Part of a 'We'
Title: Part of a 'We'
Rating: T
Fandom: Major Crimes
Characters: Sharon, Rusty
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Rusty and Sharon plan out their moves against the Donor. Set between episode 9 and after episode 10.
“What are we gonna do?” Rusty wasn’t sure when he’d become part of a we. But he did, and it was nice.
She had just finished taking pictures of his bruised and swollen face. It seemed like most photos of him were after fights or murders. Maybe they could change that one day. Sharon looked into his eyes. He knew she was fighting tears like he was.
“We can have him arrested right now.”
“For this?” This was nothing new to him. No one had threatened to come after his mother’s shitty boyfriend.
“This is child abuse and assault of a minor.”
Rusty shook his head. “I don’t want him arrested. I just want him out of my life.”
She smiled. “We can do that too. Let me clean you up now.”
She was so gentle applying the ointment to his bruise. “You’re good at this, Sharon.”
“You know, my son used to come home with all kinds of bruises.”
“He got into fights?”
“Sometimes. Mostly they were from playing football.”
“Was he good?”
There was a smile in her eyes. The look of a mother who loved her kids. “Yes, he was.”
“You miss them, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.” She rubbed in a little more of the ointment and said, “You’re all set, Rusty. Why don’t you get to bed? We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”
He nodded. She was going to cry in her room, quietly. He wouldn’t hear her, but he would know anyway. He’d be crying too. “Good night, Sharon.”
She smiled. “Good night, Rusty. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re home.”
He hugged her, tentatively. The hugging thing was still new to him. How messed up was it that he’d experienced most every sexual position imaginable, but a hug scared him? For the first time in his life, he felt like he could tell someone he loved her, and actually hear the words back. He was ready to feel them but not to say them.
He went to his room, got in his bed, and closed his eyes. They’d form a plan the next day. He could sleep easy knowing Sharon would keep him safe.
------------------------------------------------------
When he woke up, she was at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Rusty. Ready for breakfast?”
“The coffee’s still hot?”
She nodded. “I just made it.”
He went to the coffee pot and poured his cup. “Need any more, Sharon?”
“No thanks.”
He unplugged the coffee maker and fixed his coffee. Sharon started his breakfast. He sat down. “How can we get him out of our lives without arresting him?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. If he signs away his parental rights, you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“You think he’ll do it?”
She nodded. “If things go our way, he won’t have a choice.”
“Okay. What do you need from me?”
Although she smiled, her eyes were sad. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take more pictures of you. We need evidence of how bad it was.”
“Fine. But can we get pictures of us doing something fun, sometime?”
“Yes, I’d love that. Anything you want. Let’s fix our little problem, and then we’ll celebrate.” She reduced the Donor to a “little problem.” And the way she said it, he believed her. It was something they could fix--together.
Sharon served his breakfast. She was the only person who knew how he liked his eggs, and she’d never forgotten. Her coffee wasn’t bad either. She sat down, watching him eat. “This won’t be easy.”
“But it’ll work?”
“Trust me.”
“I do, Sharon.”
------------------------------------------------------------
When Sharon drove him to school, Rusty was surprised she didn’t tell him how to respond to the inevitable questions. She had thought of everything else. Maybe she was more focused on the Donor, and what to do with him. Sharon was very focused: That must be what made her such a good cop--and mother.
She’d taken his pictures, and then he took a shower. The ointment she had put on his bruise really worked overnight, but it was still clearly visible.
It had taken every bit of his self-restraint to keep him from beating the shit out of the Donor. When he saw the fist come at him, he knew he didn’t want to make more trouble for Sharon. And he didn’t want to disappoint her. Of course, she surprised him when she joked about shooting him in the head. He’d gotten to know her sense of humor--and, yes, she did have one--over the months he’d lived with her. And that wasn’t really a joke. She was as angry about it as Rusty was, maybe even more so.
“Have a good day, Rusty. If you need anything, call me.”
“And if you’re busy?”
She smiled. “Call the department. Someone will be there.”
Rusty had gotten to know all the men--and Sykes. He liked all of them for different reasons. He liked Provenza the most, though. The old man was what Rusty imagined a grandfather would be like. Plus, he liked the old man’s snark. He pretended to be a big grump, but he always looked after Rusty--and Sharon.
“Okay, Sharon. I got this.”
“I know you do.”
He smiled and got out of the car. He already had a story for when the inevitable happened.
---------------------------------------------------------
The inevitable never happened. He’d gone all day, and no one even mentioned his black eye. He knew they saw it, though. Their stares were certainly long enough.
Maybe they assumed he’d been in a fight. He did have a reputation of a hellion since putting those boys in the infirmary.
He was relieved, though. He didn’t want any more trouble for Sharon.
---------------------------------------------
Buzz picked him up. Sharon must have been working a case. He didn’t mind riding with Buzz. The man was always nice to him. Even when he’d been a pain in the ass.
“How do you feel, Rusty?”
“Fine. I guess Sharon told everyone what happened.”
Buzz nodded.
“Are they going to go after him?”
Buzz shook his head. “Captain Raydor said that’s not what you want. We’ll honor that.”
“I bet Provenza things we should arrest him, right?”
“We all do.”
“Sharon thinks I can get him out of my life. That’s what we’re gonna do.”
Buzz nodded. And they rode to the station in silence.
---------------------------------------------
When he and Buzz arrived at the station, the room was abuzz with activity. Sharon gave him a quick wave. He returned it, and went into her office. He had a lot of homework to do, and Sharon’s office was a nice quiet place.
He was over the whole Shakespeare thing. Hamlet wasn’t bad, but Romeo and Juliet sucked. He hoped Chaucer would be better.
“What are you reading?” Sharon asked. Rusty didn’t hear her come in. Maybe he was more engrossed in the crappy play than he thought.
He held up the book so she could see.
“Any good?”
“Eh. It’s so unrealistic.”
“Sometimes love is unrealistic.”
“That’s deep, Sharon. You could be a philosopher.”
She rolled her eyes. “In my ample spare time.”
He shrugged. Rusty knew better than anyone how busy Sharon was. He’d taken to doing as many chores around the house as she needed. She never asked, and he never made a fuss over it. He just did it. Sharon’s grateful and surprised smiles were enough. They discovered he wasn’t a bad cook either. Her job made it hard to share a lot of meals, but it was always nice when they could eat together.
“Can you take a little break from reading?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Mr. Dunn called. Twice.”
He nodded. “Yeah, he kinda stalked me all day.”
“Stalked?!”
“Whoa, Sharon. I just meant he called me several times. Should we answer, or call him back?”
She shook her head. “No. Let him come to us.”
“You mean here, at the station?”
“Of course. I think even he is smart enough to know not to come to our house.”
“You’d shoot him?”
“I’d certainly show him the business end of my gun.”
“You think he’ll come here?”
She nodded. “I can’t quite figure out his motives. But he seems very concerned about what Annie thinks. That’ll drive him here.”
“What will you do then?”
She smirked. “What I do best. Talk to him. Get him to dig his own grave. I warned him, people who tell me I don’t understand their situation usually end up under arrest--”
“You won’t arrest him, though, will you?”
“Only because that’s not what you want. But, Rusty, I’ll do what I have to to keep you safe. Plus, there’s those girls to think about.”
“They seemed nice. Too bad they have such an obnoxious mom and a possibly abusive future step-dad.”
“You can’t pick your family.”
“I did.”
Sharon brushed her eyes. Rusty knew that was her tell. She’d excuse herself and go in the bathroom. He was glad this time she’d be crying because he made her happy. He wished he could always make her happy.
“Alright. Why don’t you get back to the ‘starcrossed lovers.’ I’m gonna--”
“It’s okay, Sharon. Do what you have to.”
She smiled and scooted out of her office. Rusty shook his head and went back to reading about two teenagers in love. He really couldn’t see the appeal. He wished someone would write a book that spoke to him. Or something about characters he could respect--like Sharon or Flynn.
------------------------------------------------------
“Ready to go?”
Rusty nodded. “Can we get something to eat? My stomach’s eating my stomach.”
She smiled. “Of course. Can’t have that, can we?”
“Italian?”
She nodded. “Anything you want.” She paused. “Did you finish the play?”
“Yeah. They all died. Pretty stupid.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Love’s not like that.”
“It can be.”
“Was it like that for you?”
She shook her head. “Not with my husband, no. But with my kids...”
“You’d die for them?”
“I would.”
“I don’t think that’s the kind of love the ‘bard’ was talking about.”
“No, I guess not.”
“He’s wrong, though. That’s the best kind.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get some food in that stomach of yours.”
Rusty knew two things. Sharon would probably die for him if she had to. And he’d do the same for her. It wasn’t what Shakespeare was writing about, but it was better. It was that unconditional love crap they kept talking about in religious studies at school. Rusty didn’t know Jesus--didn’t have a personal relationship with him like the other kids claimed to. He had something better.
----------------------------------------------
“When do you think he’ll come?”
They sat at their table in Jo-Jo’s. Over the past months, they’d eaten there so many times, they practically had a designated table. They knew all the waiters. Sharon always ate eggplant parm, and he always ate lasagna. They never had to order, though. The waiter would just say hi and bring them their drinks and bread basket. The food would simply appear. And it was always good.
She shrugged. “Depends on how much Annie nags him, I guess.”
He smirked. “Not long then.”
“Probably not.” She took a bite. “Will you be okay with that?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing at first. Let me handle the initial meeting.”
He smiled. “Is that a good idea? You won’t shoot him?”
“I spent most of my career investigating use of force. I promise to behave.”
“What about your team?”
“They’ll behave too.”
“But if he--”
“They’ll stop behaving.”
“And you?”
She smiled. “I’ll stop too.”
He smiled. Tau and Flynn had told him all about the legendary beanbag incident. He wished he could have seen it. Sometimes he imagined Sharon shooting the Donor with one. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would hospitalize him. That would be enough for Rusty.
-------------------------------------------
Sharon was right. He’d come to her at the station a few days later--after leaving like a hundred messages on their phones.
She promised he’d only have to face him for a few moments, and then he’d have the problem taken care of for the rest of his life. That was a promise he believed.
She’d get what she wanted out of the Donor. That’s what she did for a living.
----------------------------------------------
“What do you need me to do?”
“I just need you to stand there. If you want to say anything, you can. I’ll be right beside you. Along with Flynn, Provenza, and the rest of the team. You have nothing to worry about.” She smiled. “There will also be the conference table between you.”
He nodded. “Can Sanchez stand behind him? I’d feel very safe, then.”
“Yes. That’s a good idea, Rusty.”
“And what will you say?”
“I’ll let him dig his own grave. Then I’ll burry him with the evidence and the thinly veiled threat.”
“About Annie and the girls?”
She nodded. “Hmm. Hmm.”
“You don’t think--”
“After we get what we want, I’ll file a report as a concerned citizen. I’ll do it anonymously. It’ll be up to them to investigate.”
He smiled. “You were always going to do that, weren’t you?”
She nodded. “A man like that shouldn’t be trusted with children.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
She patted his arm. “I’ll see you after school. Be good.”
He exited the car. He knew what ‘be good’ really meant. He’d take her ‘be goods’ over just about anyone else’s ‘I love yous.’
----------------------------------------------------------
“What does this mean, Sharon?”
“It means you can stay with me as a ward of the state.”
“For how long?”
“Until you’re eighteen.”
“And if my mom comes back?”
“She’d be charged with abandonment. That would mean jail time.”
“And I can still stay with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I like that.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
“And, Sharon, I love you too.”
She hugged him then. “I’m so glad for that, Rusty.”
“Let’s go home. Plan that fun thing.”
She wiped the tears that had fallen. “Okay. Let’s go.”
Rating: T
Fandom: Major Crimes
Characters: Sharon, Rusty
Disclaimer: don't own them.
Summary: Rusty and Sharon plan out their moves against the Donor. Set between episode 9 and after episode 10.
“What are we gonna do?” Rusty wasn’t sure when he’d become part of a we. But he did, and it was nice.
She had just finished taking pictures of his bruised and swollen face. It seemed like most photos of him were after fights or murders. Maybe they could change that one day. Sharon looked into his eyes. He knew she was fighting tears like he was.
“We can have him arrested right now.”
“For this?” This was nothing new to him. No one had threatened to come after his mother’s shitty boyfriend.
“This is child abuse and assault of a minor.”
Rusty shook his head. “I don’t want him arrested. I just want him out of my life.”
She smiled. “We can do that too. Let me clean you up now.”
She was so gentle applying the ointment to his bruise. “You’re good at this, Sharon.”
“You know, my son used to come home with all kinds of bruises.”
“He got into fights?”
“Sometimes. Mostly they were from playing football.”
“Was he good?”
There was a smile in her eyes. The look of a mother who loved her kids. “Yes, he was.”
“You miss them, don’t you?”
“Sometimes.” She rubbed in a little more of the ointment and said, “You’re all set, Rusty. Why don’t you get to bed? We’ll talk more about this tomorrow.”
He nodded. She was going to cry in her room, quietly. He wouldn’t hear her, but he would know anyway. He’d be crying too. “Good night, Sharon.”
She smiled. “Good night, Rusty. And for what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re home.”
He hugged her, tentatively. The hugging thing was still new to him. How messed up was it that he’d experienced most every sexual position imaginable, but a hug scared him? For the first time in his life, he felt like he could tell someone he loved her, and actually hear the words back. He was ready to feel them but not to say them.
He went to his room, got in his bed, and closed his eyes. They’d form a plan the next day. He could sleep easy knowing Sharon would keep him safe.
------------------------------------------------------
When he woke up, she was at the kitchen table. “Good morning, Rusty. Ready for breakfast?”
“The coffee’s still hot?”
She nodded. “I just made it.”
He went to the coffee pot and poured his cup. “Need any more, Sharon?”
“No thanks.”
He unplugged the coffee maker and fixed his coffee. Sharon started his breakfast. He sat down. “How can we get him out of our lives without arresting him?”
“I’ve been thinking about that. If he signs away his parental rights, you wouldn’t have to worry about him anymore.”
“You think he’ll do it?”
She nodded. “If things go our way, he won’t have a choice.”
“Okay. What do you need from me?”
Although she smiled, her eyes were sad. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take more pictures of you. We need evidence of how bad it was.”
“Fine. But can we get pictures of us doing something fun, sometime?”
“Yes, I’d love that. Anything you want. Let’s fix our little problem, and then we’ll celebrate.” She reduced the Donor to a “little problem.” And the way she said it, he believed her. It was something they could fix--together.
Sharon served his breakfast. She was the only person who knew how he liked his eggs, and she’d never forgotten. Her coffee wasn’t bad either. She sat down, watching him eat. “This won’t be easy.”
“But it’ll work?”
“Trust me.”
“I do, Sharon.”
------------------------------------------------------------
When Sharon drove him to school, Rusty was surprised she didn’t tell him how to respond to the inevitable questions. She had thought of everything else. Maybe she was more focused on the Donor, and what to do with him. Sharon was very focused: That must be what made her such a good cop--and mother.
She’d taken his pictures, and then he took a shower. The ointment she had put on his bruise really worked overnight, but it was still clearly visible.
It had taken every bit of his self-restraint to keep him from beating the shit out of the Donor. When he saw the fist come at him, he knew he didn’t want to make more trouble for Sharon. And he didn’t want to disappoint her. Of course, she surprised him when she joked about shooting him in the head. He’d gotten to know her sense of humor--and, yes, she did have one--over the months he’d lived with her. And that wasn’t really a joke. She was as angry about it as Rusty was, maybe even more so.
“Have a good day, Rusty. If you need anything, call me.”
“And if you’re busy?”
She smiled. “Call the department. Someone will be there.”
Rusty had gotten to know all the men--and Sykes. He liked all of them for different reasons. He liked Provenza the most, though. The old man was what Rusty imagined a grandfather would be like. Plus, he liked the old man’s snark. He pretended to be a big grump, but he always looked after Rusty--and Sharon.
“Okay, Sharon. I got this.”
“I know you do.”
He smiled and got out of the car. He already had a story for when the inevitable happened.
---------------------------------------------------------
The inevitable never happened. He’d gone all day, and no one even mentioned his black eye. He knew they saw it, though. Their stares were certainly long enough.
Maybe they assumed he’d been in a fight. He did have a reputation of a hellion since putting those boys in the infirmary.
He was relieved, though. He didn’t want any more trouble for Sharon.
---------------------------------------------
Buzz picked him up. Sharon must have been working a case. He didn’t mind riding with Buzz. The man was always nice to him. Even when he’d been a pain in the ass.
“How do you feel, Rusty?”
“Fine. I guess Sharon told everyone what happened.”
Buzz nodded.
“Are they going to go after him?”
Buzz shook his head. “Captain Raydor said that’s not what you want. We’ll honor that.”
“I bet Provenza things we should arrest him, right?”
“We all do.”
“Sharon thinks I can get him out of my life. That’s what we’re gonna do.”
Buzz nodded. And they rode to the station in silence.
---------------------------------------------
When he and Buzz arrived at the station, the room was abuzz with activity. Sharon gave him a quick wave. He returned it, and went into her office. He had a lot of homework to do, and Sharon’s office was a nice quiet place.
He was over the whole Shakespeare thing. Hamlet wasn’t bad, but Romeo and Juliet sucked. He hoped Chaucer would be better.
“What are you reading?” Sharon asked. Rusty didn’t hear her come in. Maybe he was more engrossed in the crappy play than he thought.
He held up the book so she could see.
“Any good?”
“Eh. It’s so unrealistic.”
“Sometimes love is unrealistic.”
“That’s deep, Sharon. You could be a philosopher.”
She rolled her eyes. “In my ample spare time.”
He shrugged. Rusty knew better than anyone how busy Sharon was. He’d taken to doing as many chores around the house as she needed. She never asked, and he never made a fuss over it. He just did it. Sharon’s grateful and surprised smiles were enough. They discovered he wasn’t a bad cook either. Her job made it hard to share a lot of meals, but it was always nice when they could eat together.
“Can you take a little break from reading?”
“Yeah. What’s up?”
“Mr. Dunn called. Twice.”
He nodded. “Yeah, he kinda stalked me all day.”
“Stalked?!”
“Whoa, Sharon. I just meant he called me several times. Should we answer, or call him back?”
She shook her head. “No. Let him come to us.”
“You mean here, at the station?”
“Of course. I think even he is smart enough to know not to come to our house.”
“You’d shoot him?”
“I’d certainly show him the business end of my gun.”
“You think he’ll come here?”
She nodded. “I can’t quite figure out his motives. But he seems very concerned about what Annie thinks. That’ll drive him here.”
“What will you do then?”
She smirked. “What I do best. Talk to him. Get him to dig his own grave. I warned him, people who tell me I don’t understand their situation usually end up under arrest--”
“You won’t arrest him, though, will you?”
“Only because that’s not what you want. But, Rusty, I’ll do what I have to to keep you safe. Plus, there’s those girls to think about.”
“They seemed nice. Too bad they have such an obnoxious mom and a possibly abusive future step-dad.”
“You can’t pick your family.”
“I did.”
Sharon brushed her eyes. Rusty knew that was her tell. She’d excuse herself and go in the bathroom. He was glad this time she’d be crying because he made her happy. He wished he could always make her happy.
“Alright. Why don’t you get back to the ‘starcrossed lovers.’ I’m gonna--”
“It’s okay, Sharon. Do what you have to.”
She smiled and scooted out of her office. Rusty shook his head and went back to reading about two teenagers in love. He really couldn’t see the appeal. He wished someone would write a book that spoke to him. Or something about characters he could respect--like Sharon or Flynn.
------------------------------------------------------
“Ready to go?”
Rusty nodded. “Can we get something to eat? My stomach’s eating my stomach.”
She smiled. “Of course. Can’t have that, can we?”
“Italian?”
She nodded. “Anything you want.” She paused. “Did you finish the play?”
“Yeah. They all died. Pretty stupid.”
“It is, isn’t it?”
“Love’s not like that.”
“It can be.”
“Was it like that for you?”
She shook her head. “Not with my husband, no. But with my kids...”
“You’d die for them?”
“I would.”
“I don’t think that’s the kind of love the ‘bard’ was talking about.”
“No, I guess not.”
“He’s wrong, though. That’s the best kind.”
She put her hand on his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get some food in that stomach of yours.”
Rusty knew two things. Sharon would probably die for him if she had to. And he’d do the same for her. It wasn’t what Shakespeare was writing about, but it was better. It was that unconditional love crap they kept talking about in religious studies at school. Rusty didn’t know Jesus--didn’t have a personal relationship with him like the other kids claimed to. He had something better.
----------------------------------------------
“When do you think he’ll come?”
They sat at their table in Jo-Jo’s. Over the past months, they’d eaten there so many times, they practically had a designated table. They knew all the waiters. Sharon always ate eggplant parm, and he always ate lasagna. They never had to order, though. The waiter would just say hi and bring them their drinks and bread basket. The food would simply appear. And it was always good.
She shrugged. “Depends on how much Annie nags him, I guess.”
He smirked. “Not long then.”
“Probably not.” She took a bite. “Will you be okay with that?”
“What do I have to do?”
“Nothing at first. Let me handle the initial meeting.”
He smiled. “Is that a good idea? You won’t shoot him?”
“I spent most of my career investigating use of force. I promise to behave.”
“What about your team?”
“They’ll behave too.”
“But if he--”
“They’ll stop behaving.”
“And you?”
She smiled. “I’ll stop too.”
He smiled. Tau and Flynn had told him all about the legendary beanbag incident. He wished he could have seen it. Sometimes he imagined Sharon shooting the Donor with one. It wouldn’t kill him, but it would hospitalize him. That would be enough for Rusty.
-------------------------------------------
Sharon was right. He’d come to her at the station a few days later--after leaving like a hundred messages on their phones.
She promised he’d only have to face him for a few moments, and then he’d have the problem taken care of for the rest of his life. That was a promise he believed.
She’d get what she wanted out of the Donor. That’s what she did for a living.
----------------------------------------------
“What do you need me to do?”
“I just need you to stand there. If you want to say anything, you can. I’ll be right beside you. Along with Flynn, Provenza, and the rest of the team. You have nothing to worry about.” She smiled. “There will also be the conference table between you.”
He nodded. “Can Sanchez stand behind him? I’d feel very safe, then.”
“Yes. That’s a good idea, Rusty.”
“And what will you say?”
“I’ll let him dig his own grave. Then I’ll burry him with the evidence and the thinly veiled threat.”
“About Annie and the girls?”
She nodded. “Hmm. Hmm.”
“You don’t think--”
“After we get what we want, I’ll file a report as a concerned citizen. I’ll do it anonymously. It’ll be up to them to investigate.”
He smiled. “You were always going to do that, weren’t you?”
She nodded. “A man like that shouldn’t be trusted with children.”
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
She patted his arm. “I’ll see you after school. Be good.”
He exited the car. He knew what ‘be good’ really meant. He’d take her ‘be goods’ over just about anyone else’s ‘I love yous.’
----------------------------------------------------------
“What does this mean, Sharon?”
“It means you can stay with me as a ward of the state.”
“For how long?”
“Until you’re eighteen.”
“And if my mom comes back?”
“She’d be charged with abandonment. That would mean jail time.”
“And I can still stay with you?”
“Yeah.”
“I like that.”
She smiled. “Me too.”
“And, Sharon, I love you too.”
She hugged him then. “I’m so glad for that, Rusty.”
“Let’s go home. Plan that fun thing.”
She wiped the tears that had fallen. “Okay. Let’s go.”