RF Such Is My Life, pt 8
Title: Such Is My Life
Pairing: The Closer - Raydor/Flynn
Rating: M for language, sexual situations
Part 8
Andy Flynn isn’t himself anymore and that makes him crazy. The last time he was this much in his own head, well, there was a lot of alcohol involved. It certainly made him stop thinking, at least until he sobered up, which is why he was rarely sober. But alcohol isn’t an option now, which annoys him and makes him cranky. He’d blame her for it, and he does, which gets Provenza off his back. But he wants to really blame her for it, seeing that it is all her fault, and to really blame her he needs to tell why she’s making him crazy. But he can’t. So he stays moody and scowls at her until she catches him looking.
Dinner doesn’t happen, but later in the week Daniel has a game so he meets her at that. He sits by Sharon and they talk about how great their son plays. She’s wearing her perfume. He feels like a schoolboy. She smiles politely and Danny glares at him when his mother isn’t looking. Flynn notes that it isn’t a Raydor glare, and that makes him smile because he decides it must be one of his.
“So the holiday is coming up, do you have plans?” she asks while Danny heads for the car.
“Plans?”
“With your, well, if you do…”
“No, I don’t have plans. Ex is out of town, so Jesse goes with her.”
“I’m sorry about that, Andy.”
“Me too,” he shrugs. “So what did you have in mind?”
“You could come over, if you’d like. Maybe grill. I told Danny he could invite some friends over, so well, that way you want have to endure his glares for the whole evening.”
Flynn cracks a smile. “So you noticed that too?”
“I wasn’t always in FID, detective,” she returns with a grin of her own.
“Still getting the cold shoulder?”
“We had a whole three sentence conversation the other day. I see that as progress.” She pushes her shades on top of her head, glancing at Daniel as he climbs into the driver’s side of the Jeep. “We need to tell him. I just don’t know how.”
Flynn watches his son pretend to play with the radio dial as he sneaks glances towards them. “Telling him sooner rather than later is best I suppose.”
“I thought you’d be ready by now,” Sharon faces him, her off duty look of blue jeans and a cotton tee still throwing him for a loop.
“I think I like you in casual clothes.”
“Good dodge.”
He smirks. “Right now he just hates me because he thinks I’m an asshole. How much do you think he’s going to hate me when he finds out that I’m not just an ass, but that he’s related to me?”
“He’ll get over it.” Sharon frowns as Flynn drops his gaze and kicks at the grass. “Andy,” she says, placing her hand on his arm so that he looks at her, “he will get over it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s my son, too.”
He holds her gaze until she drops her hand and starts to turn away. “They haven’t said anything.”
“Did you think they would?” She looks toward the Jeep and he knows she’s thinking of walking away.
“Gabriel maybe, but Sanchez isn’t stupid. Beside, Louie thinks I hate you again so I know they haven’t said anything.”
“Do you hate me again?” Sharon asks, not looking at him until he doesn’t answer and curiosity gets the best of her. He shrugs when she meets his eyes.
“You haven’t said anything.”
“I said it was getting complicated.”
Flynn sighs, hiding his brown eyes behind dark shades. “Isn’t it always?”
“Danny is going to honk the horn,” she says, taking a step toward the car and putting her shades back over her eyes.
“So want me to bring the food?” he asks, following her.
“No, just show up.”
A few feet from her car, Flynn takes her hand, which makes her stop and turn to him. “I don’t hate you.” She purses her lips, her eyes hidden behind her shades, but her mouth studying him. Finally she nods.
“I don’t hate you either.”
“Well, at least one Raydor is sort of on my side.”
“I didn’t say that,” she grins and he wants to call her an ass, but he doesn’t. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” He waves at Danny, calling out, “you did great,” which gets him a polite nod and a mumbled thanks. Flynn walks away, thinking how both of them are making him crazy and he’d really love a drink. He glances at his watch, remembering that it’s Tuesday and Stan doesn’t work on Tuesday. He needs to read over some files anyway, he decides, as he climbs in his car and starts the drive home.
Sharon Raydor soon knows why Lieutenant Andy Flynn didn’t cut it in undercover work. He’s too obvious. The ‘goes with his gut’ cop is miffed at her about something, which she can but will not name, and so he doesn’t have to pretend to be annoyed with her at work. Unlike Provenza’s treatment of her, she doesn’t mind Flynn’s so much if only because she doesn’t care to address his issue with her anyway.
Sanchez and Gabriel are another story, and she loves toying with them whenever given the chance. It amazes her how many times she can find Andy Flynn coming out of a room by himself just as either Sanchez or Gabriel or both are rounding a corner. Perhaps it is mean of her to do so, but if killing two birds with one stone is great, getting three at once is just an ultimate prize too good not to go after.
“Oh, Lieutenant Flynn,” she coyly calls to him just outside the men’s room two seconds before Gabriel rounds the corner. From over Flynn’s shoulder she sees the younger detective stop short as if suddenly uncertain of his destination. “I need to talk to you about some files,” Sharon smiles sweetly, her eyes glinting.
“Files?” Andy wipes at his hands with a paper towel, knowing Sharon is up to something, but afraid to guess.
“The Thompson case, it was a few years back.”
“Yeah, I remember that one. When do you need to talk?”
“When do you have time?” She notices the bit of mustard on his tie, taking his towel to wipe it away. “Missed a spot,” Sharon grins and notices Gabriel looking even more awkward than she thought possible.
“Uh, time, um,” Andy stammers.
“Never mind, Detective, now that I think about it, I need to give the files one more look over before talking to you.” She hands back the towel, smiles her flashiest smile and turns on her heel. Flynn is left confused.
“Um, may I?” Gabriel dares ask, gesturing to the bathroom door Flynn is blocking.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Andy moves, watching as Gabriel rushes past him. “So you wanna play,” he murmurs as the realization of what Sharon is up to sinks in. “Okay, fine. We can play.”
Flynn notices patterns more than anything. In his line of work, life and death is determined by patterns, so it pays to be on the lookout for them. It doesn’t take him long to figure out Raydor’s. Like clockwork, she’s in by 8 every morning. She goes to her desk, puts down her briefcase and purse, grabs her coffee cup and heads to the break room. If she’s in the office at 11:30, she tries to grab lunch, if not, she eats when she can like most cops. By afternoon, she needs another jolt, so if she’s at her desk it’s back to the break room for another round of coffee. Which is where he finds himself luckily enough when she’s already there as well as when nobody else is around the office except for the two bumbling stakeout detectives.
“Smells good,” he whispers, alerting her that he is well within her personal space. Raydor’s good though, the jolt to her system no more than a quick intake of breath and not even noticeable except to him simply because he is so close to her.
“Made it myself,” she manages to say as she debates if she should even attempt to turn round. “You, uh, need something?”
Flynn could shift a few inches to the side and give her some breathing room, but he doesn’t intend to do so. “Just wondering about,” he pauses, debating if he should push it and rest his chin on her shoulder. He grins and decides not. “The Thompson files.” The door opens, Sanchez mutters a surprised ‘sorry,’ shuffles about and then the door closes. Flynn eases back, leaning against the counter while Raydor puts the coffee pot back and glares at him.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Two can play at this game,” he shrugs, “just thought you shouldn’t get to have all the fun.”
“Detective Flynn,” she sits her mug down and starts to put her hand on her hip.
“Captain Raydor.” Flynn stands, reaches for the coffee pot and fills his mug. He glances at her, happy to see she’s at a lost for words. He gives her a moment, seeing if she’ll come up with anything.
Sharon sighs. “That was unprofessional, what I did to you the other day.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you enjoy getting a rise out of Gabriel by flirting with me?” She starts to smile but quickly tries to hide it. Flynn leans in close, whispering in her ear, “I got a rise out of it, flirting with you.” Stunned, Sharon recovers too late, watching the door close behind Andy Flynn.
“I mean, it was stupid of me to do it, but well something just came over me,” Sharon sighs in between sips of her wine. The man sitting across from her at the small corner table is a bit older, blue eyes full of mischief, and what’s left of his gray hair tasteful trimmed. He sips at his scotch neat in an attempt to quell his laugh, but his eyes give him away. “What?”
“It’s called letting loose, Raydor. Took you long enough.”
“Sarge,” she starts, but his laugh cuts her off.
“Andy Flynn has you all in a thither. I never would have thought it,” her training officer, retired Sergeant Sam Wagner guffaws. “And so he gave a bit back and now what, you digging in that rule book?”
Sharon hides her frown behind her wine glass. “I like my rule book.”
“It’s good most times, but remember what I taught you?”
“I don’t think now is the time for me to start tossing it aside, Sarge.”
Wagner sits his glass down and leans on his elbows. “Ok, let me go back over the evidence. You and Flynn did the deed, which gave you Daniel. Now you’ve both figured this out and haven’t yet told Daniel, so you’re sneaking around not just at the office but at home. All that sneaking tends to lead to some interesting situations.” Wagner grins, “Human nature and all that.”
“Perhaps,” Sharon shrugs.
“What are you not telling me?” Wagner studies her, and Sharon deflects her gaze.
“So what do you know about him?”
Sam sits back, signaling for another drink. “You’ve read his file. More than once now I hear. How’s the investigation going?”
“Slow,” Raydor huffs, nodding when the waiter asks if she wants another glass of white, “You know how these things go. One investigation opens the floodgate for more.”
“So you and Flynn will be seeing a lot of each other for sometime,” he winks.
“You’re not as cute as you think you are.”
“You still love me, Raydor, and one day you’ll admit it.”
“Ha!” Sharon sips her wine to hide her smile.
“Andy Flynn,” Sam begins, sliding his finger along the rim of his glass. “When he was drinking, it was rough, but since he’s been sober I haven’t heard more than the usual on him. He acts from his gut, bit emotional for my taste.” He glances at Raydor. “But I lucked out with you.” She scoffs, and Wagner chuckles. “Are you asking how is he as a man or as a cop?”
“Is there a difference?”
Sam holds her gaze, reviewing the situation. “Raydor, Raydor, Raydor. I never thought you would.”
Sharon jerks her eyes up to his. “I would what?”
“Don’t play innocent with me.” Sam takes a drink, enjoying both the slow burn of the scotch and the look in Sharon’s eyes. “You and Andy Flynn.”
“He is the father of my son.”
“And not near a bastard like the one you once thought was. No, there’s more to this than parental concern.”
“So how’s Abby?”
“Two kids down, one on the way. Calls every three days and visits once a month. And you have feelings for Andy Flynn.”
“You can call them that,” Sharon quips, downing her drink. “Felt like strangling him earlier.”
Wagner holds back a grin, knowing his probie all too well. “So call me in a couple of days when you let yourself in on the secret, okay.”
“Call you?” Sharon asks as she stands and reaches for her purse.
“So I can tell you I told you so.” Wagner shakes his head when she tries to pay. “I got this one. Go rest that pretty head of yours. You’re going to need all your wits if you’re tangling with Andy Flynn.”
Sharon hesitates, but lets the old man have his way. “Thanks for listening, Sam.”
“Anytime,” he holds up his glass while she walks away, muttering again about her tangling with Andy Flynn as he sips his drink.
Cranberry and soda won’t ever replace what he’d rather be drinking while saddled up to the bar, spilling his secrets to Stan, but times change and so did Andy Flynn.
“So wait, you have a kid with her?”
“Yeah, you know, crazy huh?” Flynn uses one of those little black straws to stir the ice in his drink as Stan wipes down the bar and moves to refill the peanut bowl beside him. Forty or so with a pot belly and a tight lip, Stan and Flynn go way back to the best and worst of his drinking days. Even though Stan hates the cut in revue from him being sober, he much prefers Flynn as a friend than as a drunk and disorderly.
“With the hellcat that was in here the other day?”
“Yep.”
Stan lets out a whistle. “Got yourself a tiger.”
“By the tail,” Flynn finishes, tossing a peanut in his mouth.
“You know,” Stan pauses in mid-wipe of his cloth as a thought strikes him, “I think she can take the ex.”
“Oh I know she can,” Andy grins. “And yes that did cross my mind, but she’s a cop, too. FID.”
“Ouch. You did screw yourself royally.”
“Aw, she’s not that bad.”
Stan moves away, filling an order for one of the waitresses then grabbing a beer for a guy a couple of stools down. When he comes back to Flynn, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “She does have a nice pair.”
“Nice set, too.”
“I hear those good little girl types have the wildest sides. Is it true?”
Flynn shrugs, “Can’t remember. Well, just in flashes.”
“Damn man, that’d be the one you’d want to remember, too.” Stan laughs, sipping on a water as he leans back against the counter. “So what’s your problem? She won’t let you see the kid?”
“No, she’s been fair about that, more than I thought she would be.” Flynn wipes the peanut oil from his fingers on a napkin and braces his elbows on the bar. “She just, she makes me crazy.”
“Oh, no, you need to get out now then. Cut and run.”
“Cut and run?”
“Your ex, before you married her, she made you crazy right?” Flynn gives this a moment of thought before nodding. “Well, that right there should be enough warning.”
“It’s just physical, Stan,” Flynn shrugs him off. “You’ve had that right? Got a little wasted, ended up with a fox in your bed but you can’t remember it so you want to have another go.”
“Uh, Andy, that go was a while back if the kid is nearly sixteen and you can think of it that way if you want, but having a go and going crazy are two very different things my friend.” Andy frowns. “The woman I saw was certainly full of passion, so I can’t say I blame you for wanting a taste of it. But I can’t recall seeing you this messed up over a hellcat.”
“Messed up?”
“You’re the man, Andy Flynn. You love ‘em and leave ‘em. If this is just physical, go pick up Jules over there. She’ll make you forget all about the hellcat.”
Flynn turns toward the booth in the corner Stan is gesturing at to see a very attractive twenty-something blonde. She sips her cocktail and laughs at something her dark haired friend says. Instead of thinking Stan’s right and heading her way, Flynn feels his lip slide downward as he picks up his glass. “Not my type,” he reluctantly admits.
“Since when?”
“What day is it again,” he quips, downing his drink.
“Want another?”
“Think I’ll call it a night. Thanks for the ear, Stan.” Flynn lays down a twenty and heads for the door while Stan collects the money and shakes his head.
“Another one bites the dust,” he mumbles.
Across town, David Gabriel pushes his beer away from him and shakes his head. “I’m just going to tell her we didn’t see anything and pray she lets it go.”
“You’re an idiot,” Julio Sanchez replies, waving away the bartender. “If you say anything you are admitting you saw something. You think she’s on you now. I just hope I don’t have to ride with Flynn anytime soon.”
“Flynn? What’d he do?”
Sanchez raises his brow and shakes his head slowly. “Just be glad you weren’t there.”
“So what, we just deal with this?”
“Gabriel, if you so much as think about talking to her, I’ll choke you myself.”
“Fine,” David sighs before taking a swing of his beer. “But can we at least do something to Provenza?”
“I’m already working on that one,” Sanchez grins.
Pairing: The Closer - Raydor/Flynn
Rating: M for language, sexual situations
Part 8
Andy Flynn isn’t himself anymore and that makes him crazy. The last time he was this much in his own head, well, there was a lot of alcohol involved. It certainly made him stop thinking, at least until he sobered up, which is why he was rarely sober. But alcohol isn’t an option now, which annoys him and makes him cranky. He’d blame her for it, and he does, which gets Provenza off his back. But he wants to really blame her for it, seeing that it is all her fault, and to really blame her he needs to tell why she’s making him crazy. But he can’t. So he stays moody and scowls at her until she catches him looking.
Dinner doesn’t happen, but later in the week Daniel has a game so he meets her at that. He sits by Sharon and they talk about how great their son plays. She’s wearing her perfume. He feels like a schoolboy. She smiles politely and Danny glares at him when his mother isn’t looking. Flynn notes that it isn’t a Raydor glare, and that makes him smile because he decides it must be one of his.
“So the holiday is coming up, do you have plans?” she asks while Danny heads for the car.
“Plans?”
“With your, well, if you do…”
“No, I don’t have plans. Ex is out of town, so Jesse goes with her.”
“I’m sorry about that, Andy.”
“Me too,” he shrugs. “So what did you have in mind?”
“You could come over, if you’d like. Maybe grill. I told Danny he could invite some friends over, so well, that way you want have to endure his glares for the whole evening.”
Flynn cracks a smile. “So you noticed that too?”
“I wasn’t always in FID, detective,” she returns with a grin of her own.
“Still getting the cold shoulder?”
“We had a whole three sentence conversation the other day. I see that as progress.” She pushes her shades on top of her head, glancing at Daniel as he climbs into the driver’s side of the Jeep. “We need to tell him. I just don’t know how.”
Flynn watches his son pretend to play with the radio dial as he sneaks glances towards them. “Telling him sooner rather than later is best I suppose.”
“I thought you’d be ready by now,” Sharon faces him, her off duty look of blue jeans and a cotton tee still throwing him for a loop.
“I think I like you in casual clothes.”
“Good dodge.”
He smirks. “Right now he just hates me because he thinks I’m an asshole. How much do you think he’s going to hate me when he finds out that I’m not just an ass, but that he’s related to me?”
“He’ll get over it.” Sharon frowns as Flynn drops his gaze and kicks at the grass. “Andy,” she says, placing her hand on his arm so that he looks at her, “he will get over it.”
“How do you know?”
“Because he’s my son, too.”
He holds her gaze until she drops her hand and starts to turn away. “They haven’t said anything.”
“Did you think they would?” She looks toward the Jeep and he knows she’s thinking of walking away.
“Gabriel maybe, but Sanchez isn’t stupid. Beside, Louie thinks I hate you again so I know they haven’t said anything.”
“Do you hate me again?” Sharon asks, not looking at him until he doesn’t answer and curiosity gets the best of her. He shrugs when she meets his eyes.
“You haven’t said anything.”
“I said it was getting complicated.”
Flynn sighs, hiding his brown eyes behind dark shades. “Isn’t it always?”
“Danny is going to honk the horn,” she says, taking a step toward the car and putting her shades back over her eyes.
“So want me to bring the food?” he asks, following her.
“No, just show up.”
A few feet from her car, Flynn takes her hand, which makes her stop and turn to him. “I don’t hate you.” She purses her lips, her eyes hidden behind her shades, but her mouth studying him. Finally she nods.
“I don’t hate you either.”
“Well, at least one Raydor is sort of on my side.”
“I didn’t say that,” she grins and he wants to call her an ass, but he doesn’t. “See you tomorrow.”
“See you then.” He waves at Danny, calling out, “you did great,” which gets him a polite nod and a mumbled thanks. Flynn walks away, thinking how both of them are making him crazy and he’d really love a drink. He glances at his watch, remembering that it’s Tuesday and Stan doesn’t work on Tuesday. He needs to read over some files anyway, he decides, as he climbs in his car and starts the drive home.
Sharon Raydor soon knows why Lieutenant Andy Flynn didn’t cut it in undercover work. He’s too obvious. The ‘goes with his gut’ cop is miffed at her about something, which she can but will not name, and so he doesn’t have to pretend to be annoyed with her at work. Unlike Provenza’s treatment of her, she doesn’t mind Flynn’s so much if only because she doesn’t care to address his issue with her anyway.
Sanchez and Gabriel are another story, and she loves toying with them whenever given the chance. It amazes her how many times she can find Andy Flynn coming out of a room by himself just as either Sanchez or Gabriel or both are rounding a corner. Perhaps it is mean of her to do so, but if killing two birds with one stone is great, getting three at once is just an ultimate prize too good not to go after.
“Oh, Lieutenant Flynn,” she coyly calls to him just outside the men’s room two seconds before Gabriel rounds the corner. From over Flynn’s shoulder she sees the younger detective stop short as if suddenly uncertain of his destination. “I need to talk to you about some files,” Sharon smiles sweetly, her eyes glinting.
“Files?” Andy wipes at his hands with a paper towel, knowing Sharon is up to something, but afraid to guess.
“The Thompson case, it was a few years back.”
“Yeah, I remember that one. When do you need to talk?”
“When do you have time?” She notices the bit of mustard on his tie, taking his towel to wipe it away. “Missed a spot,” Sharon grins and notices Gabriel looking even more awkward than she thought possible.
“Uh, time, um,” Andy stammers.
“Never mind, Detective, now that I think about it, I need to give the files one more look over before talking to you.” She hands back the towel, smiles her flashiest smile and turns on her heel. Flynn is left confused.
“Um, may I?” Gabriel dares ask, gesturing to the bathroom door Flynn is blocking.
“Oh, yeah, sorry.” Andy moves, watching as Gabriel rushes past him. “So you wanna play,” he murmurs as the realization of what Sharon is up to sinks in. “Okay, fine. We can play.”
Flynn notices patterns more than anything. In his line of work, life and death is determined by patterns, so it pays to be on the lookout for them. It doesn’t take him long to figure out Raydor’s. Like clockwork, she’s in by 8 every morning. She goes to her desk, puts down her briefcase and purse, grabs her coffee cup and heads to the break room. If she’s in the office at 11:30, she tries to grab lunch, if not, she eats when she can like most cops. By afternoon, she needs another jolt, so if she’s at her desk it’s back to the break room for another round of coffee. Which is where he finds himself luckily enough when she’s already there as well as when nobody else is around the office except for the two bumbling stakeout detectives.
“Smells good,” he whispers, alerting her that he is well within her personal space. Raydor’s good though, the jolt to her system no more than a quick intake of breath and not even noticeable except to him simply because he is so close to her.
“Made it myself,” she manages to say as she debates if she should even attempt to turn round. “You, uh, need something?”
Flynn could shift a few inches to the side and give her some breathing room, but he doesn’t intend to do so. “Just wondering about,” he pauses, debating if he should push it and rest his chin on her shoulder. He grins and decides not. “The Thompson files.” The door opens, Sanchez mutters a surprised ‘sorry,’ shuffles about and then the door closes. Flynn eases back, leaning against the counter while Raydor puts the coffee pot back and glares at him.
“What do you think you are doing?”
“Two can play at this game,” he shrugs, “just thought you shouldn’t get to have all the fun.”
“Detective Flynn,” she sits her mug down and starts to put her hand on her hip.
“Captain Raydor.” Flynn stands, reaches for the coffee pot and fills his mug. He glances at her, happy to see she’s at a lost for words. He gives her a moment, seeing if she’ll come up with anything.
Sharon sighs. “That was unprofessional, what I did to you the other day.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Excuse me?”
“Did you enjoy getting a rise out of Gabriel by flirting with me?” She starts to smile but quickly tries to hide it. Flynn leans in close, whispering in her ear, “I got a rise out of it, flirting with you.” Stunned, Sharon recovers too late, watching the door close behind Andy Flynn.
“I mean, it was stupid of me to do it, but well something just came over me,” Sharon sighs in between sips of her wine. The man sitting across from her at the small corner table is a bit older, blue eyes full of mischief, and what’s left of his gray hair tasteful trimmed. He sips at his scotch neat in an attempt to quell his laugh, but his eyes give him away. “What?”
“It’s called letting loose, Raydor. Took you long enough.”
“Sarge,” she starts, but his laugh cuts her off.
“Andy Flynn has you all in a thither. I never would have thought it,” her training officer, retired Sergeant Sam Wagner guffaws. “And so he gave a bit back and now what, you digging in that rule book?”
Sharon hides her frown behind her wine glass. “I like my rule book.”
“It’s good most times, but remember what I taught you?”
“I don’t think now is the time for me to start tossing it aside, Sarge.”
Wagner sits his glass down and leans on his elbows. “Ok, let me go back over the evidence. You and Flynn did the deed, which gave you Daniel. Now you’ve both figured this out and haven’t yet told Daniel, so you’re sneaking around not just at the office but at home. All that sneaking tends to lead to some interesting situations.” Wagner grins, “Human nature and all that.”
“Perhaps,” Sharon shrugs.
“What are you not telling me?” Wagner studies her, and Sharon deflects her gaze.
“So what do you know about him?”
Sam sits back, signaling for another drink. “You’ve read his file. More than once now I hear. How’s the investigation going?”
“Slow,” Raydor huffs, nodding when the waiter asks if she wants another glass of white, “You know how these things go. One investigation opens the floodgate for more.”
“So you and Flynn will be seeing a lot of each other for sometime,” he winks.
“You’re not as cute as you think you are.”
“You still love me, Raydor, and one day you’ll admit it.”
“Ha!” Sharon sips her wine to hide her smile.
“Andy Flynn,” Sam begins, sliding his finger along the rim of his glass. “When he was drinking, it was rough, but since he’s been sober I haven’t heard more than the usual on him. He acts from his gut, bit emotional for my taste.” He glances at Raydor. “But I lucked out with you.” She scoffs, and Wagner chuckles. “Are you asking how is he as a man or as a cop?”
“Is there a difference?”
Sam holds her gaze, reviewing the situation. “Raydor, Raydor, Raydor. I never thought you would.”
Sharon jerks her eyes up to his. “I would what?”
“Don’t play innocent with me.” Sam takes a drink, enjoying both the slow burn of the scotch and the look in Sharon’s eyes. “You and Andy Flynn.”
“He is the father of my son.”
“And not near a bastard like the one you once thought was. No, there’s more to this than parental concern.”
“So how’s Abby?”
“Two kids down, one on the way. Calls every three days and visits once a month. And you have feelings for Andy Flynn.”
“You can call them that,” Sharon quips, downing her drink. “Felt like strangling him earlier.”
Wagner holds back a grin, knowing his probie all too well. “So call me in a couple of days when you let yourself in on the secret, okay.”
“Call you?” Sharon asks as she stands and reaches for her purse.
“So I can tell you I told you so.” Wagner shakes his head when she tries to pay. “I got this one. Go rest that pretty head of yours. You’re going to need all your wits if you’re tangling with Andy Flynn.”
Sharon hesitates, but lets the old man have his way. “Thanks for listening, Sam.”
“Anytime,” he holds up his glass while she walks away, muttering again about her tangling with Andy Flynn as he sips his drink.
Cranberry and soda won’t ever replace what he’d rather be drinking while saddled up to the bar, spilling his secrets to Stan, but times change and so did Andy Flynn.
“So wait, you have a kid with her?”
“Yeah, you know, crazy huh?” Flynn uses one of those little black straws to stir the ice in his drink as Stan wipes down the bar and moves to refill the peanut bowl beside him. Forty or so with a pot belly and a tight lip, Stan and Flynn go way back to the best and worst of his drinking days. Even though Stan hates the cut in revue from him being sober, he much prefers Flynn as a friend than as a drunk and disorderly.
“With the hellcat that was in here the other day?”
“Yep.”
Stan lets out a whistle. “Got yourself a tiger.”
“By the tail,” Flynn finishes, tossing a peanut in his mouth.
“You know,” Stan pauses in mid-wipe of his cloth as a thought strikes him, “I think she can take the ex.”
“Oh I know she can,” Andy grins. “And yes that did cross my mind, but she’s a cop, too. FID.”
“Ouch. You did screw yourself royally.”
“Aw, she’s not that bad.”
Stan moves away, filling an order for one of the waitresses then grabbing a beer for a guy a couple of stools down. When he comes back to Flynn, he’s grinning from ear to ear. “She does have a nice pair.”
“Nice set, too.”
“I hear those good little girl types have the wildest sides. Is it true?”
Flynn shrugs, “Can’t remember. Well, just in flashes.”
“Damn man, that’d be the one you’d want to remember, too.” Stan laughs, sipping on a water as he leans back against the counter. “So what’s your problem? She won’t let you see the kid?”
“No, she’s been fair about that, more than I thought she would be.” Flynn wipes the peanut oil from his fingers on a napkin and braces his elbows on the bar. “She just, she makes me crazy.”
“Oh, no, you need to get out now then. Cut and run.”
“Cut and run?”
“Your ex, before you married her, she made you crazy right?” Flynn gives this a moment of thought before nodding. “Well, that right there should be enough warning.”
“It’s just physical, Stan,” Flynn shrugs him off. “You’ve had that right? Got a little wasted, ended up with a fox in your bed but you can’t remember it so you want to have another go.”
“Uh, Andy, that go was a while back if the kid is nearly sixteen and you can think of it that way if you want, but having a go and going crazy are two very different things my friend.” Andy frowns. “The woman I saw was certainly full of passion, so I can’t say I blame you for wanting a taste of it. But I can’t recall seeing you this messed up over a hellcat.”
“Messed up?”
“You’re the man, Andy Flynn. You love ‘em and leave ‘em. If this is just physical, go pick up Jules over there. She’ll make you forget all about the hellcat.”
Flynn turns toward the booth in the corner Stan is gesturing at to see a very attractive twenty-something blonde. She sips her cocktail and laughs at something her dark haired friend says. Instead of thinking Stan’s right and heading her way, Flynn feels his lip slide downward as he picks up his glass. “Not my type,” he reluctantly admits.
“Since when?”
“What day is it again,” he quips, downing his drink.
“Want another?”
“Think I’ll call it a night. Thanks for the ear, Stan.” Flynn lays down a twenty and heads for the door while Stan collects the money and shakes his head.
“Another one bites the dust,” he mumbles.
Across town, David Gabriel pushes his beer away from him and shakes his head. “I’m just going to tell her we didn’t see anything and pray she lets it go.”
“You’re an idiot,” Julio Sanchez replies, waving away the bartender. “If you say anything you are admitting you saw something. You think she’s on you now. I just hope I don’t have to ride with Flynn anytime soon.”
“Flynn? What’d he do?”
Sanchez raises his brow and shakes his head slowly. “Just be glad you weren’t there.”
“So what, we just deal with this?”
“Gabriel, if you so much as think about talking to her, I’ll choke you myself.”
“Fine,” David sighs before taking a swing of his beer. “But can we at least do something to Provenza?”
“I’m already working on that one,” Sanchez grins.