amop-series #52
/TO SERVE WITH LOVE/
Andrew Flynn moved along the rack of dark-grey suits that hung in the middle of the store, Sharon Raydor by his side following him with a slow strut in the heels she had selected for the day somewhat higher than her usual work-heels. They suited Andy’s mood perfectly, black and sleek with the ominous red under the surface. That and she looked stunning with a complimentary dark dress and blazer, her arm sneaked through his while she sashayed and occasionally pointed out a suit she found to her liking. He didn’t mind having her on his arm, not in the least.
Andy narrowed his eyes and threw a feigned glare over his shoulder at her, “So, I’m still waiting.”
Sharon pretended innocence but she could not hide the way her lips twitched with amusement at his expense or the way her eyes crinkled with humor.
“Exactly what are you waiting for, lieutenant Flynn?” she asked in a too sweet tone, the fake innocent expression doing enough mocking on its own but no, she had to balance it by the lonely eyebrow that twitched upwards mimicking flirtatious appraisal.
Andy rolled his eyes at her obvious tactic - the whole pretending to not know a damn thing when she knew everything there was to know. She might have honed this little trick of hers but he was too familiar with her to not know when she was playing him.
“I’m waiting for the explicit lecture on karma being a bitch, that’s what,” Andy explained nonetheless, moving on to the next suit, a finger gliding along the material while he bestowed an analytical look at the design and cut.
Sharon laughed beside him, the tone merry, “Oh, I think you are doing great lecture-wise on your own, lieutenant. No need for me to butt in, hmm.”
Andy huffed, “Yeah, I’m an idiot, alright.”
“Oh, honey,” she soothed in a placating tone while her fingers caressed his wrist, “Don’t be sour.”
“Pah,” he grunted and looked sideways at her, “I’m excessively sour.”
Her mouth pursed.
Andy sighed, “I’m going to end up in debilitating debt.”
Sharon shook her head in disbelief, “Debt on account of one little tear in one out of a thousand jackets that you own? I hardly see the connection between that and debilitating debt.”
Andy grinned, “You wouldn’t. You are too rich to understand my problem.”
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a dark look, “I’m not that rich. I’m sensible with my money, unlike others.”
“I’m sensible too,” Andy pointed out.
It fell flat however, judging by her disagreeing look.
“You are hardly what I would call sensible,” she told him, the twitching mouth becoming a smile, “you are however whining for no apparent reason.”
Andy sighed in a dramatic volume and hurriedly ran his hand through a least a dozen suits, his mouth turning downwards as he went through the whole stack and found none to his liking even if it was a goddamn expensive designer he usually liked.
“I am not whining,” he said in a petulant voice that did sound rather like whining to his own ears.
“Of course not,” Sharon replied in a sagely tone as she patted his wrist again.
“Okay, okay, I’m whining alright. And I suppose it’s not even the money that bothers me the most,” Andy confessed when Sharon continued to give him an all-knowing smile that bordered on condescending, “it’s the fact that yet again Provenza’s managed to pull me into another one of his hair brained schemes.”
“Yes, I’d imagine that would be the rub.”
Andy huffed, and then made a beeline for another rack of hanging suits in sand colors. Sharon held onto his arm and took a few hurried steps to keep up with him, her eyes narrowing in disapproval at the swift movement.
“It just eludes me. I knew from the get go it was going to be a damn disaster and what do I do - huh? I jump right in with two feet like a first grade moron.”
“I think disaster is a bit of an overstatement, don’t you?” Sharon hummed as her eyes landed on a specific suit. She nudged him and drew him toward it and Andy pulled it out, giving it a good look.
“I guess it would do,” he shrugged at the suit.
“Careful, too much enthusiasm and I might just combust,” she commented dryly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Andy retorted back, “you are a riot today. No need to rub it in.”
“Well, lieutenant, I am not forcing you to try on a new suit. You forced me to tag along to this, remember.”
Andy ignored her comment and then with a raised eyebrow, “So you don’t think the last couple of days have been an utter disaster? Is that what you are trying to say? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It depends on your definition of disaster, I would daresay.”
Andy shook his head, “Stop being elusive and funny and sarcastic at the same time. Just spit it out.”
“I’m saying,” she drawled, her tone vibrating with an undertone of enjoyment, “that you have done a lot of things over the years that have been far more idiotic. Why, this time it’s barely detectable on the Richter scale of you and lieutenant Provenza making a mess of things. It’s a little pile of mess in an enormous pile of mess, if you will.”
“You are being downright gleeful,” Andy complained, “Gleeful and goddamn smug.”
She hummed in affirmation, the tone light and on the brink of turning into a giggle.
“Geez,” Andy said to the ceiling in exasperation but he couldn’t help but smile back at her, his facial muscles having a will of their own.
Andy snapped the suit Sharon had pointed out from the rack and moved down the lines of suits, toward the far back and the fitting rooms, the sound of Sharon’s heels in yet another hurried staccato on the floor.
“Are you in a hurry?” she puffed out, her fingers tightening around his arm.
“Nah,” Andy grinned over his shoulder, “but I enjoy making you run in those killer heels.”
“And I will enjoy stepping on your feet with my killer heels if you do not stop,” she threw back at him, the twinkle in her eyes making it impossible to know whether she was serious or not. To be on the safe side Andy slowed down and leaned his shoulder against hers with a smile, “I’ll slow down for you then, hmm.”
“Thank you,” she said in the least sincere voice she could manage.
They approached the row of fitting rooms, an attendant giving them an eager smile. Andy gave the boy a get lost wave and chose a room to his right, throwing the black curtain aside. He stuck his tongue out at Sharon and then quickly stepped inside the cubicle before she could respond.
“So,” Andy ventured in a hesitant tone as he started undressing, “you are taking this whole thing remarkably well, you know, when you are all up in arms with the whole transparency audit.”
Andy could hear her sigh from the other side of the curtain, “If I had to be overly concerned everytime an officer made a bad decision, why I would be in chronic treatment for stress-induced gastric ulcers.”
“Yeah, okay,” Andy shook his head, wondering what she meant by that, “so you are not concerned by what happened?”
“Your supplementary, erm,” she paused looking for a word, “your supplementary activity has solved itself have it not?” she asked him in a formal voice, the question sounding more rhetorical than anything.
“I guess.”
“Then I see no need to examine it further. I have plenty of other things to do than waste my time investigating the extracurricular buffoonery you take part in with lieutenant Provenza.”
Andy pursed his mouth, “Buffoonery? Really!”
“Do you have a more accurate word to describe what happens every other blue moon when you and Provenza lose your common sense? Not to mention conveniently throwing your conduct out the window? I’m open to suggestions.”
Her tone was remarkably snarky - which really only meant maybe she was not that calm about the whole deal.
“Buffoonery is fine,” Andy quickly relented and pulled on the pants to the new suit, doing up the zipper as he shook his head.
“So it won’t influence the audit?” Andy asked, curious and apprehensive.
“Andy,” Sharon said his name with a prolonged inflection, “the conduct of your division is not going to be pulled into question in regards to you and lieutenant Provenza seeking outside employment. That is not the issue of my transparency audit at the moment.”
It just sounded too good to be true.
“Really?”
“Really,” she stressed but then added, “unless you feel it should be?”
“Nope,” he quickly told her as he put his arm though one jacket sleeve.
“However,” she said in a lecturing tone, “I would suggest you behave from now on. Think before you act and remember that the conduct of your division is in fact being investigated and it would be best for all if you laid low. ”
“Duly noted.”
Sharon peeked through the curtain, her fingers curled around the cloth as she drew it an inch to the side, “Are you about done?”
Andy spun around, hands on his hips as he regarded her, “Who is in a hurry now?”
“You promised me lunch,” she said with another too innocent smile.
Andy rolled his eyes, “After I found a suit. I promised you lunch after shopping not before or in the middle of it.”
She pouted in return.
“So,” Andy spread his arms out, “what do you think?”
She pulled the curtain all the way to the side and took a step back to regard him, her eyes going up and down in a slow trail. She hummed when her eyes reached his, “Not bad.”
“Not bad,” Andy repeated in disbelief.
She smiled coyly, her arms crossed, “You would need a different shirt and tie to go with that color than the ones you are wearing.”
Andy rolled his eyes, “I know. That’s why the whole thing is a bother; not only do I need a new suit but it’s the whole ensemble I’ve gotta buy.”
Sharon grinned, “You said something about karma earlier.”
Andy shook his head and took a step towards her, “You are the devil incarnate.” His smile turned sly and he quickly grabbed her by the waist and drew her closer, turning them around and leaning down to capture her lips.
The sound of his name became muffled by the kiss, her protest at this obvious display of affection out in public easily assuaged as Andy pulled them inside the cubicle and closed the curtain after them.
“I am certain this establishment only allows one person per fitting room,” Sharon commented in a breathy voice when they let go of the kiss for air.
“You are such a stickler for rules,” Andy replied and slanted his mouth on hers again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as his hands roamed down over rounded hips before they came to rest on her ass.
She curled her hand around the back of his nape, a hum into his mouth that was easy to interpret - even more so when she outlined his impending erection through the cloth of the new pants.
“About that talk,” Andy said into her ear, half of a mind to simply forget any notion of serious talk. But somehow, timing struck him to be opportune. It was now or never - she had done an expert job of avoiding the issue so far.
“Talk?” she feigned ignorance but he caught the hesitant look she gave him when she leaned back from him, her lips pursing into contemplation.
“Sharon,” Andy said in a low voice, “Christmas was a long time ago and we’ve been fucking more than simply once since then, okay, so whatever we’ve got going it’s more than a one time thing. Why, New Year’s especially was a delight, I must confess. But don’t you think instead of thinking up excuses of why we should be allowed to make love - don’t you think it would better to agree to just, you know, be in a relationship.”
She remained silent, her bottom lip disappearing for a while as she drew it under her teeth.
“Why do we have to be miserable or lonely or going to funerals for us to be intimate?”
She looked down, a small sigh escaping, “I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s simple and easy from where I’m standing, honey. I love you. I know I said I would be patient but let’s stop pretending we are only friends who fuck occasioanlly.”
“I know, I know,” she said again, this time a small smile at the corner of her lips, “It’s just easier to pretend sometimes.”
Andy leaned close and kissed the edge of her mouth, “I will pretend to be a fucking sod particle for you but you wanted to talk about you and me, and us, remember - and you’ve neglected to bring it up.”
“I chickened out,” the smile widened and she caressed his neck as if on afterthought, her fingers light on his skin. Her expression was pensive.
“I’m not saying I won’t be an asshole every now and then but I promise to keep it to a bare minimum,” Andy promised her, eliciting a soft laugh from her.
He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, “So?”
She opened her mouth about to reply.
Someone cleared their throat in loud disapproval, “I would like to remind you, sir and ma’am, that you are only allowed one person per fitting room.”
Sharon looked sufficiently chastised, jumping away from him in a quick second with a small look of horror.
Andy grinned and watched her pull the curtain aside in a rapid move, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Her self-aware smile was adorable. The store attendant stood stone-faced and gave them a nod before he moved away a good couple of meters to a table, able to supervise the fitting rooms with a raised eyebrow that seemed condescending.
Andy smiled, “So, is that a yes to the suit?”
Sharon nodded and then she inhaled rather noticeable before she spoke, “Yes, it’s a sure fit,” she paused and her smile curled even more, “So today is officially a date.”
Andy grinned, “Yeah. Imagine that, huh.”
...
=)
Andrew Flynn moved along the rack of dark-grey suits that hung in the middle of the store, Sharon Raydor by his side following him with a slow strut in the heels she had selected for the day somewhat higher than her usual work-heels. They suited Andy’s mood perfectly, black and sleek with the ominous red under the surface. That and she looked stunning with a complimentary dark dress and blazer, her arm sneaked through his while she sashayed and occasionally pointed out a suit she found to her liking. He didn’t mind having her on his arm, not in the least.
Andy narrowed his eyes and threw a feigned glare over his shoulder at her, “So, I’m still waiting.”
Sharon pretended innocence but she could not hide the way her lips twitched with amusement at his expense or the way her eyes crinkled with humor.
“Exactly what are you waiting for, lieutenant Flynn?” she asked in a too sweet tone, the fake innocent expression doing enough mocking on its own but no, she had to balance it by the lonely eyebrow that twitched upwards mimicking flirtatious appraisal.
Andy rolled his eyes at her obvious tactic - the whole pretending to not know a damn thing when she knew everything there was to know. She might have honed this little trick of hers but he was too familiar with her to not know when she was playing him.
“I’m waiting for the explicit lecture on karma being a bitch, that’s what,” Andy explained nonetheless, moving on to the next suit, a finger gliding along the material while he bestowed an analytical look at the design and cut.
Sharon laughed beside him, the tone merry, “Oh, I think you are doing great lecture-wise on your own, lieutenant. No need for me to butt in, hmm.”
Andy huffed, “Yeah, I’m an idiot, alright.”
“Oh, honey,” she soothed in a placating tone while her fingers caressed his wrist, “Don’t be sour.”
“Pah,” he grunted and looked sideways at her, “I’m excessively sour.”
Her mouth pursed.
Andy sighed, “I’m going to end up in debilitating debt.”
Sharon shook her head in disbelief, “Debt on account of one little tear in one out of a thousand jackets that you own? I hardly see the connection between that and debilitating debt.”
Andy grinned, “You wouldn’t. You are too rich to understand my problem.”
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a dark look, “I’m not that rich. I’m sensible with my money, unlike others.”
“I’m sensible too,” Andy pointed out.
It fell flat however, judging by her disagreeing look.
“You are hardly what I would call sensible,” she told him, the twitching mouth becoming a smile, “you are however whining for no apparent reason.”
Andy sighed in a dramatic volume and hurriedly ran his hand through a least a dozen suits, his mouth turning downwards as he went through the whole stack and found none to his liking even if it was a goddamn expensive designer he usually liked.
“I am not whining,” he said in a petulant voice that did sound rather like whining to his own ears.
“Of course not,” Sharon replied in a sagely tone as she patted his wrist again.
“Okay, okay, I’m whining alright. And I suppose it’s not even the money that bothers me the most,” Andy confessed when Sharon continued to give him an all-knowing smile that bordered on condescending, “it’s the fact that yet again Provenza’s managed to pull me into another one of his hair brained schemes.”
“Yes, I’d imagine that would be the rub.”
Andy huffed, and then made a beeline for another rack of hanging suits in sand colors. Sharon held onto his arm and took a few hurried steps to keep up with him, her eyes narrowing in disapproval at the swift movement.
“It just eludes me. I knew from the get go it was going to be a damn disaster and what do I do - huh? I jump right in with two feet like a first grade moron.”
“I think disaster is a bit of an overstatement, don’t you?” Sharon hummed as her eyes landed on a specific suit. She nudged him and drew him toward it and Andy pulled it out, giving it a good look.
“I guess it would do,” he shrugged at the suit.
“Careful, too much enthusiasm and I might just combust,” she commented dryly.
“Yeah, yeah,” Andy retorted back, “you are a riot today. No need to rub it in.”
“Well, lieutenant, I am not forcing you to try on a new suit. You forced me to tag along to this, remember.”
Andy ignored her comment and then with a raised eyebrow, “So you don’t think the last couple of days have been an utter disaster? Is that what you are trying to say? That doesn’t sound like you.”
“It depends on your definition of disaster, I would daresay.”
Andy shook his head, “Stop being elusive and funny and sarcastic at the same time. Just spit it out.”
“I’m saying,” she drawled, her tone vibrating with an undertone of enjoyment, “that you have done a lot of things over the years that have been far more idiotic. Why, this time it’s barely detectable on the Richter scale of you and lieutenant Provenza making a mess of things. It’s a little pile of mess in an enormous pile of mess, if you will.”
“You are being downright gleeful,” Andy complained, “Gleeful and goddamn smug.”
She hummed in affirmation, the tone light and on the brink of turning into a giggle.
“Geez,” Andy said to the ceiling in exasperation but he couldn’t help but smile back at her, his facial muscles having a will of their own.
Andy snapped the suit Sharon had pointed out from the rack and moved down the lines of suits, toward the far back and the fitting rooms, the sound of Sharon’s heels in yet another hurried staccato on the floor.
“Are you in a hurry?” she puffed out, her fingers tightening around his arm.
“Nah,” Andy grinned over his shoulder, “but I enjoy making you run in those killer heels.”
“And I will enjoy stepping on your feet with my killer heels if you do not stop,” she threw back at him, the twinkle in her eyes making it impossible to know whether she was serious or not. To be on the safe side Andy slowed down and leaned his shoulder against hers with a smile, “I’ll slow down for you then, hmm.”
“Thank you,” she said in the least sincere voice she could manage.
They approached the row of fitting rooms, an attendant giving them an eager smile. Andy gave the boy a get lost wave and chose a room to his right, throwing the black curtain aside. He stuck his tongue out at Sharon and then quickly stepped inside the cubicle before she could respond.
“So,” Andy ventured in a hesitant tone as he started undressing, “you are taking this whole thing remarkably well, you know, when you are all up in arms with the whole transparency audit.”
Andy could hear her sigh from the other side of the curtain, “If I had to be overly concerned everytime an officer made a bad decision, why I would be in chronic treatment for stress-induced gastric ulcers.”
“Yeah, okay,” Andy shook his head, wondering what she meant by that, “so you are not concerned by what happened?”
“Your supplementary, erm,” she paused looking for a word, “your supplementary activity has solved itself have it not?” she asked him in a formal voice, the question sounding more rhetorical than anything.
“I guess.”
“Then I see no need to examine it further. I have plenty of other things to do than waste my time investigating the extracurricular buffoonery you take part in with lieutenant Provenza.”
Andy pursed his mouth, “Buffoonery? Really!”
“Do you have a more accurate word to describe what happens every other blue moon when you and Provenza lose your common sense? Not to mention conveniently throwing your conduct out the window? I’m open to suggestions.”
Her tone was remarkably snarky - which really only meant maybe she was not that calm about the whole deal.
“Buffoonery is fine,” Andy quickly relented and pulled on the pants to the new suit, doing up the zipper as he shook his head.
“So it won’t influence the audit?” Andy asked, curious and apprehensive.
“Andy,” Sharon said his name with a prolonged inflection, “the conduct of your division is not going to be pulled into question in regards to you and lieutenant Provenza seeking outside employment. That is not the issue of my transparency audit at the moment.”
It just sounded too good to be true.
“Really?”
“Really,” she stressed but then added, “unless you feel it should be?”
“Nope,” he quickly told her as he put his arm though one jacket sleeve.
“However,” she said in a lecturing tone, “I would suggest you behave from now on. Think before you act and remember that the conduct of your division is in fact being investigated and it would be best for all if you laid low. ”
“Duly noted.”
Sharon peeked through the curtain, her fingers curled around the cloth as she drew it an inch to the side, “Are you about done?”
Andy spun around, hands on his hips as he regarded her, “Who is in a hurry now?”
“You promised me lunch,” she said with another too innocent smile.
Andy rolled his eyes, “After I found a suit. I promised you lunch after shopping not before or in the middle of it.”
She pouted in return.
“So,” Andy spread his arms out, “what do you think?”
She pulled the curtain all the way to the side and took a step back to regard him, her eyes going up and down in a slow trail. She hummed when her eyes reached his, “Not bad.”
“Not bad,” Andy repeated in disbelief.
She smiled coyly, her arms crossed, “You would need a different shirt and tie to go with that color than the ones you are wearing.”
Andy rolled his eyes, “I know. That’s why the whole thing is a bother; not only do I need a new suit but it’s the whole ensemble I’ve gotta buy.”
Sharon grinned, “You said something about karma earlier.”
Andy shook his head and took a step towards her, “You are the devil incarnate.” His smile turned sly and he quickly grabbed her by the waist and drew her closer, turning them around and leaning down to capture her lips.
The sound of his name became muffled by the kiss, her protest at this obvious display of affection out in public easily assuaged as Andy pulled them inside the cubicle and closed the curtain after them.
“I am certain this establishment only allows one person per fitting room,” Sharon commented in a breathy voice when they let go of the kiss for air.
“You are such a stickler for rules,” Andy replied and slanted his mouth on hers again, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as his hands roamed down over rounded hips before they came to rest on her ass.
She curled her hand around the back of his nape, a hum into his mouth that was easy to interpret - even more so when she outlined his impending erection through the cloth of the new pants.
“About that talk,” Andy said into her ear, half of a mind to simply forget any notion of serious talk. But somehow, timing struck him to be opportune. It was now or never - she had done an expert job of avoiding the issue so far.
“Talk?” she feigned ignorance but he caught the hesitant look she gave him when she leaned back from him, her lips pursing into contemplation.
“Sharon,” Andy said in a low voice, “Christmas was a long time ago and we’ve been fucking more than simply once since then, okay, so whatever we’ve got going it’s more than a one time thing. Why, New Year’s especially was a delight, I must confess. But don’t you think instead of thinking up excuses of why we should be allowed to make love - don’t you think it would better to agree to just, you know, be in a relationship.”
She remained silent, her bottom lip disappearing for a while as she drew it under her teeth.
“Why do we have to be miserable or lonely or going to funerals for us to be intimate?”
She looked down, a small sigh escaping, “I don’t know.”
“Well, it’s simple and easy from where I’m standing, honey. I love you. I know I said I would be patient but let’s stop pretending we are only friends who fuck occasioanlly.”
“I know, I know,” she said again, this time a small smile at the corner of her lips, “It’s just easier to pretend sometimes.”
Andy leaned close and kissed the edge of her mouth, “I will pretend to be a fucking sod particle for you but you wanted to talk about you and me, and us, remember - and you’ve neglected to bring it up.”
“I chickened out,” the smile widened and she caressed his neck as if on afterthought, her fingers light on his skin. Her expression was pensive.
“I’m not saying I won’t be an asshole every now and then but I promise to keep it to a bare minimum,” Andy promised her, eliciting a soft laugh from her.
He shook his head, a wry smile on his lips, “So?”
She opened her mouth about to reply.
Someone cleared their throat in loud disapproval, “I would like to remind you, sir and ma’am, that you are only allowed one person per fitting room.”
Sharon looked sufficiently chastised, jumping away from him in a quick second with a small look of horror.
Andy grinned and watched her pull the curtain aside in a rapid move, her cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. Her self-aware smile was adorable. The store attendant stood stone-faced and gave them a nod before he moved away a good couple of meters to a table, able to supervise the fitting rooms with a raised eyebrow that seemed condescending.
Andy smiled, “So, is that a yes to the suit?”
Sharon nodded and then she inhaled rather noticeable before she spoke, “Yes, it’s a sure fit,” she paused and her smile curled even more, “So today is officially a date.”
Andy grinned, “Yeah. Imagine that, huh.”
...
=)