"Enigma (2/16)" - Hobbs/Raydor Fic
Title: Enigma (2/16)
Co-author: sharon_ray
Pairing: Hobbs/Raydor
Rating: T (rating will change)
Word Count: 3, 377
Disclaimer: Not our characters or television show
Summary: Sharon and Andrea's relationship has been balanced on the precipice of friendship and something more for longer than either of them care to admit. Will the ever-present danger of their jobs finally push them over that fine line? Or will it pull them apart?
A/N: Fic starts out in season seven of The Closer, and follows the events (we've taken some liberties of course) of Major Crimes. This fic is complete and chapters will be posted on a weekly basis. On ff.net: Enigma.
Ch.1,
(graphic made by me with my own screencaps and those taken with permission from MajorCrimesTV.net. Please do not take or re-post.)
Sharon stood close to Andrea, one arm laced through the younger woman’s to guide her along, as they examined a row of photographs lining a long, off white wall. “I believe all of her pieces are in here,” Sharon said as she moved closer to the row of photographs, the infamous Body Farm photos having caught her eye. Sharon stood as close to the photos as she could without getting in trouble with the guard, studying every detail of the subjects.
“They’re just magnificent,” she mused, mostly to herself, as she looked over three photos of bodies in various states of decay.
But Andrea wasn’t really looking at the photographs, she was too caught up in watching Sharon observe the graphic artwork. There was a light in her eyes and an energy in her body that Andrea delighted in seeing; Sharon was positively glowing with excitement. Andrea had always known Sharon liked art, that much was obvious from the decor in her office and her home, but she had never seen her so absorbed in any given work before.
“They’re exceptionally well done,” Andrea offered.
Sharon chuckled. “I know it’s not really your idea of art,” she apologized.
“No, they are well done. Honestly. I’ve just always been able to relate more to music and literature than to visual art or dance.” Andrea shrugged. “It’s nothing against the artwork itself, it’s just that other types of art have always spoken to me more than others,” she explained.
Sharon hummed. “When my son was in elementary school, he was diagnosed with ADD. He was, and still is, a brilliant young man but he had difficulty studying because he couldn’t concentrate on anything for long periods of time. He’s since overcome it, but when he was a child his teachers suggested that we try creative ways of getting him to do his work at home,” Sharon sighed, “but I was working full time, Jackson and I had separated and he barely saw the kids; I was desperate to find a way to help him out. The Body Farm exhibit was at a smaller gallery in 2001. Ricky was in his junior year at high school at the time and he had a biology midterm that he was studying for. I took him to the exhibit and we brought his textbook. We’d study the photographs and I’d have his textbook with questions and answers and I’d ask him to name parts of the body; we’d talk about what happens to the tissue, organs, in various stages of decay. The visuals and hands on aspect really helped him, and he aced the exam. There was something about pairing the literal, artistic imagery of decay with the scientific fact that just made it click for Ricky. He ended up pursuing a career in science and just this year he started his residency as an ER doctor,” she said proudly.
Andrea smiled at Sharon. “That’s wonderful. I didn’t realize that this,” she gestured to the photographs, “meant so much to you personally.”
Sharon chuckled and wrapped an arm around Andrea. “I’m just glad I got to see them again. I’m not sure how long her work will be here this time. She’s based on the East Coast, so her work doesn’t travel out here often. She’s an odd one; she likes to stay in Virginia with her old cameras and her local galleries. It’s a treat if her work is out here at all. Thank you for coming with me.”
Andrea’s heart fluttered as she felt the warmth of Sharon’s body against her side. Andrea had to admit, there was something alluring about the way Sharon spoke about art and to see her so happy thrilled Andrea to her core. She had grown accustomed to seeing Sharon in her element as the boss, and as a cop, but she didn’t get to see the artistic, intellectual side of Sharon Raydor nearly enough. She liked it, a lot, and wished that she could spend every day watching Sharon like this.
“Of course, I’m glad I could come with. It’s nice to see you so happy.” She grinned at Sharon and pulled her in closer, squeezing her gently with one arm. “Now, I believe you promised to feed me, yes? Where is this bistro and how soon can we get there because despite looking at photographs of dead bodies for the last hour, I’m actually really hungry.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Sharon laughed as she remembered their dinner date, “ I thought we could go to Patina, it’s just up the street in the concert hall. We’ll be there in two minutes.” She let go of Andrea so they could leave the museum and walk to dinner.
Andrea couldn’t help the regular pang of disappointment that always asserted itself after Sharon let her out of a friendly embrace. How she would have loved to continue to walk arm in arm, hand in hand, skin touching Sharon’s skin. She felt exhilarated when they touched, and always a little sad when it was over. She couldn’t help but focus on the shape of Sharon’s hips in her skirt as the older woman sauntered along the hallway in front of her and out the front doors of the museum so they could walk the short distance to the Walt Disney concert hall. Being friends with women had never been an issue for her before, being friends with attractive women had never been an issue for her before; being friends with Sharon Raydor was starting to become a serious issue for her.
“They have the most amazing food,” Sharon gushed as they walked out into the slightly chilly evening. “I think you’ll really enjoy their scallops,” Sharon said, knowing all too well what Andrea was likely to select from the menu tonight.
Andrea noticed how Sharon crossed her arms and pulled the jacket she was wearing more firmly around her. Again, she wished that she could wrap an arm over her, pull her tight against her, and protect her against the cold. The urge to act more like Sharon’s girlfriend instead of like merely just a friend was starting to overwhelm Andrea. She had no way of telling if Sharon could feel the tension between them as well, or if Andrea had been making it all up in her head. There were moments when Andrea could swear she saw a flicker of...something in Sharon’s eyes. But it was always quickly replaced by either her utterly professional mask or a friendly smile.
Sharon and Andrea entered the restaurant and followed a hostess through a maze of tables in the main dining room to a small booth backed against a corner. “I’m so sorry for the snug fit, but this is all we have available this evening due to the concert starting in an hour, unfortunately you didn’t make a reservation. Will this suit you?” The hostess asked politely, motioning to the table.
Sharon glanced up at Andrea to see if she was comfortable with the seating arrangements.
“That’s fine,” Andrea said, nodding to Sharon. She climbed into the booth, which was slightly elevated from the floor, and held her breath as Sharon slid in next to her. As Sharon wiggled into place, Andrea had to bite the inside of her lip; Sharon’s skirt had ridden up several inches, exposing her creamy white skin, the same skin that was now pressed rather snugly against Andrea’s trousers. She didn’t know if she wanted to curse or thank the thin fabric that served as their only barrier.
“Well, I guess we’ll be having a cozy dinner,” Sharon joked, rubbing Andrea’s arm. “I completely forgot about the concert tonight, I didn’t even think to check the schedule. I should have picked a different restaurant, I’m sorry.”
Andrea shook her head and smiled, “No, no. This is fine. We can just sit on top of one another for the next hour and a half,” she deadpanned. She raised an eyebrow as Sharon laughed and finally, mercifully released her arm.
Sharon regarded the menu. “Scallops?” she asked.
Andrea pursed her lips and pretended to consider ordering something else. But, it was no use. Sharon knew her better than anyone else, and she knew that if given the choice, Andrea would always order seafood over meat or pasta. “Scallops,” she confirmed.
Sharon giggled. “Knew you would.” The server came moments later and took their orders. Sharon winked at Andrea when she told the young man what she wanted, and she nearly stumbled over her own words. Orders placed and wine glasses filled, he cleared their menus away and left them to hurry off to the kitchen.
Andrea watched Sharon for a moment as she tried to think of something to talk about. She hated that she felt so awkward; she had sat this close to Sharon a hundred times before in their own homes. Maybe it would be easier if you could stop noticing how beautiful she looks tonight, a little voice nagged her. Damn this restaurant for having only the narrowest booth in all of LA left, and damn Sharon Raydor for wearing that stupid pencil skirt of hers.
“So your daughter is coming in to see you next week, right? Are you excited to see her?” Andrea asked pleasantly. Kids were always a safe topic, and Sharon could talk about hers for hours if you let her.
“Oh, yes. She’s flying in on Monday. I hope I’ll be able to take at least one day out of the office with her, but you know how it goes, chances are slim, especially with Brenda Leigh Johnson acting out more and more frequently,” Sharon smirked darkly, “Pope has all but asked me to babysit her and her division lately. It’s been...frustrating to say the least,” Sharon sighed, “I understand her frustrations, I truly do; but she and her detectives are making it very difficult for me to have anything but negative reports to give to Pope.”
Sharon wiggled in her seat, her thigh rubbing against Andrea’s, as she vented about her job. Andrea sighed quietly, she was all too aware of Sharon’s body pressed and moving up against hers. She pursed her lips and nodded her head in what she hoped were the right spots in Sharon’s story, because all she could think about was how even through her trousers, she could feel the warmth of Sharon’s skin. She could smell Sharon’s subtle perfume every time Sharon fidgeted with her hair or leaned in to murmur a swear word that she didn’t want the other patrons to hear. Andrea hastily scanned the room and observed the servers, surely their food would come soon, yes?
Luckily for Andrea, their waiter walked out of the kitchen with their food just as Sharon was finishing a summary of her daughter’s travel schedule for the next week. At least now she could focus on eating instead of focusing on the feel of Sharon’s legs against her own, or the fantasy of Sharon’s legs wrapped around her. She hadn’t meant for her mind to go there, but with Sharon fidgeting against her all evening, it was difficult to keep her thoughts in line.
“How are your scallops?” Sharon chirped as she took a bite of the halibut she had ordered.
“Delicious,” Andrea smiled back at Sharon, watching her for a moment. “How’s your meal?”
“Divine,” Sharon mused breathily, “Would you like to try some?”
Andrea swallowed hard as she felt Sharon’s hand on her thigh under the table. She knew Sharon had only put her hand there so she could lean over to offer her a bite, but it was still nearly too much for Andrea to handle. Sharon extended her arm across the small table to offer her fork to Andrea, a grin spreading across her face as she did it. Andrea cursed inwardly, didn’t Sharon understand how this looked? How it felt? They were sitting so close there was no way not to touch all night, and now Sharon was resting her hand on Andrea’s inner thigh so she could feed her. Certainly every single soul in this restaurant had to assume they were a couple. She doesn’t mean anything by it, Andrea chided herself as she accepted the food from Sharon, allowing the older woman to feed it to her.
“That is good,” Andrea muttered, smiling nervously at Sharon. The truth of the matter was she’d completely lost her appetite, thanks to Sharon’s little gesture.
For the rest of their meal, Andrea only managed a few more bites of her dish. She mostly poked at the scallops and rice in her dish miserably, while Sharon looked on critically. “Is there something wrong with your meal?” she asked, “I thought you said you were starving at the exhibit?” she teased.
“Oh, you know, classic my eyes are bigger than my stomach scenario,” Andrea said with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s excellent, but I guess I should have maybe stuck with a salad.”
“You never eat just salad,” Sharon scoffed, “not for dinner anyway. And not when there’s seafood on the menu.”
Andrea smiled at Sharon and shook her head. Sharon really did know her better than anyone else. “Yes, I know. I’ll be alright. I can take this home and eat it later if I’m hungry.”
Sharon nodded as she pulled her wallet out of her handbag and scooped the check up off the corner of the table. Andrea pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “What are you doing?”
“I’m paying for dinner. My treat for making you look at those photographs.” Sharon flashed a dazzling smile at Andrea as she slid her credit card into the check holder and set it back down. “And besides, I like treating you.”
“We’re not dating,” Andrea blurted out, and regretted her words as soon as she said them.
Sharon froze and regarded her carefully. “No, who said we were?” she asked softly.
“I mean, what I mean is, we’re friends. We do things equally. You’re not taking me out on a date, you don’t have a reason to impress me, you shouldn’t have to pay,” Andrea backtracked desperately, doing her best to explain herself.
“Well,” Sharon drawled, “as you stated, we’re friends. Sometimes friends do nice things for each other. Don’t make such a big deal out of it Andrea,” Sharon said, frowning. “And I should hope that you view issues of financial equality a little differently when it comes to your romantic relationships as well,” she said coolly.
“Excuse me?” Andrea asked, her voice carried a decidedly different tone than it had a moment ago.
“Well, it’s just that, do you always let your dates pay for you? Your statement seems to indicate-”
“What I do, when I date, who I date, who pays, is none of your business Sharon,” Andrea said; her tone was hard like granite now.
Sharon looked slightly taken aback, she cleared her throat. “You’re absolutely right. It’s not my business, and I had no right saying that,” she said softly as the server returned. She made quick work of signing the bill and leaving a generous tip for their server.
Andrea followed Sharon out of the restaurant and back to the car in the museum’s parking lot in silence. During their nights out, they often carpooled and tonight, Andrea had offered to drive them. The ride back to Sharon’s house, though it was only twenty minutes, felt like an eternity. Neither woman dared to say anything and Sharon spent much of the ride staring out her window, her body turned as much away from Andrea as it could be. Andrea had contemplated apologizing, but she didn’t know what to say. It was true that who she dated and what she did wasn’t any of Sharon’s business, but she hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. Part of her had resented Sharon altogether for having the nerve to even bring up her love life, or lack thereof recently. No, there hadn’t been anyone in Andrea’s life, or in her bed, because she spent nearly every free evening she had with Sharon lately.
As they pulled up to the front of Sharon’s building, Andrea let out a quiet sigh. She wished the evening could end differently, on a happier note, but they were both too stubborn to move past their tiff at dinner.
“Well, thank you for driving me home. I’ll see you at work on Monday,” Sharon muttered as she grabbed her purse off the floorboard and opened her door. She let herself out of the car, without so much as a glance at the blonde sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Right, see you on Monday,” Andrea returned. She watched longingly as Sharon walked away from her car and into the building. Only when she saw that Sharon had passed the front desk and was on her way to the elevator did she finally drive off.
The first thing that Sharon did when she let herself into her condo was kick off her shoes. The second thing was to run her fingers through her hair and let out a sigh of relief. Usually days with Andrea flew by; they had fun together. It felt natural to be around her, to be close to her; it usually felt good to be in her presence. Today had been full of awkward pauses and uncomfortable glances and then, of course, their argument. She chalked it up to nerves; sitting that close to Andrea for over an hour was more than she could handle, it made her entirely too nervous.
She made quick work of changing her clothes and washing her makeup off before climbing into bed. Trying to sleep, however, was no use. She couldn’t stop thinking about her disagreement with Andrea. Why had she snapped at her? Both she and Andrea had paid for dinner for each other dozens of times before. Why was it suddenly different tonight? If she was being honest, a lot of things had been different between them lately and being Andrea’s friend was starting to feel like a difficult task. There were the prolonged touches and glances that sent shivers up and down Sharon’s spine, and then there were the awkward silences and the hasty retreats like tonight.
Andrea was an enigma, and their friendship was starting to become one too.
Sharon let out a quiet sigh and grabbed her phone and glasses off the nightstand. She couldn’t just go to bed and leave things the way they were with Andrea. They’d never fought before, why should they start now? No, she would fix this. At the very least, she would apologize. Again.
I’m sorry I upset you at dinner, Andrea. I didn’t mean to step over the line. I appreciate you going to the museum with me today, I know it really wasn’t your thing, that’s why I wanted to treat you to dinner...thank you. Friends?
Andrea tried to ignore the buzzing on her nightstand. She knew who it was going to be and she wasn’t quite ready to face whatever it was Sharon had to say. She knew she’d behaved poorly this evening, but Sharon could be downright infuriating sometimes. Why did she have to do and say things that made Andrea feel like they were dating when she herself had very clearly stated that they were not? Why did she have to flirt and cuddle and do things like feed her and pay for her dinner? Sharon couldn’t possibly be aware of how much she was leading her on, could she? Surely, she wouldn’t flirt with her just for fun, would she? After a few moments of resolve, curiosity got the best of Andrea and she grabbed her phone to read Sharon’s message and respond.
It’s alright. I’m sorry I snapped at you, it was out of line. I enjoyed the museum. I enjoyed the day with you, Sharon. I always do. Yes. Friends... night.
Friends. They were friends, and only friends. Andrea rolled her eyes and set her phone back down so she could bury herself in her duvet. How could someone as wonderful as Sharon Raydor make her feel so miserable, yet so amazing at the same time?
Co-author: sharon_ray
Pairing: Hobbs/Raydor
Rating: T (rating will change)
Word Count: 3, 377
Disclaimer: Not our characters or television show
Summary: Sharon and Andrea's relationship has been balanced on the precipice of friendship and something more for longer than either of them care to admit. Will the ever-present danger of their jobs finally push them over that fine line? Or will it pull them apart?
A/N: Fic starts out in season seven of The Closer, and follows the events (we've taken some liberties of course) of Major Crimes. This fic is complete and chapters will be posted on a weekly basis. On ff.net: Enigma.
Ch.1,
(graphic made by me with my own screencaps and those taken with permission from MajorCrimesTV.net. Please do not take or re-post.)
Sharon stood close to Andrea, one arm laced through the younger woman’s to guide her along, as they examined a row of photographs lining a long, off white wall. “I believe all of her pieces are in here,” Sharon said as she moved closer to the row of photographs, the infamous Body Farm photos having caught her eye. Sharon stood as close to the photos as she could without getting in trouble with the guard, studying every detail of the subjects.
“They’re just magnificent,” she mused, mostly to herself, as she looked over three photos of bodies in various states of decay.
But Andrea wasn’t really looking at the photographs, she was too caught up in watching Sharon observe the graphic artwork. There was a light in her eyes and an energy in her body that Andrea delighted in seeing; Sharon was positively glowing with excitement. Andrea had always known Sharon liked art, that much was obvious from the decor in her office and her home, but she had never seen her so absorbed in any given work before.
“They’re exceptionally well done,” Andrea offered.
Sharon chuckled. “I know it’s not really your idea of art,” she apologized.
“No, they are well done. Honestly. I’ve just always been able to relate more to music and literature than to visual art or dance.” Andrea shrugged. “It’s nothing against the artwork itself, it’s just that other types of art have always spoken to me more than others,” she explained.
Sharon hummed. “When my son was in elementary school, he was diagnosed with ADD. He was, and still is, a brilliant young man but he had difficulty studying because he couldn’t concentrate on anything for long periods of time. He’s since overcome it, but when he was a child his teachers suggested that we try creative ways of getting him to do his work at home,” Sharon sighed, “but I was working full time, Jackson and I had separated and he barely saw the kids; I was desperate to find a way to help him out. The Body Farm exhibit was at a smaller gallery in 2001. Ricky was in his junior year at high school at the time and he had a biology midterm that he was studying for. I took him to the exhibit and we brought his textbook. We’d study the photographs and I’d have his textbook with questions and answers and I’d ask him to name parts of the body; we’d talk about what happens to the tissue, organs, in various stages of decay. The visuals and hands on aspect really helped him, and he aced the exam. There was something about pairing the literal, artistic imagery of decay with the scientific fact that just made it click for Ricky. He ended up pursuing a career in science and just this year he started his residency as an ER doctor,” she said proudly.
Andrea smiled at Sharon. “That’s wonderful. I didn’t realize that this,” she gestured to the photographs, “meant so much to you personally.”
Sharon chuckled and wrapped an arm around Andrea. “I’m just glad I got to see them again. I’m not sure how long her work will be here this time. She’s based on the East Coast, so her work doesn’t travel out here often. She’s an odd one; she likes to stay in Virginia with her old cameras and her local galleries. It’s a treat if her work is out here at all. Thank you for coming with me.”
Andrea’s heart fluttered as she felt the warmth of Sharon’s body against her side. Andrea had to admit, there was something alluring about the way Sharon spoke about art and to see her so happy thrilled Andrea to her core. She had grown accustomed to seeing Sharon in her element as the boss, and as a cop, but she didn’t get to see the artistic, intellectual side of Sharon Raydor nearly enough. She liked it, a lot, and wished that she could spend every day watching Sharon like this.
“Of course, I’m glad I could come with. It’s nice to see you so happy.” She grinned at Sharon and pulled her in closer, squeezing her gently with one arm. “Now, I believe you promised to feed me, yes? Where is this bistro and how soon can we get there because despite looking at photographs of dead bodies for the last hour, I’m actually really hungry.”
“Oh, yes, of course,” Sharon laughed as she remembered their dinner date, “ I thought we could go to Patina, it’s just up the street in the concert hall. We’ll be there in two minutes.” She let go of Andrea so they could leave the museum and walk to dinner.
Andrea couldn’t help the regular pang of disappointment that always asserted itself after Sharon let her out of a friendly embrace. How she would have loved to continue to walk arm in arm, hand in hand, skin touching Sharon’s skin. She felt exhilarated when they touched, and always a little sad when it was over. She couldn’t help but focus on the shape of Sharon’s hips in her skirt as the older woman sauntered along the hallway in front of her and out the front doors of the museum so they could walk the short distance to the Walt Disney concert hall. Being friends with women had never been an issue for her before, being friends with attractive women had never been an issue for her before; being friends with Sharon Raydor was starting to become a serious issue for her.
“They have the most amazing food,” Sharon gushed as they walked out into the slightly chilly evening. “I think you’ll really enjoy their scallops,” Sharon said, knowing all too well what Andrea was likely to select from the menu tonight.
Andrea noticed how Sharon crossed her arms and pulled the jacket she was wearing more firmly around her. Again, she wished that she could wrap an arm over her, pull her tight against her, and protect her against the cold. The urge to act more like Sharon’s girlfriend instead of like merely just a friend was starting to overwhelm Andrea. She had no way of telling if Sharon could feel the tension between them as well, or if Andrea had been making it all up in her head. There were moments when Andrea could swear she saw a flicker of...something in Sharon’s eyes. But it was always quickly replaced by either her utterly professional mask or a friendly smile.
Sharon and Andrea entered the restaurant and followed a hostess through a maze of tables in the main dining room to a small booth backed against a corner. “I’m so sorry for the snug fit, but this is all we have available this evening due to the concert starting in an hour, unfortunately you didn’t make a reservation. Will this suit you?” The hostess asked politely, motioning to the table.
Sharon glanced up at Andrea to see if she was comfortable with the seating arrangements.
“That’s fine,” Andrea said, nodding to Sharon. She climbed into the booth, which was slightly elevated from the floor, and held her breath as Sharon slid in next to her. As Sharon wiggled into place, Andrea had to bite the inside of her lip; Sharon’s skirt had ridden up several inches, exposing her creamy white skin, the same skin that was now pressed rather snugly against Andrea’s trousers. She didn’t know if she wanted to curse or thank the thin fabric that served as their only barrier.
“Well, I guess we’ll be having a cozy dinner,” Sharon joked, rubbing Andrea’s arm. “I completely forgot about the concert tonight, I didn’t even think to check the schedule. I should have picked a different restaurant, I’m sorry.”
Andrea shook her head and smiled, “No, no. This is fine. We can just sit on top of one another for the next hour and a half,” she deadpanned. She raised an eyebrow as Sharon laughed and finally, mercifully released her arm.
Sharon regarded the menu. “Scallops?” she asked.
Andrea pursed her lips and pretended to consider ordering something else. But, it was no use. Sharon knew her better than anyone else, and she knew that if given the choice, Andrea would always order seafood over meat or pasta. “Scallops,” she confirmed.
Sharon giggled. “Knew you would.” The server came moments later and took their orders. Sharon winked at Andrea when she told the young man what she wanted, and she nearly stumbled over her own words. Orders placed and wine glasses filled, he cleared their menus away and left them to hurry off to the kitchen.
Andrea watched Sharon for a moment as she tried to think of something to talk about. She hated that she felt so awkward; she had sat this close to Sharon a hundred times before in their own homes. Maybe it would be easier if you could stop noticing how beautiful she looks tonight, a little voice nagged her. Damn this restaurant for having only the narrowest booth in all of LA left, and damn Sharon Raydor for wearing that stupid pencil skirt of hers.
“So your daughter is coming in to see you next week, right? Are you excited to see her?” Andrea asked pleasantly. Kids were always a safe topic, and Sharon could talk about hers for hours if you let her.
“Oh, yes. She’s flying in on Monday. I hope I’ll be able to take at least one day out of the office with her, but you know how it goes, chances are slim, especially with Brenda Leigh Johnson acting out more and more frequently,” Sharon smirked darkly, “Pope has all but asked me to babysit her and her division lately. It’s been...frustrating to say the least,” Sharon sighed, “I understand her frustrations, I truly do; but she and her detectives are making it very difficult for me to have anything but negative reports to give to Pope.”
Sharon wiggled in her seat, her thigh rubbing against Andrea’s, as she vented about her job. Andrea sighed quietly, she was all too aware of Sharon’s body pressed and moving up against hers. She pursed her lips and nodded her head in what she hoped were the right spots in Sharon’s story, because all she could think about was how even through her trousers, she could feel the warmth of Sharon’s skin. She could smell Sharon’s subtle perfume every time Sharon fidgeted with her hair or leaned in to murmur a swear word that she didn’t want the other patrons to hear. Andrea hastily scanned the room and observed the servers, surely their food would come soon, yes?
Luckily for Andrea, their waiter walked out of the kitchen with their food just as Sharon was finishing a summary of her daughter’s travel schedule for the next week. At least now she could focus on eating instead of focusing on the feel of Sharon’s legs against her own, or the fantasy of Sharon’s legs wrapped around her. She hadn’t meant for her mind to go there, but with Sharon fidgeting against her all evening, it was difficult to keep her thoughts in line.
“How are your scallops?” Sharon chirped as she took a bite of the halibut she had ordered.
“Delicious,” Andrea smiled back at Sharon, watching her for a moment. “How’s your meal?”
“Divine,” Sharon mused breathily, “Would you like to try some?”
Andrea swallowed hard as she felt Sharon’s hand on her thigh under the table. She knew Sharon had only put her hand there so she could lean over to offer her a bite, but it was still nearly too much for Andrea to handle. Sharon extended her arm across the small table to offer her fork to Andrea, a grin spreading across her face as she did it. Andrea cursed inwardly, didn’t Sharon understand how this looked? How it felt? They were sitting so close there was no way not to touch all night, and now Sharon was resting her hand on Andrea’s inner thigh so she could feed her. Certainly every single soul in this restaurant had to assume they were a couple. She doesn’t mean anything by it, Andrea chided herself as she accepted the food from Sharon, allowing the older woman to feed it to her.
“That is good,” Andrea muttered, smiling nervously at Sharon. The truth of the matter was she’d completely lost her appetite, thanks to Sharon’s little gesture.
For the rest of their meal, Andrea only managed a few more bites of her dish. She mostly poked at the scallops and rice in her dish miserably, while Sharon looked on critically. “Is there something wrong with your meal?” she asked, “I thought you said you were starving at the exhibit?” she teased.
“Oh, you know, classic my eyes are bigger than my stomach scenario,” Andrea said with a nonchalant shrug. “It’s excellent, but I guess I should have maybe stuck with a salad.”
“You never eat just salad,” Sharon scoffed, “not for dinner anyway. And not when there’s seafood on the menu.”
Andrea smiled at Sharon and shook her head. Sharon really did know her better than anyone else. “Yes, I know. I’ll be alright. I can take this home and eat it later if I’m hungry.”
Sharon nodded as she pulled her wallet out of her handbag and scooped the check up off the corner of the table. Andrea pursed her lips and furrowed her brow. “What are you doing?”
“I’m paying for dinner. My treat for making you look at those photographs.” Sharon flashed a dazzling smile at Andrea as she slid her credit card into the check holder and set it back down. “And besides, I like treating you.”
“We’re not dating,” Andrea blurted out, and regretted her words as soon as she said them.
Sharon froze and regarded her carefully. “No, who said we were?” she asked softly.
“I mean, what I mean is, we’re friends. We do things equally. You’re not taking me out on a date, you don’t have a reason to impress me, you shouldn’t have to pay,” Andrea backtracked desperately, doing her best to explain herself.
“Well,” Sharon drawled, “as you stated, we’re friends. Sometimes friends do nice things for each other. Don’t make such a big deal out of it Andrea,” Sharon said, frowning. “And I should hope that you view issues of financial equality a little differently when it comes to your romantic relationships as well,” she said coolly.
“Excuse me?” Andrea asked, her voice carried a decidedly different tone than it had a moment ago.
“Well, it’s just that, do you always let your dates pay for you? Your statement seems to indicate-”
“What I do, when I date, who I date, who pays, is none of your business Sharon,” Andrea said; her tone was hard like granite now.
Sharon looked slightly taken aback, she cleared her throat. “You’re absolutely right. It’s not my business, and I had no right saying that,” she said softly as the server returned. She made quick work of signing the bill and leaving a generous tip for their server.
Andrea followed Sharon out of the restaurant and back to the car in the museum’s parking lot in silence. During their nights out, they often carpooled and tonight, Andrea had offered to drive them. The ride back to Sharon’s house, though it was only twenty minutes, felt like an eternity. Neither woman dared to say anything and Sharon spent much of the ride staring out her window, her body turned as much away from Andrea as it could be. Andrea had contemplated apologizing, but she didn’t know what to say. It was true that who she dated and what she did wasn’t any of Sharon’s business, but she hadn’t meant to snap at her like that. Part of her had resented Sharon altogether for having the nerve to even bring up her love life, or lack thereof recently. No, there hadn’t been anyone in Andrea’s life, or in her bed, because she spent nearly every free evening she had with Sharon lately.
As they pulled up to the front of Sharon’s building, Andrea let out a quiet sigh. She wished the evening could end differently, on a happier note, but they were both too stubborn to move past their tiff at dinner.
“Well, thank you for driving me home. I’ll see you at work on Monday,” Sharon muttered as she grabbed her purse off the floorboard and opened her door. She let herself out of the car, without so much as a glance at the blonde sitting in the driver’s seat.
“Right, see you on Monday,” Andrea returned. She watched longingly as Sharon walked away from her car and into the building. Only when she saw that Sharon had passed the front desk and was on her way to the elevator did she finally drive off.
The first thing that Sharon did when she let herself into her condo was kick off her shoes. The second thing was to run her fingers through her hair and let out a sigh of relief. Usually days with Andrea flew by; they had fun together. It felt natural to be around her, to be close to her; it usually felt good to be in her presence. Today had been full of awkward pauses and uncomfortable glances and then, of course, their argument. She chalked it up to nerves; sitting that close to Andrea for over an hour was more than she could handle, it made her entirely too nervous.
She made quick work of changing her clothes and washing her makeup off before climbing into bed. Trying to sleep, however, was no use. She couldn’t stop thinking about her disagreement with Andrea. Why had she snapped at her? Both she and Andrea had paid for dinner for each other dozens of times before. Why was it suddenly different tonight? If she was being honest, a lot of things had been different between them lately and being Andrea’s friend was starting to feel like a difficult task. There were the prolonged touches and glances that sent shivers up and down Sharon’s spine, and then there were the awkward silences and the hasty retreats like tonight.
Andrea was an enigma, and their friendship was starting to become one too.
Sharon let out a quiet sigh and grabbed her phone and glasses off the nightstand. She couldn’t just go to bed and leave things the way they were with Andrea. They’d never fought before, why should they start now? No, she would fix this. At the very least, she would apologize. Again.
I’m sorry I upset you at dinner, Andrea. I didn’t mean to step over the line. I appreciate you going to the museum with me today, I know it really wasn’t your thing, that’s why I wanted to treat you to dinner...thank you. Friends?
Andrea tried to ignore the buzzing on her nightstand. She knew who it was going to be and she wasn’t quite ready to face whatever it was Sharon had to say. She knew she’d behaved poorly this evening, but Sharon could be downright infuriating sometimes. Why did she have to do and say things that made Andrea feel like they were dating when she herself had very clearly stated that they were not? Why did she have to flirt and cuddle and do things like feed her and pay for her dinner? Sharon couldn’t possibly be aware of how much she was leading her on, could she? Surely, she wouldn’t flirt with her just for fun, would she? After a few moments of resolve, curiosity got the best of Andrea and she grabbed her phone to read Sharon’s message and respond.
It’s alright. I’m sorry I snapped at you, it was out of line. I enjoyed the museum. I enjoyed the day with you, Sharon. I always do. Yes. Friends... night.
Friends. They were friends, and only friends. Andrea rolled her eyes and set her phone back down so she could bury herself in her duvet. How could someone as wonderful as Sharon Raydor make her feel so miserable, yet so amazing at the same time?