RF Such Is My Life, pt. 12
Title: Such Is My Life
Pairing: The Closer - Raydor/Flynn
Rating: M for language, sexual situations
Part 12
Daniel’s call goes to voicemail, so he immediately sends a text. He wants to go home, but Flynn tells him they are staying put and eating pizza. When Danny starts to doze, Flynn guides him down the hall to the room Jesse uses on the rare times he’s over. He watches his son kick off his shoes and fall on the bed, asleep in minutes. “Guess running away is hard work after all,” Andy smirks, closing the door before heading back to the living room. He picks up his phone to call Sharon when Danny’s phone starts to ring.
“I’m on my way,” she rushes out as soon as she hears the call connect. “Okay, don’t you dare move.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Flynn, where’s Danny? Why do you have his phone? Put him on right now!”
“Danny is asleep, so no, I won’t put him on. He’s ok and since you’re on your way you can see for yourself when you get here.”
“Why is he at your apartment and how do I get there?”
Flynn rolls his eyes at her quick fire questions, reminding himself that she is a distraught mother and so he has to tread lightly. He takes a breath and gives her directions, then hangs up, grabs a slice of pizza and waits for the storm that’s coming.
Sharon is a whirlwind when she hits the steps leading to his door. “Calm down,” Andy says, meeting her in the doorway. “He’s asleep and I think you should just let him stay that way.”
“Get out of my way, Flynn.”
“Sharon, don’t,” he grabs her as she tries to go past him, spinning her around just inside the living room.
“I mean it, Flynn, you do not want in the middle of this! Now let me go!” she seethes, struggling to get away from him. He tightens his hold on her wrists, clamping her hands behind her back at her waist. Sharon dances away from him, trying to sidestep her way down the hall.
“Take a breath, Sharon. He’s ok. He was just stupid, you know, the way Provenza can be sometimes.”
“No, he doesn’t get off that easy,” she scowls, trying to pull and twist her arms free of him. Flynn grips her tighter. “That hurts.”
“So stop fighting me,” he replies. “What are you going to do anyway? You know you can’t really strangle him.”
“I can strangle him a little.” Sharon huffs, sending some of the hair that has slipped to cover her face flying. Flynn can’t hold back his grin.
“And you! How long has he been here? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Come again?” Flynn cocks his head, then quickly maneuvers toward the kitchen when Sharon lunges for the hallway. Their momentum carries them toward his small kitchen table, slamming Sharon’s back against the retro metal frame. “Shit, sorry, sorry,” he says, letting go of one arm to grab her shoulder and pull her back. Sharon pushes off him, doing her best to get around him. “Oh! Fuck no you don’t,” Flynn blocks her with his knee, trapping Sharon between his body and the table.
“Lieutenant!”
“Andy.”
“Asshole.”
“Just when exactly did all this become my fault?”
“Since you won’t let me see my son,” Sharon’s voice is low and worse than if she were yelling, because if she were yelling he’d dismiss her as being homicidal.
“You mean since I won’t let you do bodily harm to our son.” Flynn notices he’s breathing just as hard as she is, their breaths coming in quick shallow intakes. Her face is flushed, her eyes dangerous behind the dark frames of her glasses. When Sharon bolts again Flynn grabs her round her waist with both hands and picks her up, sitting her on the table. The quick move throws her, giving him enough time to brace his hands on her legs and pin her in place. “Now for godsake calm down.”
“My son has been missing all day,” Sharon spits out, her words on the verge of hysteria as she pushes at Flynn’s shoulders, “and you expect me to calm down.” Tears threatening to spill, she jerks at her glasses, tossing them on the table as she wipes at her eyes.
“He’s ok, Sharon, and I promise I laid into him the second I walked in and saw him here. But he’s ok. And you’re going to be ok. Just take a breath.”
“Stop telling me to calm down! You started this, you, you bastard.”
“What happened to asshole?” Flynn says with a smirk that sends the blaze in Sharon’s eyes to an all consuming level. Mentally he reminds himself that even a sarcastic smirk is not a wise move when she’s in such a state.
“If it hadn’t been for you and that damn Provenza! Why did you do this to me?” She slaps at his shoulder, balling her fist to hit him, once, twice and then again for good measure. ‘Danny was right,’ Flynn thinks as he winces from the blow, ‘she does have a mean right hook.’ Her physical attack, which although not pleasant, doesn’t hurt him but it does flair his annoyance.
“Me do this to you? Why didn’t you answer the damn phone or, I don’t know, take a few minutes to send a text that explained more than I’ll tell you later!” He grabs her arm, jerking her just enough to let her know he’s doing his best to control his own anger. “You weren’t the only one in the dark and worried out of your mind! I didn’t know what was going on with either of you!”
The intensity in his eyes causes Sharon to swallow whatever comeback she intended to say. Staring down at her staring back up at him, seeing her dark green blouse wrinkled, her hair disheveled and her gray skirt skewed, Flynn does the first thing that pops in his mind.
“You make me crazy,” he says before clamping his lips to hers. Sharon squeals, the sound muffled against his mouth, and pounds her fits into his sides at least twice before gathering up his shirt and holding tight. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” Flynn mumbles against her lips, his fingers moving to cup the back of her head and hold her close to him. Sharon kisses back, hard and urgent, in an effort to stem the tears and raw emotion threatening to consume her. Hands in his hair, she holds him to her, as if he is an anchor that will prevent her from drifting away. Flynn deepens the kiss, brushing his hand along her sides as he tightens his hold on her waist. Sharon hums, leaning into him, lightly nipping at his lower lip then turning softer, gentle with her kisses.
Flynn eases back, brushing his lips against hers before gathering up the courage to inch away from her. He slides his hands to Sharon’s shoulders, asking, “okay?”
She shakes her head. “Is he really okay?”
Flynn nods, “he’s confused and probably did the most boneheaded thing he could, but he’s okay. Not a scratch or hair out of place. I’m sorry he did that to you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you for help.” Sharon’s lip quivers, her eyes watering.
“And about calling me a bastard?”
“Don’t push it.”
“Can I let you down?”
“Is he in the first or second door on the right?” Sharon asks and she shifts as if she is going to get down from the table.
Flynn sighs, “Seriously?”
“You do not understand what he did to me,” she replies, the fire in her eyes edging back. Flynn cups her face and stares at her, trying to think of something to say. Sharon uses his hesitancy to make another move off the table. Muttering another curse, Flynn pushes her back into place, muffling whatever annoyed reply she attempts to make with a kiss. Sharon balls up the front of his button-up shirt in her fist, not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Letting out a sound that is near primal, she pushes against Flynn’s chest with one hand while pulling him back to her with her other.
He mumbles her name against her lips, his hand cupping the back of her hair, tangling the strands in his fingers. He could kiss her for forever if she’d let him. “You can’t strangle him,” he whispers, holding her in place. She grabs his waist, pulling him closer.
“I could really hate you,” she replies, leaning hard into him. The move brings her closer to the table’s edge. Flynn pushes her back, his hand sliding to the hem of her skirt and then under it.
“Oh my my,” he says, positioning himself between her legs. “I’ve been thinking about this for too long.” He runs his hand further under the gray fabric and to cup her hip.
“Have you?” Sharon shivers at his touch. His mouth teases hers as she starts to feel her anger recede. “You sure he’s asleep?” she murmurs against Flynn’s cheek.
“I think so.” He opens his eyes, seeing Sharon Raydor instead of a wounded wildcat bent on destruction. “Can I let you go?”
“What if you don’t,” she says, her hormones still overriding her common sense as she returns his kiss. Flynn grips her hip and pulls her tight against him, his lips venturing down her throat as she grabs his shoulder to keep her balance.
“Bedroom?”
“I’m good here,” he replies, his thumb hooking then pulling at her panties. He moves just enough to slip them down her legs and onto the floor. “Little help?” Flynn grins as he starts unbuttoning her blouse. Sharon goes for the buttons on his shirt, making quick work of undressing him and pushing the fabric off his shoulders. While Flynn cups her breasts, she loosens his belt and unzips his pants. He pushes at her shirt, then at her bra, not waiting for her to unhook the back, instead pushing his fingers under the material to caress her flesh.
She sighs at the feel of his touch and wraps her leg around his as she pulls his lips to hers. Flynn hikes her skirt as far up her thighs as it will go as she pushes down his boxers and guides him into her. Sharon bites her lip, her fingers biting into his shoulder as he pushes his way inside.
She isn’t sure how long she leans on him afterwards, but her breathing is steadier when she finally raises her head.
“You calmer now?” Flynn quips.
“Not really,” she replies.
“Homicidal?” Flynn asks as he grabs a nearby towel, handing it to her before helping her to her feet.
“Not so much,” Sharon says as she cleans up and puts her clothes back in place. “You do have a bed, right?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Good. Mind if I sleep over?” He gives her a long once over which makes her quirk her brow and take up her familiar stance with hands on hips. “What?”
“Should I hide the knives?”
Sharon rolls her eyes. “You’re safe,” she quips.
“And the kid?”
She takes a moment, as if giving it serious thought and that concerns him. “Nah, I can’t figure a way out of it, so,” Sharon sighs as if in defeat, “I guess he can live, too.” Flynn just stares at her.
“Was that a joke?”
She doesn’t answer, just cocks her head and offers a small grin. “I want to look in on him. First or second door?”
“First,” Flynn says after another long moment. “That was a joke, right?”
“I’m unarmed,” she replies, slipping past him.
Pairing: The Closer - Raydor/Flynn
Rating: M for language, sexual situations
Part 12
Daniel’s call goes to voicemail, so he immediately sends a text. He wants to go home, but Flynn tells him they are staying put and eating pizza. When Danny starts to doze, Flynn guides him down the hall to the room Jesse uses on the rare times he’s over. He watches his son kick off his shoes and fall on the bed, asleep in minutes. “Guess running away is hard work after all,” Andy smirks, closing the door before heading back to the living room. He picks up his phone to call Sharon when Danny’s phone starts to ring.
“I’m on my way,” she rushes out as soon as she hears the call connect. “Okay, don’t you dare move.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Flynn, where’s Danny? Why do you have his phone? Put him on right now!”
“Danny is asleep, so no, I won’t put him on. He’s ok and since you’re on your way you can see for yourself when you get here.”
“Why is he at your apartment and how do I get there?”
Flynn rolls his eyes at her quick fire questions, reminding himself that she is a distraught mother and so he has to tread lightly. He takes a breath and gives her directions, then hangs up, grabs a slice of pizza and waits for the storm that’s coming.
Sharon is a whirlwind when she hits the steps leading to his door. “Calm down,” Andy says, meeting her in the doorway. “He’s asleep and I think you should just let him stay that way.”
“Get out of my way, Flynn.”
“Sharon, don’t,” he grabs her as she tries to go past him, spinning her around just inside the living room.
“I mean it, Flynn, you do not want in the middle of this! Now let me go!” she seethes, struggling to get away from him. He tightens his hold on her wrists, clamping her hands behind her back at her waist. Sharon dances away from him, trying to sidestep her way down the hall.
“Take a breath, Sharon. He’s ok. He was just stupid, you know, the way Provenza can be sometimes.”
“No, he doesn’t get off that easy,” she scowls, trying to pull and twist her arms free of him. Flynn grips her tighter. “That hurts.”
“So stop fighting me,” he replies. “What are you going to do anyway? You know you can’t really strangle him.”
“I can strangle him a little.” Sharon huffs, sending some of the hair that has slipped to cover her face flying. Flynn can’t hold back his grin.
“And you! How long has he been here? Why didn’t you call me?”
“Come again?” Flynn cocks his head, then quickly maneuvers toward the kitchen when Sharon lunges for the hallway. Their momentum carries them toward his small kitchen table, slamming Sharon’s back against the retro metal frame. “Shit, sorry, sorry,” he says, letting go of one arm to grab her shoulder and pull her back. Sharon pushes off him, doing her best to get around him. “Oh! Fuck no you don’t,” Flynn blocks her with his knee, trapping Sharon between his body and the table.
“Lieutenant!”
“Andy.”
“Asshole.”
“Just when exactly did all this become my fault?”
“Since you won’t let me see my son,” Sharon’s voice is low and worse than if she were yelling, because if she were yelling he’d dismiss her as being homicidal.
“You mean since I won’t let you do bodily harm to our son.” Flynn notices he’s breathing just as hard as she is, their breaths coming in quick shallow intakes. Her face is flushed, her eyes dangerous behind the dark frames of her glasses. When Sharon bolts again Flynn grabs her round her waist with both hands and picks her up, sitting her on the table. The quick move throws her, giving him enough time to brace his hands on her legs and pin her in place. “Now for godsake calm down.”
“My son has been missing all day,” Sharon spits out, her words on the verge of hysteria as she pushes at Flynn’s shoulders, “and you expect me to calm down.” Tears threatening to spill, she jerks at her glasses, tossing them on the table as she wipes at her eyes.
“He’s ok, Sharon, and I promise I laid into him the second I walked in and saw him here. But he’s ok. And you’re going to be ok. Just take a breath.”
“Stop telling me to calm down! You started this, you, you bastard.”
“What happened to asshole?” Flynn says with a smirk that sends the blaze in Sharon’s eyes to an all consuming level. Mentally he reminds himself that even a sarcastic smirk is not a wise move when she’s in such a state.
“If it hadn’t been for you and that damn Provenza! Why did you do this to me?” She slaps at his shoulder, balling her fist to hit him, once, twice and then again for good measure. ‘Danny was right,’ Flynn thinks as he winces from the blow, ‘she does have a mean right hook.’ Her physical attack, which although not pleasant, doesn’t hurt him but it does flair his annoyance.
“Me do this to you? Why didn’t you answer the damn phone or, I don’t know, take a few minutes to send a text that explained more than I’ll tell you later!” He grabs her arm, jerking her just enough to let her know he’s doing his best to control his own anger. “You weren’t the only one in the dark and worried out of your mind! I didn’t know what was going on with either of you!”
The intensity in his eyes causes Sharon to swallow whatever comeback she intended to say. Staring down at her staring back up at him, seeing her dark green blouse wrinkled, her hair disheveled and her gray skirt skewed, Flynn does the first thing that pops in his mind.
“You make me crazy,” he says before clamping his lips to hers. Sharon squeals, the sound muffled against his mouth, and pounds her fits into his sides at least twice before gathering up his shirt and holding tight. “Don’t ever do that to me again,” Flynn mumbles against her lips, his fingers moving to cup the back of her head and hold her close to him. Sharon kisses back, hard and urgent, in an effort to stem the tears and raw emotion threatening to consume her. Hands in his hair, she holds him to her, as if he is an anchor that will prevent her from drifting away. Flynn deepens the kiss, brushing his hand along her sides as he tightens his hold on her waist. Sharon hums, leaning into him, lightly nipping at his lower lip then turning softer, gentle with her kisses.
Flynn eases back, brushing his lips against hers before gathering up the courage to inch away from her. He slides his hands to Sharon’s shoulders, asking, “okay?”
She shakes her head. “Is he really okay?”
Flynn nods, “he’s confused and probably did the most boneheaded thing he could, but he’s okay. Not a scratch or hair out of place. I’m sorry he did that to you.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t ask you for help.” Sharon’s lip quivers, her eyes watering.
“And about calling me a bastard?”
“Don’t push it.”
“Can I let you down?”
“Is he in the first or second door on the right?” Sharon asks and she shifts as if she is going to get down from the table.
Flynn sighs, “Seriously?”
“You do not understand what he did to me,” she replies, the fire in her eyes edging back. Flynn cups her face and stares at her, trying to think of something to say. Sharon uses his hesitancy to make another move off the table. Muttering another curse, Flynn pushes her back into place, muffling whatever annoyed reply she attempts to make with a kiss. Sharon balls up the front of his button-up shirt in her fist, not sure if she wants to push him away or pull him closer. Letting out a sound that is near primal, she pushes against Flynn’s chest with one hand while pulling him back to her with her other.
He mumbles her name against her lips, his hand cupping the back of her hair, tangling the strands in his fingers. He could kiss her for forever if she’d let him. “You can’t strangle him,” he whispers, holding her in place. She grabs his waist, pulling him closer.
“I could really hate you,” she replies, leaning hard into him. The move brings her closer to the table’s edge. Flynn pushes her back, his hand sliding to the hem of her skirt and then under it.
“Oh my my,” he says, positioning himself between her legs. “I’ve been thinking about this for too long.” He runs his hand further under the gray fabric and to cup her hip.
“Have you?” Sharon shivers at his touch. His mouth teases hers as she starts to feel her anger recede. “You sure he’s asleep?” she murmurs against Flynn’s cheek.
“I think so.” He opens his eyes, seeing Sharon Raydor instead of a wounded wildcat bent on destruction. “Can I let you go?”
“What if you don’t,” she says, her hormones still overriding her common sense as she returns his kiss. Flynn grips her hip and pulls her tight against him, his lips venturing down her throat as she grabs his shoulder to keep her balance.
“Bedroom?”
“I’m good here,” he replies, his thumb hooking then pulling at her panties. He moves just enough to slip them down her legs and onto the floor. “Little help?” Flynn grins as he starts unbuttoning her blouse. Sharon goes for the buttons on his shirt, making quick work of undressing him and pushing the fabric off his shoulders. While Flynn cups her breasts, she loosens his belt and unzips his pants. He pushes at her shirt, then at her bra, not waiting for her to unhook the back, instead pushing his fingers under the material to caress her flesh.
She sighs at the feel of his touch and wraps her leg around his as she pulls his lips to hers. Flynn hikes her skirt as far up her thighs as it will go as she pushes down his boxers and guides him into her. Sharon bites her lip, her fingers biting into his shoulder as he pushes his way inside.
She isn’t sure how long she leans on him afterwards, but her breathing is steadier when she finally raises her head.
“You calmer now?” Flynn quips.
“Not really,” she replies.
“Homicidal?” Flynn asks as he grabs a nearby towel, handing it to her before helping her to her feet.
“Not so much,” Sharon says as she cleans up and puts her clothes back in place. “You do have a bed, right?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“Good. Mind if I sleep over?” He gives her a long once over which makes her quirk her brow and take up her familiar stance with hands on hips. “What?”
“Should I hide the knives?”
Sharon rolls her eyes. “You’re safe,” she quips.
“And the kid?”
She takes a moment, as if giving it serious thought and that concerns him. “Nah, I can’t figure a way out of it, so,” Sharon sighs as if in defeat, “I guess he can live, too.” Flynn just stares at her.
“Was that a joke?”
She doesn’t answer, just cocks her head and offers a small grin. “I want to look in on him. First or second door?”
“First,” Flynn says after another long moment. “That was a joke, right?”
“I’m unarmed,” she replies, slipping past him.