amop-series #58
/NESSECARY EVIL/
The car skidded precariously in the curve as Andrew Flynn abruptly swerved right at an angle that would have lesser experienced drivers summersaulting their car to the curb. Years of pursuing fleeing suspects in high speed car chases had Andy well-versed in the finer art of driving recklessly without ending up as smithereens of flesh and goo on the asphalt however, and as such the turn did not end with smacking up against the backend of the car that suddenly loomed into existence in front of him. Instead he managed to maneuver his car flawlessly around the obstacle.
The radio was turned off and yet the silence in his Crown Vic was deafening as he sped assuredly above the speed limit, purposefully relying on the instinct of evading other cars in his haphazard driving. He could practically hear the articulation of Sharon Raydor’s jaw joint as she clenched her teeth in disapproval next to him.
The unquestionably irate I.A. Captain sat in the passenger side, no doubt silently fuming at the display of audacity. Her arms had been folded across her chest when he had briefly given her a look two minutes earlier, either from his 'irresponsible' driving or from the fact that her previous attempts to get him to engage in pleasant conversation had been unsuccessful.
Andy hovered between either ignoring her or giving her a piece of his mind, the two options seeming equally disastrous. A quick risk assessment told him it would be better to keep his mouth shut; that way no words would end up biting him in the ass later on.
They were on their merry way to Coach Carr’s house - as merry as a car ride in tensile silence could be - and for the umpteenth time Andy berated himself for not forcing Provenza or Tao into his car. Tao would have been a nice distraction and Provenza would have irritated Andy to the point where he would have forgotten why he was upset in the first place. But no, apparently everyone had taken one look at which car Sharon had headed for and then quickly scrambled in the other direction.
Sharon, none the wiser about his mood, had chatted merrily as she had opened the car door and gotten in. Andy had only answered with a grunt or two and after two unsuccessful attempts at making conversation she had stopped altogether.
Which left them here in the present with flattened mouths turned downwards, knuckles white and tense around the steering wheel or in Sharon’s case clenched around the seat beneath her.
Andy overtook the car in front only to sigh at what appeared to be a traffic jam of slow going vehicles.
“Are you deliberately trying to get us killed?” Sharon finally snapped, “or is your foot permanently stuck to the speeder for some unknown foolish reason?”
Andy slowed down as the lane filled completely up with cars in front and it became impossible to overtake.
“Foolish reason obviously,” he replied cynically out of the corner of his mouth, not bothering to turn his head to look at her. He could imagine her features just fine without the visual representation of disdain.
Fucking traffic.
They were at a complete standstill now.
Andy sighed and then drummed out a rhythm on the steering wheel with both index fingers, the motion a tad more aggressive than usual.
“Are you alright?” Sharon ventured, the voice forcibly soft.
Andy grunted.
“Did something happen this weekend? Is that it?”
“Weekend?” Andy repeated, his eyes on the cars in front that did not move at all.
“You were supposed to see your children? A picnic I think you said.”
“Oh,” he sighed, “it was the usual shindig. The ex was there - spent the majority of her time yelling at me. When she wasn’t yelling she was hissing. Fun, fun.”
“So on all accounts a crappy weekend and now you are miserable,” Sharon commented and Andy knew she did not mean for it to sound so glib but there was something about her voice that rubbed him the wrong way.
“Nah, I managed to have a somewhat good weekend,” he said with a frown that he quickly threw in her direction, trying to gauge what really went on inside her head. She seemed to be herself on the surface, and that was the most confusing part of it - as if she was not making life altering decisions without telling him shit about it.
“Then what in the world are you upset about?” her voice seemed less patient now.
Andy shrugged and looked straight ahead again, his own patience wearing thin as well, the pace of decline frightfully fast when he thought about the news Taylor had gleefully told him two hours prior.
Being stuck in traffic would only heighten his impatience if not prompt Sharon to give him the third degree, so employing a tactic that was bound to get her additionally annoyed, Andy turned on the police siren on his car.
It took a heartbeat and then he overtook the first car in front, glad to be able to outdrive all the turtle-slow morons.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sharon commented, her expression like thunder when he chanced a look in her direction, “For heaven’s sake, Andy.”
Andy hid a satisfied smile, his eyes on the road.
“Lieutenant Flynn,” Sharon reprimanded him in a formal voice when Andy continued to remain silent, “why are you blatantly disregarding policy? You are familiar with the regulations regarding the appropriate use of your police siren, are you not? This is really not one of them.”
“It’s a grey area with a lot of leeway,” Andy simply shrugged, smiling when the cars in front of them quickly swerved to the curb when they heard the siren and saw the blinking, making room for him to slink through at a speed that suited him much better. There had to be some benefits to being an LAPD detective.
“I’m on duty,” Andy told Sharon with an arched eyebrow, “How can it be inappropriate then, huh?”
The glare she bestowed on him could have burned a path though skin and bone had he not been expecting it.
“I hardly think driving to Coach Carr’s house to look for stolen trophies is a critical situation that requires you to turn on your siren, lieutenant.”
“We are looking for the murder weapon in an open case - that’s a dire situation that needs to be resolved.”
“Trophy,” she vehemently corrected him, “we are looking for stolen trophies.”
“We are looking for guns,” Andy disagreed.
“Semantics, lieutenant. It still doesn’t change fact. This is not a situation that necessitates turning your police siren on. We have to be extra careful while the federal lawsuit is underhand; which means complying with regulations and not skipping through just because you feel it’s a grey area.”
Andy shrugged, “Are you going to lecture everyone else on my team on the appropriate use of the police sirens when on duty? Because they are sure as hell going to be at the house before we arrive, and we both know there’s only one logical conclusion behind that.”
“I don’t need to lecture anyone.”
“Oh really. Because this really feels like lecturing to me.”
“Oh you - ,” she abruptly stopped whatever she had been about to call him and instead she blew out aggravated air before she continued in a more calm voice, “I don’t have to lecture you or anyone else for that matter because all I have to do is show you the section on this very topic in our regulations and standards handbook. Which every rookie should be more than familiarized with. What you are doing is an outright misuse of power.”
Andy shrugged, “So, sue me.”
“I’m in internal affairs,” she spoke in a measured tone as if he was slow-witted, “- I simply have to file a report on you.”
“Well then go ahead, sweetheart, file a report.”
“For heaven’s sake - what’s wrong with you today?”
“Nothing,” he lied, “I just don’t fancy having internal affairs this far up my ass.”
That earned him silence.
Well, silence that only lasted about a half minute before Sharon sighed loudly.
Andy ignored her, his concentration on driving through an intersection with red lights, the blazing siren a godsend.
Sharon sighed again.
Andy pursed his mouth, braking a bit when some moron in a Ford in front of him was too slow to move over, obviously not giving much for a civilian police car.
“Idiot,” Andy mumbled when he finally got past the little shit.
The mumble caught Sharon’s attention and instead of sighing she harrumphed in an annoyed fashion and then spoke, the tone low and threatening, “I heard that.”
“I was commenting on the Ford,” Andy shook his head.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised.
Andy sighed and then blurted, “So, how are you, you know generally?”
He chanced a look in her direction, her face screwed into a mix of confusion and annoyance.
“I am on the point of slapping you over the back of your head,” she replied in a dry voice.
Andy ignored the dig, “I mean, are you happy?” he paused. He couldn’t ask her if she was happy with work. That would be too telling. “With your life, I mean?” he added, “Are you happy with your life?”
“My life? Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
Andy shrugged, “I don’t know. I just wanted to know if you were unhappy with something? You know, have I done something recently?”
“Not counting today you mean.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed out trying to temper the need to explode, “not counting today.”
Sharon became silent and another look in her direction told him she was giving him a strange glower.
“Heck, you know I appreciate you, don’t you?” Andy spoke, his eyes dead-set on the road as he outmaneuvered cars, “I mean, I support you, you know.”
“Alright, spit it out,” she simply said, “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“I’m not trying to sweet talk you,” Andy told her, annoyed she thought he had done something, “I’m merely trying to figure out why you need a mental status check.”
“My mental status? You are the one who’s driving like a teenager, turning on the siren just to annoy me into reporting you.”
“Oh, I am a nut alright,” Andy bit out, not seeing any point in keeping his temper in reign anymore, “But the thing is, I just don’t see you spending the little time you have left in I.A on writing me up for something so trivial as turning on the damn siren. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do - you know, organize your office, pack your things, important stuff like that.”
“Time left? - Andy, what are you -”
“What!” Andy quickly overrode what she had been about to say, “- did you seriously think I would stay in the dark about your retirement plans? The fancy job offer, huh - I guess congratulation is in order. Director of internal threats and cooperate security at Los Angeles Convention Center; what a blast. Are you getting a pay raise? Is that it? Because the grapevine has a ton of reasons for your sudden transfer out of the LAPD, one reason as ridiculous as the other.”
She remained silent and Andy kept his gaze out through the front shield window not daring to look in her direction if only for a second.
“Shit, Sharon,” Andy exhaled noisily even if he felt less tension in his body.
This time she sighed in a dramatic and loud fashion obviously meant to convey her discontent.
Well, she could sigh with discontent all she wanted; Andy triumphed her when it came to discontent.
“I had a private conversation with Chief Pope and Commander Taylor about this. How do you know?” her voice sounded too calm for his liking.
“There is no such thing as privacy when Taylor’s in the loop - c’mon, you know this. You tell Taylor and the whole building will know it in under an hour. The idiot is essentially better than our Wi-Fi connection.”
She hummed in reply.
Andy groaned, “The Slimeball took his time with rubbing my face in it, gleeful when he figured out I had no clue whatsoever about your plans. He looked ready to choke on his own laughter when I told him there was no way in hell you were retiring,” Andy paused and then with resignation he grunted, “Geez, how to make a fool of myself, I should just write a book.”
Sharon cleared her throat but Andy continued to stare straight ahead, his hands clenched around the steering wheel.
“Imagine my surprise, hmm, it’s all over headquarters and yet I’m the last to get clued in,” Andy growled.
“It’s already in the gossip pool?” Sharon asked in a voice that reeked of curiosity. Curiosity of all things - sometimes Andy found it hard to understand her.
“Yes, I could start any outrageous rumor right now and no one would bat an eye. I.A and your imminent departure is the hot topic. Half of Vice is planning your retirement party and Narcotics even went as far as starting up a fund to raise money for said party.”
Sharon made a funny noise next to him, “So everyone is rooting for my exit? How quaint.”
“You just wait till the neanderthals find out that you leaving has nothing to do with dismantling internal affairs and will only mean a transition period until they find someone new to boss everyone around. They will choke on their own glee then.”
She hummed in agreement.
Andy growled, “Hell, Sharon. I would have liked a little heads-up.”
“Andy,” Sharon started, “It’s not what you think.”
Andy ignored her, “I don’t even care about the retirement or the job, Sharon,” he paused and then amended, “Oh, okay to be honest I feel a bit hurt that you are leaving me all by my lonesome. Who in the world is going to give me the benefit of doubt now? Your little protégées hate me on sight and whoever ends up on the throne of the Rat Squad will either already have a grudge against me or rely on my less than stellar personnel file. I mean, on paper I sound like a real bad-tempered asshole.”
“Andy,” Sharon tried to get his attention but once again Andy ignored her. He needed to tell her how he felt about this sudden career move she was planning - had planned he mentally corrected.
“What I really don’t understand is why I have to be the last to know? Why is Taylor the one who gets to tell me? C’mon, you could have told me that you were looking for outside employment and thinking about retiring from the force.”
“I am not retiring,” Sharon said her voice remarkably calm.
“Sure you are,” Andy disagreed with a headshake, steering past another slow vehicle, “you told Pope and Taylor, remember - Director of - ”
Sharon quickly interrupted him, “Pull over.”
Andy gave her a weird glance, “What? I thought you were going to Coach Carr’s house with us to make sure we only looked for stolen trophies?”
“Andy,” she said in the softest voice, “Pull over honey.”
“Okay,” he mumbled and then pulled to the curb, turning off the siren as the car parked.
He watched cars flying past them, his mouth still turned downwards when he turned to look at Sharon.
Sharon turned around in her seat, her hands out and landing on his nearest thigh in a caress, “I am not retiring.”
Andy looked at her dumbfounded, feeling rather like an idiot.
Sharon repeated herself, “I am most definitely not retiring. Why in the world would I retire? I love my job.”
“I - erm,” Andy stuttered and then with a dark expression, “Oh, I don’t understand shit.”
“Andy, I started the rumor.”
Now he felt even more confused, “You did? Why?”
She smiled affectionately at him, leaning as far as the seat belt would allow, her eyes on him with a direct look, “It’s a ruse, honey.”
“A ruse?”
“I’m examining the chain of information,” she told him, her hands still on his thigh, fingers gently applying pressure in comfort, “you know, regular I.A business.”
“Oh,” he commented.
“Yes,” she nodded with a soft smile, “so there’s no need to worry.”
Andy shook his head, not sure if he felt annoyed or impressed, “You are fucking sneaky, you know that.”
Her smile widened and he knew she took it as a compliment, “I’ve told you a thousand times, I enjoy my work in I.A.”
Andy smiled, “It suits you, yeah,” pausing he quickly sobered, “So, what - you couldn’t have taken two seconds this morning to warn me you were launching a major I.A con?”
Her features immediately crumbled into apology, her bottom lip being pulled in for a brief moment, “I’m so sorry, Andy. I really am - but I can’t tell you everything to do with my investigations.”
“I know, I know. And I don’t want to know the big stuff - but you could have saved me a lot of fretting and unnecessary tension.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I should have told you. I forgot to consider your reaction, okay. I might have been a bit single-minded in my approach.”
Andy quickly made work of the seat belt, able to lean all the way over the gear stick and plant both hands beneath her jaw, fingers on the sides of her neck, “Heck, it’s all cleared up now.”
“No, no,” she shook her head, “I’m truly sorry,” she tilted her head, her hands now curled around his knee in a tight grip, “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, in the future I would appreciate a heads-up to whatever lies you are going to dish out, you know, especially if they sorta concerns me,” Andy smiled and then leaned in to capture her lips, the pressure of her mouth pliantly against his. It took a second and then she reciprocated, falling more in towards the center of his body, her mouth hot and insistent on his.
Sharon smiled against his lips when they let up for air.
“So, we all good?” Andy asked her with a smile.
She nodded.
The seat belt was back on, the car speeding again minus the siren this time.
Andy chanced a look in her direction, the tell-tale upwards curve of her mouth visible in profile. She turned her head and lifted an eyebrow. Their hands easily tangled together, resting over the gear stick, the motion of changing gears with her hand beneath his a nice touch.
…
=)
The car skidded precariously in the curve as Andrew Flynn abruptly swerved right at an angle that would have lesser experienced drivers summersaulting their car to the curb. Years of pursuing fleeing suspects in high speed car chases had Andy well-versed in the finer art of driving recklessly without ending up as smithereens of flesh and goo on the asphalt however, and as such the turn did not end with smacking up against the backend of the car that suddenly loomed into existence in front of him. Instead he managed to maneuver his car flawlessly around the obstacle.
The radio was turned off and yet the silence in his Crown Vic was deafening as he sped assuredly above the speed limit, purposefully relying on the instinct of evading other cars in his haphazard driving. He could practically hear the articulation of Sharon Raydor’s jaw joint as she clenched her teeth in disapproval next to him.
The unquestionably irate I.A. Captain sat in the passenger side, no doubt silently fuming at the display of audacity. Her arms had been folded across her chest when he had briefly given her a look two minutes earlier, either from his 'irresponsible' driving or from the fact that her previous attempts to get him to engage in pleasant conversation had been unsuccessful.
Andy hovered between either ignoring her or giving her a piece of his mind, the two options seeming equally disastrous. A quick risk assessment told him it would be better to keep his mouth shut; that way no words would end up biting him in the ass later on.
They were on their merry way to Coach Carr’s house - as merry as a car ride in tensile silence could be - and for the umpteenth time Andy berated himself for not forcing Provenza or Tao into his car. Tao would have been a nice distraction and Provenza would have irritated Andy to the point where he would have forgotten why he was upset in the first place. But no, apparently everyone had taken one look at which car Sharon had headed for and then quickly scrambled in the other direction.
Sharon, none the wiser about his mood, had chatted merrily as she had opened the car door and gotten in. Andy had only answered with a grunt or two and after two unsuccessful attempts at making conversation she had stopped altogether.
Which left them here in the present with flattened mouths turned downwards, knuckles white and tense around the steering wheel or in Sharon’s case clenched around the seat beneath her.
Andy overtook the car in front only to sigh at what appeared to be a traffic jam of slow going vehicles.
“Are you deliberately trying to get us killed?” Sharon finally snapped, “or is your foot permanently stuck to the speeder for some unknown foolish reason?”
Andy slowed down as the lane filled completely up with cars in front and it became impossible to overtake.
“Foolish reason obviously,” he replied cynically out of the corner of his mouth, not bothering to turn his head to look at her. He could imagine her features just fine without the visual representation of disdain.
Fucking traffic.
They were at a complete standstill now.
Andy sighed and then drummed out a rhythm on the steering wheel with both index fingers, the motion a tad more aggressive than usual.
“Are you alright?” Sharon ventured, the voice forcibly soft.
Andy grunted.
“Did something happen this weekend? Is that it?”
“Weekend?” Andy repeated, his eyes on the cars in front that did not move at all.
“You were supposed to see your children? A picnic I think you said.”
“Oh,” he sighed, “it was the usual shindig. The ex was there - spent the majority of her time yelling at me. When she wasn’t yelling she was hissing. Fun, fun.”
“So on all accounts a crappy weekend and now you are miserable,” Sharon commented and Andy knew she did not mean for it to sound so glib but there was something about her voice that rubbed him the wrong way.
“Nah, I managed to have a somewhat good weekend,” he said with a frown that he quickly threw in her direction, trying to gauge what really went on inside her head. She seemed to be herself on the surface, and that was the most confusing part of it - as if she was not making life altering decisions without telling him shit about it.
“Then what in the world are you upset about?” her voice seemed less patient now.
Andy shrugged and looked straight ahead again, his own patience wearing thin as well, the pace of decline frightfully fast when he thought about the news Taylor had gleefully told him two hours prior.
Being stuck in traffic would only heighten his impatience if not prompt Sharon to give him the third degree, so employing a tactic that was bound to get her additionally annoyed, Andy turned on the police siren on his car.
It took a heartbeat and then he overtook the first car in front, glad to be able to outdrive all the turtle-slow morons.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Sharon commented, her expression like thunder when he chanced a look in her direction, “For heaven’s sake, Andy.”
Andy hid a satisfied smile, his eyes on the road.
“Lieutenant Flynn,” Sharon reprimanded him in a formal voice when Andy continued to remain silent, “why are you blatantly disregarding policy? You are familiar with the regulations regarding the appropriate use of your police siren, are you not? This is really not one of them.”
“It’s a grey area with a lot of leeway,” Andy simply shrugged, smiling when the cars in front of them quickly swerved to the curb when they heard the siren and saw the blinking, making room for him to slink through at a speed that suited him much better. There had to be some benefits to being an LAPD detective.
“I’m on duty,” Andy told Sharon with an arched eyebrow, “How can it be inappropriate then, huh?”
The glare she bestowed on him could have burned a path though skin and bone had he not been expecting it.
“I hardly think driving to Coach Carr’s house to look for stolen trophies is a critical situation that requires you to turn on your siren, lieutenant.”
“We are looking for the murder weapon in an open case - that’s a dire situation that needs to be resolved.”
“Trophy,” she vehemently corrected him, “we are looking for stolen trophies.”
“We are looking for guns,” Andy disagreed.
“Semantics, lieutenant. It still doesn’t change fact. This is not a situation that necessitates turning your police siren on. We have to be extra careful while the federal lawsuit is underhand; which means complying with regulations and not skipping through just because you feel it’s a grey area.”
Andy shrugged, “Are you going to lecture everyone else on my team on the appropriate use of the police sirens when on duty? Because they are sure as hell going to be at the house before we arrive, and we both know there’s only one logical conclusion behind that.”
“I don’t need to lecture anyone.”
“Oh really. Because this really feels like lecturing to me.”
“Oh you - ,” she abruptly stopped whatever she had been about to call him and instead she blew out aggravated air before she continued in a more calm voice, “I don’t have to lecture you or anyone else for that matter because all I have to do is show you the section on this very topic in our regulations and standards handbook. Which every rookie should be more than familiarized with. What you are doing is an outright misuse of power.”
Andy shrugged, “So, sue me.”
“I’m in internal affairs,” she spoke in a measured tone as if he was slow-witted, “- I simply have to file a report on you.”
“Well then go ahead, sweetheart, file a report.”
“For heaven’s sake - what’s wrong with you today?”
“Nothing,” he lied, “I just don’t fancy having internal affairs this far up my ass.”
That earned him silence.
Well, silence that only lasted about a half minute before Sharon sighed loudly.
Andy ignored her, his concentration on driving through an intersection with red lights, the blazing siren a godsend.
Sharon sighed again.
Andy pursed his mouth, braking a bit when some moron in a Ford in front of him was too slow to move over, obviously not giving much for a civilian police car.
“Idiot,” Andy mumbled when he finally got past the little shit.
The mumble caught Sharon’s attention and instead of sighing she harrumphed in an annoyed fashion and then spoke, the tone low and threatening, “I heard that.”
“I was commenting on the Ford,” Andy shook his head.
“Oh,” she sounded surprised.
Andy sighed and then blurted, “So, how are you, you know generally?”
He chanced a look in her direction, her face screwed into a mix of confusion and annoyance.
“I am on the point of slapping you over the back of your head,” she replied in a dry voice.
Andy ignored the dig, “I mean, are you happy?” he paused. He couldn’t ask her if she was happy with work. That would be too telling. “With your life, I mean?” he added, “Are you happy with your life?”
“My life? Yes, why wouldn’t I be?”
Andy shrugged, “I don’t know. I just wanted to know if you were unhappy with something? You know, have I done something recently?”
“Not counting today you mean.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he breathed out trying to temper the need to explode, “not counting today.”
Sharon became silent and another look in her direction told him she was giving him a strange glower.
“Heck, you know I appreciate you, don’t you?” Andy spoke, his eyes dead-set on the road as he outmaneuvered cars, “I mean, I support you, you know.”
“Alright, spit it out,” she simply said, “What have you gotten yourself into now?”
“I’m not trying to sweet talk you,” Andy told her, annoyed she thought he had done something, “I’m merely trying to figure out why you need a mental status check.”
“My mental status? You are the one who’s driving like a teenager, turning on the siren just to annoy me into reporting you.”
“Oh, I am a nut alright,” Andy bit out, not seeing any point in keeping his temper in reign anymore, “But the thing is, I just don’t see you spending the little time you have left in I.A on writing me up for something so trivial as turning on the damn siren. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do - you know, organize your office, pack your things, important stuff like that.”
“Time left? - Andy, what are you -”
“What!” Andy quickly overrode what she had been about to say, “- did you seriously think I would stay in the dark about your retirement plans? The fancy job offer, huh - I guess congratulation is in order. Director of internal threats and cooperate security at Los Angeles Convention Center; what a blast. Are you getting a pay raise? Is that it? Because the grapevine has a ton of reasons for your sudden transfer out of the LAPD, one reason as ridiculous as the other.”
She remained silent and Andy kept his gaze out through the front shield window not daring to look in her direction if only for a second.
“Shit, Sharon,” Andy exhaled noisily even if he felt less tension in his body.
This time she sighed in a dramatic and loud fashion obviously meant to convey her discontent.
Well, she could sigh with discontent all she wanted; Andy triumphed her when it came to discontent.
“I had a private conversation with Chief Pope and Commander Taylor about this. How do you know?” her voice sounded too calm for his liking.
“There is no such thing as privacy when Taylor’s in the loop - c’mon, you know this. You tell Taylor and the whole building will know it in under an hour. The idiot is essentially better than our Wi-Fi connection.”
She hummed in reply.
Andy groaned, “The Slimeball took his time with rubbing my face in it, gleeful when he figured out I had no clue whatsoever about your plans. He looked ready to choke on his own laughter when I told him there was no way in hell you were retiring,” Andy paused and then with resignation he grunted, “Geez, how to make a fool of myself, I should just write a book.”
Sharon cleared her throat but Andy continued to stare straight ahead, his hands clenched around the steering wheel.
“Imagine my surprise, hmm, it’s all over headquarters and yet I’m the last to get clued in,” Andy growled.
“It’s already in the gossip pool?” Sharon asked in a voice that reeked of curiosity. Curiosity of all things - sometimes Andy found it hard to understand her.
“Yes, I could start any outrageous rumor right now and no one would bat an eye. I.A and your imminent departure is the hot topic. Half of Vice is planning your retirement party and Narcotics even went as far as starting up a fund to raise money for said party.”
Sharon made a funny noise next to him, “So everyone is rooting for my exit? How quaint.”
“You just wait till the neanderthals find out that you leaving has nothing to do with dismantling internal affairs and will only mean a transition period until they find someone new to boss everyone around. They will choke on their own glee then.”
She hummed in agreement.
Andy growled, “Hell, Sharon. I would have liked a little heads-up.”
“Andy,” Sharon started, “It’s not what you think.”
Andy ignored her, “I don’t even care about the retirement or the job, Sharon,” he paused and then amended, “Oh, okay to be honest I feel a bit hurt that you are leaving me all by my lonesome. Who in the world is going to give me the benefit of doubt now? Your little protégées hate me on sight and whoever ends up on the throne of the Rat Squad will either already have a grudge against me or rely on my less than stellar personnel file. I mean, on paper I sound like a real bad-tempered asshole.”
“Andy,” Sharon tried to get his attention but once again Andy ignored her. He needed to tell her how he felt about this sudden career move she was planning - had planned he mentally corrected.
“What I really don’t understand is why I have to be the last to know? Why is Taylor the one who gets to tell me? C’mon, you could have told me that you were looking for outside employment and thinking about retiring from the force.”
“I am not retiring,” Sharon said her voice remarkably calm.
“Sure you are,” Andy disagreed with a headshake, steering past another slow vehicle, “you told Pope and Taylor, remember - Director of - ”
Sharon quickly interrupted him, “Pull over.”
Andy gave her a weird glance, “What? I thought you were going to Coach Carr’s house with us to make sure we only looked for stolen trophies?”
“Andy,” she said in the softest voice, “Pull over honey.”
“Okay,” he mumbled and then pulled to the curb, turning off the siren as the car parked.
He watched cars flying past them, his mouth still turned downwards when he turned to look at Sharon.
Sharon turned around in her seat, her hands out and landing on his nearest thigh in a caress, “I am not retiring.”
Andy looked at her dumbfounded, feeling rather like an idiot.
Sharon repeated herself, “I am most definitely not retiring. Why in the world would I retire? I love my job.”
“I - erm,” Andy stuttered and then with a dark expression, “Oh, I don’t understand shit.”
“Andy, I started the rumor.”
Now he felt even more confused, “You did? Why?”
She smiled affectionately at him, leaning as far as the seat belt would allow, her eyes on him with a direct look, “It’s a ruse, honey.”
“A ruse?”
“I’m examining the chain of information,” she told him, her hands still on his thigh, fingers gently applying pressure in comfort, “you know, regular I.A business.”
“Oh,” he commented.
“Yes,” she nodded with a soft smile, “so there’s no need to worry.”
Andy shook his head, not sure if he felt annoyed or impressed, “You are fucking sneaky, you know that.”
Her smile widened and he knew she took it as a compliment, “I’ve told you a thousand times, I enjoy my work in I.A.”
Andy smiled, “It suits you, yeah,” pausing he quickly sobered, “So, what - you couldn’t have taken two seconds this morning to warn me you were launching a major I.A con?”
Her features immediately crumbled into apology, her bottom lip being pulled in for a brief moment, “I’m so sorry, Andy. I really am - but I can’t tell you everything to do with my investigations.”
“I know, I know. And I don’t want to know the big stuff - but you could have saved me a lot of fretting and unnecessary tension.”
“I’m sorry,” she repeated, “I should have told you. I forgot to consider your reaction, okay. I might have been a bit single-minded in my approach.”
Andy quickly made work of the seat belt, able to lean all the way over the gear stick and plant both hands beneath her jaw, fingers on the sides of her neck, “Heck, it’s all cleared up now.”
“No, no,” she shook her head, “I’m truly sorry,” she tilted her head, her hands now curled around his knee in a tight grip, “I should have told you.”
“Yeah, in the future I would appreciate a heads-up to whatever lies you are going to dish out, you know, especially if they sorta concerns me,” Andy smiled and then leaned in to capture her lips, the pressure of her mouth pliantly against his. It took a second and then she reciprocated, falling more in towards the center of his body, her mouth hot and insistent on his.
Sharon smiled against his lips when they let up for air.
“So, we all good?” Andy asked her with a smile.
She nodded.
The seat belt was back on, the car speeding again minus the siren this time.
Andy chanced a look in her direction, the tell-tale upwards curve of her mouth visible in profile. She turned her head and lifted an eyebrow. Their hands easily tangled together, resting over the gear stick, the motion of changing gears with her hand beneath his a nice touch.
…
=)