A/N: You don't necessarily need to read 'A Collaboration', but it wouldn't hurt ;)

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Every time he heard the door knock he expected it to be her.

It wasn't.

"Hey Rusty, come in."

Andy didn't bother asking why the kid was here. Rusty was part of a unique set of people he'd open the door for first, and ask questions to later.

"Hey Andy, I hope you don't mind me dropping in like this—"

Andy didn't let him finish. He brushed away Rusty's concern by saying he was pleased to see him, and reminding him that he was welcome to his house any time. Rusty seemed to accept the welcome and nodding in reply he took a good look around Andy's house.

It was a neat enough place. It was a lot more tasteful than Provenza's place pre-Patrice. Andy kept the place mostly tidy, and he didn't seem to own a lot of knick knacks. He had stacks of magazines though, and books that lined the top of a piano, but other than a smattering of family photos, the place hardly seemed used.

Rusty wondered how long it had been that way. Andy was spending a lot more of his off time with his mother lately, so between work and Sharon, he mustn't have had a lot of down time to just hang out in his own place.

Wandering through the hallway he noticed with some amusement that the tinsel Sharon had left on the entry way mirror was still there. She had made a point of adding subtle decorations to Andy's house before he arrived home. Along with the decorations, she had dusted, cleaned and even moved furniture so he would feel welcome when he returned.

Her enthusiasm had confused Rusty at first.

She seemed to enjoy Andy's company at the condo, and for a while there he had been preparing himself for the idea that she might ask him to stay. It was only when she asked Rusty to help move Andy's armchair that he realised how much she was holding back.

It had taken her five moves before she was happy with where it was placed, and by the fourth move she was rubbing the corners of her eyes and trying to shield her face from Rusty's gaze. She was tired from cleaning, but her hands would also linger longer than needed on Andy's things. She would trail her fingers along the back of his armchair, and he could see her eyes soften. Her gaze would become lazy - almost heavy, as if it was being pulled under a myriad of thoughts. Despite her lack of energy, and wandering mind, she had been utterly determined to make things perfect for him.

Andy had brought Rusty through to the kitchen, and without asking, poured them both a drink of water. "I have to say, I was a little surprised to see you here. Are you checking up on me?"

Rusty tried not to look guilty. He knew that Andy must have known how his mother had ushered him into checking on Andy from time to time. For a police captain, she wasn't very stealth when her feelings for the Lieutenant were concerned.

"Rest assured Lieutenant, I am not here out of my mother's request - she doesn't even know I'm here. Actually I thought maybe Gus was staying here with you. I figured as he stayed here last time, maybe he came back. He didn't tell me where he was staying so I—"

"So you didn't figure to ask him?" Andy finished for him.

Rusty shook his head.

"Well I did make the offer, but he said he had a friend that had just moved into town he wanted to check in with."

Rusty's head perked up at the mention of a friend, but he didn't have anything else to add.

"So…" Andy began. "I thought you already made amends with Gus."

Rusty breathed in and adjusted his posture. This was not a conversation he wanted to have with Sharon, and he wasn't sure Andy was a suitable option either.

"Do you eat fruit cake?" Andy asked, as he moved to the other side of the kitchen.

"Fruit cake?"

"Yeah, I seem to have five of them this year." Andy replied, holding a cake in each hand.

Rusty raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Isn't one enough?" he asked.

Andy shrugged his shoulders and put the cakes down on the bench. "You would think so, but I have this very old aunt that seems to send me one each week leading up to Christmas. I never had the heart to tell her I don't eat the stuff."

"So what do you end up doing with so much cake?"

"Oh usually I regift some to Provenza, and the rest is given to unexpected visitors." Andy replied, placing a plate of cake in front of Rusty.

Rusty looked down at the cake and picked up a fork, "Thanks, I think."

Andy took a piece of cake for himself and sat opposite the kid. He figured that if Rusty was willing to suffer through Aunt Marian's Christmas fruit cake, then maybe he should give it a go.

"You know," Andy began, in between bites of the cake. "I have the address of Gus' friend if you wanted to visit him."

Rusty looked up from his plate for a moment, then looked back down at the cake. He broke a few pieces off and stared at the cubes of dried fruit rather than eating them. "I don't know. I guess I just don't know what to say to him."

"What's to say? He saw your blog right?" Andy asked.

"Yeah, it's not really about that now."

Rusty looked from his fork to Andy. He wasn't sure if the guy had any clue what he was talking about, but at the same time he was reluctant to clarify the situation.

"He's gotten to know you and he likes you." Andy said, before taking a sip of water.

Rusty's eyes widened, and he shuffled in his chair. His gaze then darted from one end of the table to the other, and in his state of uncertainty Andy's hand stilled his own.

"Rusty, Rusty, it's ok. I'm not going to grill you on it. Eat your cake."

Rusty looked at Andy's hand and back at the cake he had put off eating. He nodded his head, and Andy let go of his hand. Rusty picked up his fork and took a bite of the cake. Rusty chewed the cake and found his teeth hit a particularly hard piece of dried apricot. He tried not to react, but the piece managed to get stuck in his tooth, and moving his tongue around to pick out the offending piece of fruit provided a significant challenge.

"Try this," Andy said passing him a small container of tooth picks.

Rusty covered his embarrassment with a small smile. Nodding in thanks he took the offered tooth pick.

"It's awful isn't it?" Andy asked.

"What is?" Rusty asked while he pulled the tooth pick from his mouth.

"The cake, trying not to hurt good people - but mostly the cake."

Rusty didn't understand how Andy could so easily jump from something as inconsequential as cake to the feelings of others. Perhaps it was all those years being a particular type of detective that made the transition so easy. He noticed, just as his mother must have, that Andy's humour had a grounding effect.

"I don't think I can like him the same way he likes me. I'm not sure I'm capable of liking…"

"You're cautious. That's understandable considering—" Andy began.

"Please don't finish that sentence." Rusty asked.

Rusty sighed and leant back in his chair. "It's been what? Almost four years now. Four years of living with Sharon, four years of being loved and protected by her - by all of you."

"And yet?" Andy added.

Rusty looked over at Andy. He was beginning to feel the same heaviness under his eyes that he imagined Sharon was feeling the day they moved Andy's furniture. Things unsaid lingered in his mind. It wasn't just truths he felt uncomfortable admitting - it was a lot of things he couldn't articulate, places he was afraid to let his mind wander.

"I don't know if I'm capable of giving that back."

He didn't think the words so much as say them. This wasn't a problem he ever imagined Sharon having. He always saw her mind running over thoughts, carefully analysing each word before she even allowed herself to say them. She wasn't accustomed to declarations, it wasn't her style.

"You asked me the other day if I loved your mother. You told me that love isn't a thing people should be afraid to say. Well here's the thing kid, love isn't a thing people should be afraid to feel either. Whether you're curious about someone, like them, or love them, you can't be afraid of that. Whatever it is - it's worth just feeling anything."

Rusty moved his fork between his fingers. He wasn't sure what to do with his hands, or anything else for that matter. "And if I don't feel anything?" he asked.

Andy shrugged his shoulders, "then you don't, and maybe one day you do - but remember that you have."

"I have?" Rusty asked.

"Sharon, you love Sharon. Any kind of love is proof that it's possible - it's all possible. Now are you going to finish that cake? or is Provenza getting your crumbs along with the two cakes on the bench?"

Rusty let a grin escape his expression, and decided another bite just might be worth the risk.