Andrea watched Sharon as she gushed about their upcoming Friday night trip to the Museum of Contemporary Art. "They're putting on an exhibit of Sally Mann's photographs. Sally Mann is one of my favourites," Sharon grinned from ear to ear, squeezing one of Andrea's hands between her own. Andrea could not stop the pleasurable tingling that spread across her hand, up her arm, and throughout the rest of her body. Lately, she got goosebumps anytime Sharon grasped her hand, or hugged her hello, or looked at her for just a little too long.

"Have you ever seen her work? I believe the exhibit will feature some of the photographs from her Body Farm series. Oh, they're so amazing. The composition is just so... so.. "

Andrea was torn between trying to listen to Sharon and trying not to concentrate on her hand now sandwiched between Sharon's own hands, resting on her inner thigh. She and Sharon had always been tactile with one another, but lately it had seemed like they touched every chance they could. "Umn, I'm sorry Sharon, did you say Body Farm series? Like, human bodies? Perhaps the word you're looking for is haunting? Or...morbid, perhaps?"

Sharon blinked at Andrea for a moment, then bent over, laughing. Andrea had to close her eyes as she felt the top of her hand pushed into Sharon's breasts while the older woman folded herself over her own legs. Why did she have to do things like that? After a moment, Sharon sat up and released Andrea's hand from it's captivity so she could wipe the tears of laughter from her eyes.

"I forget sometimes you aren't a cop, and thus aren't as naturally morbid as me. Yes, Sally Mann took a series of photographs at The Body Farm in Tennessee. It's an interesting place, and they're really quite beautiful and technical renderings of the human form. When they're juxtaposed with her photographs of living people, especially the ones of her children, in one exhibit, it can be quite the statement on human existence and the frailty of what we are. We go from such radiance and vitality to piles of waste and decay very quickly, really. It's really worth seeing."

Andrea chuckled. "Whatever you say. I picked the jazz festival last time, so it's only fair that I let you pick this...thing, this time."

"But I enjoy jazz," Sharon said, suddenly doubting their plans, "I want you to enjoy this too, I can pick something else-"

"No, Sharon, it's fine," Andrea reassured her. "I'm just teasing. I've been in many morgues myself," she said dryly. "It sounds really interesting. And besides, you're so excited to see it, I want to go just to see the look on your face. I love how your eyes are all lit up even now, just talking about it." Sharon blushed deeply and Andrea realized how unintentionally intimate her word choice had been. "I mean, you're like a kid in a toy store right now," she joked clumsily.

Sharon plucked at the throw pillow next to her, focusing her eyes on the rich colours of the floral fabric, rather than the piercing blue of Andrea's eyes. "There's a great little bistro nearby as well. Even if you totally hate the exhibit, I promise that you'll enjoy dinner after."

"Sounds good," Andrea chuckled. A quick look at her watch told her that it was time to call it a night. "I really should be going Sharon," Andrea sighed as she sipped the last drops of her cappuccino. "Thank you for dinner, it was delicious." It was well past midnight at this point, and while the dinner and company had been fabulous as always, there was the small matter of both women needing to be at work tomorrow morning.

Sharon waved Andrea's comment aside. "It was nothing. I had been dying to try that recipe for weeks now, so thank you for being my guinea pig," she joked.

It was late, and the logical part of her brain told her that it was time for Andrea to go home, but part of her couldn't help but feel disappointed every time her friend left. Sharon found herself wishing this evening, like she had so many other times, that she could somehow persuade Andrea to stay here with her. What she would give to be able to stay up all night talking to Andrea; what she would give to fall asleep to the sound of Andrea's soothing voice. They were friends, Sharon kept telling herself over and over again, good friends, great friends; it was natural for Sharon to love being in Andrea's company.

It had been like this for longer than Sharon cared to admit. Friendly dinners and nights in that somehow always ended up feeling a little more than friendly. Lingering looks between them that she couldn't quite interpret. And god help her if Andrea wore a skirt to work, or discarded her blazer while they were working in her office on a case. The sight of Andrea's bare skin caused a heavy, heated knot to assert itself low in Sharon's belly. She always thought it had been one sided, but watching Andrea curl up so close to her, bare foot, snug jeans, dangerously exposed chest, had caused her mind to...wander into the frightening realm of what if?

Tonight, Andrea had sat close to Sharon like she normally did, but she had touched her just a little bit more when she was talking, had laughed just a little bit harder when they joked. Sharon had been utterly hypnotized by the blonde this evening. Andrea had worn a pair of snug jeans and a casual button down top; Sharon couldn't stop staring at her even if she wanted to. There was something about the way those jeans had been clinging to her hips, the unbuttoned portion of her shirt, the added allure of her bare feet, that had been driving Sharon slowly and steadily mad all evening.

"I'll be your guinea pig any time, as long as you're making food like that," Andrea laughed as she patted Sharon's thigh. "Next time you make chicken and quinoa, make sure you have some leftover for me?" she teased. Goodbyes were always slightly awkward for Andrea. It was always her least favourite part of the evening, but a part of her always felt relieved once she left Sharon's condo. There was always...something that lingered between them that made Andrea so self-conscious and light-headed.

Sharon ran her hand over Andrea's; the same hand that was still resting on her inner thigh, and she smiled at the younger blonde woman. "How about I just make you my guest again next time I make it?" Sharon squeezed her hand lightly before they both stood up to make their way through her living room and dining room to the front door. Sharon handed Andrea her purse and as she accepted it, Sharon's fingers brushed against hers. A shiver ran up and down Andrea's spine spine.

"Thanks again for coming." Sharon beamed at Andrea as she pulled the front door open to let her guest out. The two women moved together and Andrea caught Sharon's waist with one hand, pulling her into an embrace close enough that she could kiss her cheek. The feeling of Andrea's hand on her hip sent shockwaves through Sharon's body. She locked her knees to stay upright as she returned Andrea's friendly kiss. It was only friendly, she had to keep reminding herself of that. Why did she have to keep reminding herself of that?

"I wouldn't miss our weekly dinner," Andrea chided jokingly, squeezing the delicate skin on Sharon's hip, sending another delightful, torturous shiver through her body.

Sharon knew, deep down, that a friend shouldn't make her feel this way; that a friend shouldn't do those sort of things to her. She knew she should back away from Andrea, that she should move out of her embrace, but something wouldn't let her. Every week it was the same thing; like something kept her cemented to the spot, held her there in Andrea's more than friendly, friendly embrace. Something in her needed to be close to Andrea, she just couldn't put her finger on what it was.

"I'll see you at work," Andrea said as she let herself out of Sharon's condo. Sharon couldn't help but stand at her open door and watch Andrea until she was safely in the elevator. Only then did Sharon finally close her door, only then did she let out a ragged breath.

"Sharon Raydor, you need to get laid," she muttered to herself, laughing and shaking her head.

They were friends. We're friends, Sharon chanted as she pulled back the covers of her bed and slid into the middle of it, adjusting herself so that she was bundled up under the covers. She's a wonderful friend. A kind friend. My best friend. My beautiful friend. My beautiful friend with soft lips. My beautiful friend who kissed me. Sharon drifted into a fitful sleep, thoughts and dreams of Andrea at the forefront of her mind.