Chapter Ten: Dunn and Dusted

AN: As this is the last chapter of Stepping Stones set in season one, I'd like to thank everyone who's read and reviewed and followed and favourited, as well as my smashing beta, Olafurneal, for all her hard work. The Major Crimes fandom is such a lovely pool in which to paddle. :) Now, onwards and upwards!

Set right at the end of 01x10 (Long Shot), just after Daniel signs away his parental rights.

The door closed behind Daniel with a sense of finality and Sharon felt the band of iron that had been constricting her breathing snap. The influx of oxygen left her lightheaded, giddy, aware that Andy and the others were talking but unable to grasp the conversation beyond its basic flow and ebb.

He'd signed. Daniel Dunn had signed away his parental rights.

Rusty was safe.

In her peripheral vision Sharon glimpsed the termination of rights form being passed around the team, but her focus was on the young man at her side – the young man who had just watched his biological father walk out of his life forever.

"Guys, Sharon, thank you so much. Thank you," Rusty breathed. He offered a weak smile to the room but Sharon could feel the tension draining from his shoulders under the gentle weight of her hand. "How weird is it that I'm happy to be an orphan?"

The memory of ransacked drawers and a wardrobe bereft of half its clothes washed over her unexpectedly, like a wave from behind. She could almost hear Ricky's plaintive cries when he wouldn't - couldn't - settle at bedtime, could almost feel the heavy weight of Emily's gaze as she stared at the door, evening after evening, waiting…

"You're not an orphan," Sharon reassured firmly, resisting the urge to brush the backs of her fingers across Rusty's cheek. A faint bruise lingered there like a shadow of Daniel's fist, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to wipe it away. "You may not have a mom and a dad, but you are family. You are."

Rusty nodded shyly, glancing towards his shoes. He never knew how to react when Sharon said things like that, but something in her tone of voice made him want to believe her. When he glanced back she was giving him one of those soft summer smiles, the kind that lit up her eyes and warmed him through, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. And then, before he even knew it himself, he was moving – the warmth in his chest sinking into his legs and pushing him forwards-

"Oh-!" Sharon let out a startled gasp as his body connected with hers, the force of it pushing her backwards half a step, but then her arms were wrapping around him, holding him close, letting him know that it was okay. She murmured something unintelligible as his chin came to rest above the narrow strip of her clavicle, his body sagging tiredly against hers.

After a few moments a gruff throat was loudly cleared, reminding them that they were not alone. "Well, I'd say this calls for a celebration!"

They broke apart self-consciously – Rusty more so than Sharon, though he was sure the glossy sheen to her eyes hadn't been there the moment before. "What kind of celebration?" she queried, sliding her Captain's mask back on as she turned towards the source of the interruption expectantly.

Provenza's shoulders rolled into a shrug. "Dinner and drinks at Shot – what else?"

Sharon held his gaze, head tilted, as all eyes in the room turned towards her. A Shot in the Dark, or Shot as it was often shortened, was a cop-friendly watering hole a few blocks east of the PAB. It was local, drinks were cheap, and, barring disagreements, you left your department at the door. Sharon knew that the team met there sometimes, typically after the close of a difficult case, but… "You've never invited me before," she demurred, raising a single eyebrow.

"I- well, you never asked!"

"I asked," Andy admitted quietly.

Provenza rounded on his partner, eyes wide. "You did what?"

"I invited her," Andy clarified, as if doing so was the most natural thing in the world. He met Sharon's amused gaze across the conference room table. "Turned me down flat."

"I, uh, invited the Captain too," Buzz offered, raising his chin a little when Provenza's stare was levelled in his direction. "About a month ago – just after the Loretta case."

Beside him, Amy gave an exaggerated shrug. "I asked the second time we went. Seemed rude not to."

There was a moment's pause as Provenza processed this disturbing news. "Anyone else?" he demanded, scanning the room with a face like a thunderclap. When Julio and Tao both took to examining fixed points above his shoulder, he let out a frustrated huff. "All of you?"

Sharon flicked invisible lint from her sleeve. "I thought it best to wait for the… appropriate invitation, Lieutenant," she soothed. "Besides, I wouldn't want to force anyone to spend their downtime with the boss, now would I?"

She was teasing him Provenza realized belatedly, observing the twitch of her lips and the repressed crinkling at the corner of her eyes. Captain Sharon Raydor was teasing him in front of a team she had somehow managed to wrap around her little finger. And the worst part was he respected her more for it. "Ye gawds, woman-"

"So does Shot have burgers or something?" Rusty cut in, saving the Lieutenant a round or two of sensitivity training.

There were a few amused chuckles from the team, Sharon included. If Rusty had the choice between a week off school and a burger, he'd pick the burger – every time. However, as pleasant as rattling Prozenza's chain was, it was time to end the charade. She suspected that the team, and now Provenza, had invited her to Shot out of a sense of obligation, and she wasn't about to cramp their style. "Rusty," she began softly. "I don't-"

"Sure," Andy interrupted, dark eyes dancing with mischief. "Shot has burgers – double-stacked, with tomatoes, lettuce, red onion, pickles – the works. The fries are pretty good too. They add this paprika and garlic seasoning that's just..." he paused to kiss the tips of his fingers, gaze flickering towards the Captain before he asked, all too innocently, "Why, kid?"

Rusty was wheedling before she had a chance to realize she'd been played.

"Can we go to Shot, Sharon? Please?"

Sharon felt a brief stab of annoyance as Rusty turned the puppy-dog eyes on her. She had intended to back out of Provenza's invitation gracefully, with dignity, but Rusty so rarely asked for anything… "Well," she breathed finally, allowing the weight of their multiple invitations to tug at her heart. "I suppose one burger can't hurt."

Rusty's face broke into an immediate grin. "Alright!"

Sharon saw similar expressions filtering across the faces of the team. Her team. "I think the last dregs of paperwork can wait 'til Monday, don't you?" she suggested, gesturing towards the door. "Let's pack up and aim to head out in ten."

"There'll be no working with her after this," Provenza warned, swinging the door open for Amy to exit first, but his words lacked bite. His version of a compliment, Sharon presumed.

As everyone filed out of conference room, Rusty chatting away to Buzz and Andy about the joys of junk food, Sharon allowed herself a moment – moving to collect the all-important legal document occupying the centre of the table. Six signatures sat beneath Daniel Dunn's waive of parental rights. Six. A rush of gratitude flooded her eyes. Some days, it was hard to believe they were the same division she had butted heads with in FID... other days, she had to fight hard not to put them all on probation. She shook her head fondly. Major Crimes was a pain-in-the-ass team, and they still had a long way to go before procedure became more than a scrambled afterthought, but they were most definitely her pain-in-the-ass team. And, if Sharon's time in the LAPD had taught her anything, it was that belonging made all the difference.

The drive to A Shot in the Dark was short and uneventful. Rusty spent most of it complaining about the amount of homework he had to do over the coming weekend, but Sharon suspected this was mostly to distract himself from feeling awkward about hugging her in front of everyone earlier. She let it slide and encouraged him to pick the radio station, quietly amused by the way he started tapping along to the rhythm of the music on his knee. He'd never done that before, and the idea that he was finally beginning to relax around her touched the quiet longing of her heart.

When they pulled into Shot's busy parking lot, Sharon scanning the stationary vehicles for an empty space, Rusty's tapping abruptly stopped. "Is that Flynn?"

Her eyes followed his line of sight to a lone figure on the other side of the parking lot. It was Flynn indeed – sans tie and jacket, shirt sleeves rolled up, slouched comfortably against the rear of his car like the bodywork had been specifically moulded to fit his shape. From the way he had parked – diagonally across two spaces – it was obvious that he was waiting for them.

"I see him," Sharon confirmed, turning the steering wheel towards the man in question. "And it's Lieutenant Flynn."

"I don't call you Captain Raydor though."

Sharon merely had to glance Rusty's way before he was hastily adding, "Okay, okay – 'respect the law; respect the officers of the law', I get it. Just please don't give me the lecture again…"

Well at least she knew one of their talks had sunk in. Lips twitching, Sharon pulled alongside Andy's vehicle and eased to a stop.

"Thought you were gonna stand us up," Andy joked, as her window slid down.

She made a point of staring at his car, head tilted. "Maybe I should have, if this is the sloppy parking that results."

He grinned, a broad, unrestrained thing, and Sharon found herself momentarily distracted by the way the late evening light picked out the silver in his hair. "No valet. What's a lowly law enforcement officer to do?"

When Rusty snorted, Sharon swiftly decided to move the conversation along. "Perhaps you'd better have another go, Lieutenant," she suggested, sliding her car into reverse and beginning to back up. Andy seemed to get the message, shooting her a quick "Aye, Cap'n" before disappearing into his vehicle.

Once both cars were appropriately parked, Rusty rolling his eyes as Sharon explained the potential ramifications of parking outside the legally defined markings, Andy surprised her by trotting over to open the driver's door for her. "Captain Raydor, Ma'am."

She slid out of the car with a slight frown but made no comment about his… behaviour. Unperturbed, Andy wandered over to Rusty who had been allowed to exit the car unaided, and struck up a conversation about the different kinds of milkshake Shot served. Apparently there were several variations to choose from. Shouldering her purse, Sharon followed the pair towards the bar-restaurant's entrance with minimal trepidation about the evening to come.

They crossed the threshold together, instantly submerged in the river of sound flowing around the room; ice clinking in glasses, the low rumble of conversation, steak sizzling on the grill behind the bar… Sharon let Andy lead the way to what she assumed was the team's usual table, trailing some distance behind him and Rusty as she took in the room.

Shot had apparently changed very little in the last thirty years. The same dark panelling lined the walls as had on her last visit, accented by leather booths (now a rich burgundy instead of black) and a smattering of high-top tables, near the bar. Despite the surprised stares from several LAPD patrons scattered across the room, Sharon found the place to be just as warm and inviting as when she was a rookie.

"Like what you see?"

Andy had doubled back for her, his after-work look now completed by a toothpick that sat in the corner of his mouth. Sharon, of the opinion that toothpicks should be used and then discarded, promptly, ignored the childish urge to flick it away. "There are more female patron's now," she answered, taking in the room again with no small amount of satisfaction. "So yes, Andy – I like what I see."

"You've been here before then?"

"Once or twice." When his eyebrows shot up in surprise, Sharon let out a chuckle – a low, pleasant thing that Andy decided he'd like to hear again. "Is that so hard to believe?" She shook her head, almost wistful. "It was a long time ago – before I was the Wicked Witch."

Andy just about managed to avoid swallowing the toothpick as he choked on his own damn saliva.

"You know, the nickname never bothered me," Sharon continued calmly, as if remarking about the weather or the results of the Super Bowl while her subordinate wasn't coughing up half a lung beside her. "It was a compliment, in its own way. It meant I was doing my job."

Through his wheezing, Andy caught her side-glance as she assessed the damage she'd caused.

"Anyway, we'd best not keep everyone waiting. I'd hate to see what your partner looks like with low blood sugar."

He managed a weak nod as she turned on her heel and headed for the correct booth, greeting the team warmly.

Damn, but she was good.

When he joined the table, slipping silently into the empty seat between Tao and Buzz, Provenza thrust a cold cranberry and soda in his direction. "We ordered while you were horsing around. Hope you wanted the veggie burger."

Andy scowled at the insinuation, making sure the Captain was engrossed in conversation with Rusty before quietly snapping, "I wasn't horsing around, Louis. She knows."

Provenza took a long swallow from his beer, smacking his lips appreciatively. "Knows what, Flynn?"

"About a certain nickname…."

Tao's ears pricked up. "You mean the Wicke-" he was cut off by a well-timed kick to the shin. "Ow. I guess I deserved that."

"Keep your voice down," Andy hissed, shooting a furtive glance towards the Captain. "Yes, 'that' nickname. What other nickname would I be talking about?"

"Calm down," Provenza said dismissively, taking another long swallow of beer. "Of course she knows. It was her job to know. She knew everything. That was why we hated her."

"Hated, past tense?" Buzz queried, rolling his half empty glass between his fingers.

Provenza's ears reddened. "Well- I- Just look at her," he grumbled, jerking his head towards the Captain, who was currently in conversation with Julio and Amy. Three booming guffaws hit the table and Andy was surprised to see Julio's face creased with laughter at something Raydor had said. "If she can win over Julio, and the kid, then she can't be all bad."

"Plus he's realized how much paperwork he'd have to deal with if he was in charge," Tao joked, earning an appreciative smirk from Buzz.

"But do you think she knows that I made up the nickname?"

The three men paused, looking at Andy suspiciously. "Why do you care?" Provenza asked, eyes narrowed.

"I don't," Andy snapped, beginning to get annoyed.

"Well, good."

"Good."

"Great!"

Tao's mumbled 'oh boy' merged with Buzz's longsuffering sigh. Luckily, the bickering was cut short by the arrival of their meals. The table fell silent as everyone became engrossed in eating, brains turning off as appetites took over. Andy found himself staring over at the Captain as he took his first bite of burger, barely noticing the hit of lime salsa spread liberally over across his burger buns. She'd gone for Shot's twist on a Caesar Salad – with garlic shrimp instead of chicken – or rather Rusty must have, as she'd been with him 'horsing around' when everyone else had ordered.

Sensing a pair of eyes on her, Sharon looked up from spearing a croton. Andy lifted his drink in acknowledgement and she responded in kind, breaking eye contact to gently nudge Rusty, beside her. "Don't you have something you want to say to Lieutenant Flynn?"

Rusty, who was by now more than halfway through his double stacked cheeseburger, and busy licking the grease from his fingers, froze. It was a classic Sharon question, one that he had the feeling he was supposed to instinctively know the answer to… and yet didn't. "Uhhh, yeah." His delay drew the attention of the table, and Rusty latched onto the first thing that popped into his head. "Lieutenant, you've got a little salsa on your chin."

His comment was met with resounding silence. Andy blinked, lifting a hand to wipe his face. As his fingers encountered the smudge of condiment just under the swell of his lip, something between a peal of laughter and a snort escaped the Captain. She clamped a hand over her mouth, green eyes wide with embarrassment, but it was too late.

The table exploded with laughter, the Captain's stifled laughter merging with Julio's booming guffaws and Amy's erratic, breathless hiccupping. It was enough to make Rusty join in, though he wasn't quite sure what everyone had found so funny. Wiping her watering eyes, Sharon leaned over to explain, good-naturedly. When he finally cottoned on, shoulders shaking as he hid his head in his hands, she let herself go properly, laughter bubbling up from her belly and spilling out into the evening air.

As her laughter triggered a resurgence of the team's, Sharon was flooded with a sense of family chosen, of lingering grudges dissolving into something new and pliable, of knots working themselves free. Her past with the Major Crimes division had not been the stumbling block she'd expected but, rather, a stepping stone, and she was now quietly optimistic about their future together.

It felt good.