The hand on her mouth startled her awake. What was going on? Rusty was looking down at her with his hand covering her mouth and another on his lips to indicate silence.

"There's someone in the house."

Sharon instinctively reached for her gun, looked around her room, then crept out making as little sound as possible. She had considered getting backup for a few seconds, then abruptly changed her mind when she heard humming. She had never heard a criminal hum before, nor one sound so loud in the kitchen. Something seemed familiar to her but she couldn't quite place it, and she had to keep Rusty from overreacting and perhaps getting himself hurt. There was no telling what would happen if he rushed passed her. It could be the person threatening him, giving her the clear message that he was at home in their lives, and that could have a horrible outcome. It could be someone after her specifically for the work she did. Police officers had many skills and long memories. Even though she was no longer head of FID, that didn't stop all the threats she received. If Rusty only know, he would be after her for her double standard in no time.

Why hadn't the alarm worked?

The rustling got louder as Sharon make her way silently towards the kitchen, mindful of the places on the floor that squeaked. From a mother's perspective, she loved the floor joists not always matching and giving her knowledge of her children's movements. From a police officers' perspective, however, silence was a huge point in her favour.

She knew Rusty was right behind her, but she waved him back. Now was not the time for him to protect her, and she hoped he remembered that she was the Police with firearms and martial arts training. She didn't need him rushing ahead of her and making the situation worse. Rusty's protectiveness of her was endearing, but needless.

Luckily Rusty fell back, and Sharon made her way close to the kitchen. It was one less thing for her to worry about at the moment.

The fridge door was open, so Sharon moved in quickly and kicked it shut, startling the intruder.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, when she saw who it was.

"Jesus, Shar, I'm only making a sandwich." Jackson exclaimed as he leaned down to pick up the bottle he had dropped when she scared him.

"A sandwich?" Sharon was angry. "You're in my home, Jackson. What do you think you are doing, waking me in the middle of the night. A call would have been appreciated."

"Who is that?" Rusty asked, coming up behind her and holding the desk lamp from his room. He moved in front of Sharon ever so slightly, trying to give her as much protection as possible. Sharon couldn't help but be proud of him.

"I'm Sharon's husband," Jackson said, with a casual grin on his face. Rusty looked horrified and Sharon looked even more bothered than she had a moment ago. "But more to the point, who are you?"

"Rusty," he answered without further explanation, then turned to Sharon "is that really the guy with the suit?"

"Yes, that's him," Sharon replied sharply, never taking her eyes off Jackson.

"I gotta tell you, Shar, I was expecting a warmer welcome than this."

"Warm welcome, Jackson," She was so angry, the vibrations in her movements flipped her hair a little. "This isn't your home."

"That's not what the papers say, and you know it."

Damn, he was infuriating. The world of Jackson Raydor bore little resemblance to reality, and it drove her crazy. "When you actually start paying for this place, then we can talk about shared ownership. Until then, you are trespassing in MY home, and disturbing everyone here."

"Awe, Shar, you're just upset because you didn't finish your beauty rest."

Rusty looked over at Sharon. He didn't think her mouth could be any tighter.

"What are you doing here, Jackson, and I want an answer this time."

"I'm home," Jackson smiled, his eyes even twinkling. "I have a job here for a little while, and since I'm going to be in town, it makes sense that I'm at my own place."

"MY place, you mean. I don't recall inviting you nor getting a phone call from you stating your intent. Common courtesy, Jackson. Ever hear of it?"

"Wow, you really are getting worse as you age. You should go back to bed, Shar. Don't worry about me. I'll just tidy up here a little and then get into my hovel."

Sharon ran her hand through her hair, walking in a brief circle in an attempt to calm down. Jackson was the same as always, thick as a bloody brick and oblivious to the way his actions affected others.

"I can't do this right now. The sofa is over there, Jackson. Tomorrow you find a hotel room, but for tonight, just be quiet and let us all get back to sleep."

"Sofa?" Jackson looked offended, "this is my house? Even if you don't want to accept it, I at least warrant a bed."

"There are no spare beds in this home anymore. Rusty has his room and I have mine. If you are going to stay here, it's the sofa or floor, but it's out here where you can't bother anyone." Then Sharon turned to Rusty, "You go back to bed, Honey. Let me deal with this. I'm sorry he woke you."

"Are you okay, Sharon?" Rusty asked without really taking his eyes off of Jackson. "I don't mind staying up with you. I don't think I'm going to sleep much anyway."

Sharon smiled for the first time, and ruffled his hair slightly. "It's okay, Rusty. Honestly. I'm about to return to bed myself. I'm just going to check the locks, and make sure the alarm is set properly this time. It's going to be morning soon enough. Go..."

Rusty looked unsure, but seeing the determined look in Sharon's eyes along with her smile of assurance, he lowered his lamp and returned with it to his bedroom.

"Who's the kid?" Jackson asked around a mouthful of sandwich.

"I'm not dealing with you. The linens are in the TV stand. Clean up, turn out the lights, and for God's sake, plan to be somewhere else tomorrow."

"In God's eyes, this is exactly where I'm supposed to be," Jackson called after her as she walked back towards her bedroom, waving him off in the process.

As Sharon settled back into bed and got comfortable, Jackson could be heard moving around the living room.

Silence finally fell on all the occupants, and Sharon could feel herself drifting to sleep once more. But just before she stepped into oblivion, the door of her bedroom was pushed open.

"Shar?" a shadow called as it moved forward.

"Jackson," Sharon hissed, "get out!"

"I can't sleep on that sofa, Shar. My back is bad, you know that. Since I can't have my usual room, I'm just going to have to share your bed."

"Like hell you are," Sharon propped herself up.

"Listen, Buddy," Andy's voice could be heard as he turned on the light beside him, "we're tired and we want to sleep. Get your uninvited ass back out to the sofa, and be grateful it was Sharon who dealt with you tonight, and not me."