm not sure why I was ever worried about this, because we're obviously perfect together and who ever thought slow was a good idea anyway?

He tore his mouth away from mine, blazing a path down my neck again, and I threw my head back, offering myself to him. He ventured further than before, his mouth moving between my breasts, exploring the area I exposed when I undid that button, and I want him to keep going, to undo them all.

I sighed again, my entire body focused on the feel of his lips, and there's this pleasant tingling feeling rolling throughout me, and then he slid one hand over the silk of my blouse, covering my breast with his palm, and I sucked in a harsh breath at the intensity of the sensation.

He hesitated briefly, probably to make sure I was still on board, so I covered his hand with mine, encouraging him to explore with more purpose.

His lips found their way to mine again and now the urgency has intensified even more, and I think he's losing the handle on his control, and I like that…a lot. Without letting up his assault on my lips, his hands move to the buttons on my blouse, easing them open one at a time, oh so slowly, and I feel like I may spontaneously combust at any second, and then he got to the last one, and the anticipation of feeling his touch was about to kill me, but then I finally felt the warmth of his hand slide across my skin, settling over the lace of my bra, and now it's official.

I'm completely on fire.

He moved his lips away from mine again, and before I could protest the loss, he leaned down and took his hand away from my breast, only to replace it with his mouth, and I think I uttered an oh my God as the pleasure soared through me. I could feel something at the edge of my consciousness, something just out of reach, but I was too distracted by the delicious feel of his mouth and his hands and his hard body…and then it hit me.

"Do you smell smoke?" I managed to ask, my lack of reaction belying the importance of such a statement.

"No," he murmured, but then the smell was stronger, and as much as I didn't want him to stop - ever - I put my hands on his shoulders. "Andy…"

"Damn, I forgot to set the timer," he said, exhaling heavily as he reluctantly stood up fully and flashed me a sheepish grin, taking a small step back but still not making a move towards the oven because now he's looking me over as I stand with my hair disheveled and my blouse agape, and before I have the chance to be self-conscious about it, he brought his eyes back to mine, and the emotion in them is something I'm not sure I'm ready to think about just yet, and then he stroked his hand along my cheek as he said, "I don't know if I've said it, but God knows I've thought it often enough…you're just absolutely beautiful."

It's not the first time someone's complimented my looks, but it has to be the most touching and sincere, and burning dinner be damned, I had to kiss him again, and this time I took control of it, wanting to convey to him all those things I can't bring myself to say. Like how much I want him. How beautiful he is to me. How much I care about him. How important he is to me.

I might never have stopped kissing him if it weren't for the sudden blare of the smoke alarm.

We pulled apart, laughing at the obnoxious disturbance, and I reached for a stool so that I could silence the alarm while he grabbed a pot holder and pulled the ruined dish from the oven.

"I think we'll be ordering in tonight," he said, tossing the dish into the sink and then turning on the cold water.

I slipped off my shoes and climbed on the stool and said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…"

"Been so sexy?" he interrupted, looking up at me with an amused expression. "I'm pretty sure you can't turn that off. And if my choices are a home-cooked meal or kissing you, then I'll be eating take-out for the rest of my life."

His words caused my heart to pound, the insinuation of longevity between us, but as much as it scares me, I think I like it more.

"Be careful," he said, moving to stand next to me and then holding up his hand. I grabbed onto him for stability - another metaphor, I suppose - and reached up with the other hand to push the button, sending the room into abrupt silence.

"Can you imagine how we'd explain that?" he continued, letting go of my hand, and then reaching for my waist. "Half-dressed captain falls from stool in lieutenant's home…"

"I'm more than half-dressed," I argued playfully, letting him help me down, and then moving into his embrace as his arms encircled me.

"You're right. We should do something about that."

"Hmm…you think so?" I teased, and I don't know where my nerves went but they certainly aren't with me anymore because everything about being with Andy just feels right.

"Definitely," he said with a smile. Then he glanced around at the haze in the room and said with a chuckle, "Although maybe we should go into the living room."

I hummed my agreement and he took hold of my hand, leading the way into the other room.

"Unless you want me to order something first," he offered, hesitating as we neared the sofa. "You're probably hungry."

"Later," I replied, pulling him to me so that we could pick up where we left off, and within seconds, I was right back in the moment, only this time it was me working to undo his buttons, and I hastily slipped the last one through its hole, anxious to actually touch him, skin on skin, and just as I moved my hands beneath his shirt, pushing it open more fully, the doorbell rang.

"Are you kidding me?" he groaned in disbelief.

"Who could it be?" I asked in a panic, my mind already jumping to the conclusion that it's Provenza. And my car is parked right in the driveway, where anyone can see it.

"I have no idea," he said on a sigh, closing his eyes for a second, and then kissing me quickly and apologetically. "I'll find out, and I'll get rid of whoever it is."

He rebuttoned his shirt, and tucked it back into his pants, and after a moment of watching him, I began doing the same, fixing my blouse and tucking it into my skirt. I still feel tousled and my shoes are in the kitchen, and I can't imagine that anyone who looks at me won't know exactly what we've been up to, but I'm hoping he's right, and that whoever it is, he'll manage to send them away.

"I'll be right back," he promised, taking my hand and bringing it to his lips for a lingering kiss and then leaving the room, turning into the hall that leads to the front door.

I stood still, wondering what I could do to look casual, just in case, and then I saw a case file on his coffee table, so I went over and picked it up.

It's Alice.

Not the original file, of course, but a copy he made for himself, presumably to work on during off-hours. I've got one just like this at home, and I'd bet others do as well. It saddens me a little, as I glance over it, and then I heard voices, a female one in addition to Andy's.

Before I had time to analyze it, I turned to find him standing in the doorway, next to Nicole. She seems upset, although she managed a smile when she said, "Sharon, it's great to see you again."

I put down the file and met her halfway across the room, where she pulled me into a quick hug before stepping back to look at me, and then her father, and then me again.

"It looks like I'm interrupting," she remarked. "Um…I can come back another time."

"No, it's fine," I assured her, sharing a look with Andy and giving him a nod. I mean, this is his daughter, and it looks like something is on her mind, so as much as I didn't want to be interrupted, I can wait. "I was about to head out anyway."

It took another minute to convince her, but she finally took a seat on the couch, and I went to fetch my shoes, and then I told her goodbye before Andy walked me to the door.

"I'm sorry. I burned dinner, and now…"

"Is she alright?" I asked him as the two of us stepped out onto the porch. He pulled the door mostly closed and then pulled me into his arms.

"Something about her mother and stepdad," he answered. "I don't know, but for some reason, her mother always likes to drag Nic into her problems rather than just handling them herself."

"At least she has you to talk to."

"I know," he said, exhaling heavily and then pulling me more tightly against him. "I just hate that you have to go."

"Well, Rusty's going to a friend's house Friday evening. Maybe we could try it again, at my place."

"That's two days away," he groaned, and I completely agree with the sentiment.

It's frustrating just thinking about the fact that if not for the smoke alarm, we probably would've already consummated this relationship…although I suppose then Nicole would've interrupted something more difficult to disguise, so maybe it's all for the best.

But that doesn't mean I'm ready to give up. Quite the contrary, actually. Because now that I've had a glimpse of what it's going to be like, I really don't want to wait.

"He's spending the night," I added coyly, tipping my head back to look up at him. "So maybe you can, too."

"No smoke alarms? And no kids?" he asked with a smile.

"I can't promise either, but we can certainly try."

He nodded and hugged me again, saying, "I had fun with you tonight, even with all the miscues."

"Me, too," I replied, closing my eyes to the feel of his hands stroking over my back.

"Although there's definitely a cold shower in my near future," he whispered into my hair.

"Me, too," I said again, and I smiled as I felt the laughter rumbling in his chest.

And as much as I don't want to leave, I know Nicole's waiting for him, so I reached up and gave him one last kiss before saying goodbye.

The End

A/N: Grazie mille, Camilla :)