Aftermath.

Inspired by the MC promo for 5x20 (Shockwave part 1)… and maybe that time Laura Roslin and Bill Adama totally scarred the kids ;) Could also be titled: 'How Sharon and Andy finally dropped the L-Bomb' (assuming they haven't already – which is unlikely, I know. But we haven't seen it on screen… Aaah, just go with it, people!).

Andy wasn't sure if it was the hours of uncertainty that had eaten away at his self-control, the frantic, worry-soaked beating of his heart, or a last ditch effort from his adrenal gland, but the moment Sharon emerged from that damn mausoleum, shrouded in a cloud of post-detonation dust like some angelic harbinger of the apocalypse, he started running.

Even from the distance the bomb disposal squad had forced him to adopt "for his safety," he could tell that she was exhausted. Sharon's shoulders had that downward droop that crept over them when the team picked up one too many late night call-outs, and her mouth was drawn into a thin, tight line. Still she walked with purpose, strides lengthening as she caught sight of the team, of him. The resurgence of determination in her steel-set eyes was sexy as hell.

Propriety and heart disease be damned.

Pushing his tired body faster, into a sprint, Andy streaked ahead of the team and the medics and the bomb technicians, who were still sounding the all clear. The noise around him was muted, distance, the colours of the graveyard bleeding into one – all he saw was Sharon; Sharon, who had a jagged cut along her perfect cheekbone; Sharon, whose usually immaculate hair was wild and unkempt; Sharon, who was clearly favouring her right side. Battered and bruised, she rallied, struggling towards him as he barrelled towards her.

The thick, heavy thump of Andy's heartbeat was loud in his ears, but all he heard was Shar-on Shar-on Shar-on-

"Sharon!"

They collided halfway between the blast radius barrier and the mausoleum, Sharon rattling off questions nineteen to the dozen as his hands grasped her shoulders, her arms, skimming off the dust and dirt from her oversized LAPD jacket. "Andy! Are you okay? Are you experiencing any chest pains or breathlessness? Have the EMTs checked your blood-pressure?"

Her jacket was intact. There didn't seem to be any serious damage to her torso… maybe some bruising underneath the layers of clothing. His eyes traced downwards, taking in the holes in her pant-legs and the already well-defined purple mottling beneath. She'd been banged up, all right, but she'd live.

"Andy!"

Sharon's frustrated cry drew his attention to her face. She was breathing hard, lips parted, cheeks flushed, eyes filling up with the fear she had steadfastly refused to shed when it was just her and nine pounds of plastic explosive jerry-rigged in an empty tomb. He felt her begin to tremble and, in that moment, saw his own overriding terror at the thought of losing her reflected back in her haunted, evergreen eyes.

Sharon's life had been in danger but all she'd been worried about was him.

"Hey," he shushed, cradling her upturned face in his hands. "Sweetheart, I'm fine, I'm okay, I hung back like the bomb squad told us to and did those deep breathing exercises you're always going on about. Buzz checked my pulse ten minutes ago – I'm absolutely fine." Reverently he brushed away the white residue from the crevices of her cheeks and nose. "It's you I was-" Andy shook his head, voice giving out. When he spoke again, the words were strained, halting, as if stuck low in his throat. "Sharon," he managed, tracing the cut along her cheek, face crumpling, "I thought- I thought you were gonna-"

Her mouth found his in a desperate collision of lips and teeth and tongue. Andy groaned, his hands sinking into the thick tangle of hair at the nape of her neck, rooting there as he kissed Sharon back with equal ferocity – teeth nipping at the gentle swell of her lower lip, tongue pushing its way past her open, panting mouth… He was sure she would taste like the aftermath of the explosion: bitter and acrid, but he found only sweetness and the subtle salt of her – their – tears.

On and on the kiss went, Sharon's moans spurring him onwards, her fingers running down his spine, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and she could feel the rapid tattoo of his heart against her chest through his bullet proof vest. Sharon decided then and there that his heartbeat was the most beautiful thing she had ever felt.

"I love you," Andy gasped out as they broke for air, the sweet scent of her breath puffing hotly against his lips. Sharon 'hmmed' in response, eyes shut, forehead pressed tightly against his.

"Andy…"

"Ah, Captain?"

The unwelcome throat-clearing of an EMT ruined the moment. Sharon peeked over Andy's shoulder, feeling the heat rise to her face as she made eye contact with the embarrassed medic hovering a few feet away… and then Provenza and Julio and the team. Amy and Tao were both grinning widely but Buzz looked distinctly uncomfortable.

She glanced away, pressing her lips together. "One moment, please."

Smoothing her hands across Andy's shoulders and chest, she lifted her gaze to his. He was looking at her with such adoration in his melting-pot eyes that she found herself breathing his name like a prayer. Words failing her, she lifted onto her tiptoes to press a slow, tender kiss to his dear mouth. "Andy, I love you too. So very, very much."

The smile that swept across his face was brighter than the sun.

Sharon patted his chest fondly, curling her hand into his. "Lead the way", she instructed to the EMT as they turned to face the small gathering, heads held high.

"Guess you won't be needing that letter after all," Provenza muttered, slapping Andy on the back as they passed.

"Letter?" Sharon asked curiously.

Andy shook his head. "It doesn't matter now, but I'll tell you all about it later. Let's get those bruises of yours checked over first, hm?"

Settling against his shoulder with her hand above his heart, Sharon decided that wasn't a bad idea at all.