Unconditionally - Chapter 12

by Kadi

Rated M

"We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.

Only through our love and friendship can we

create the illusion for the moment that we're not alone."

— Orson Welles

Nicole had followed through on her promise to help her father, and a suitably elegant, yet conservative ring was picked out and purchased. Andy had to admit, he would never have picked the simple platinum band and its single, radiant cut solitaire. It suited Sharon far better than anything he could have visualized, and he was not surprised to learn later that Isabelle had helped her to pick it out.

Only after a few days, the girls were fast friends, and thick as thieves. Andy was terrified to think what they might be plotting.

On Tuesday, he was released from the hospital. Sharon had been by to see him Monday, as she promised, while following up with her neurologist. The concussion was healing nicely, and she would have to follow up again the next week, but was in otherwise good health. When Andy was released, he called Nicole. His daughter helped him pack his things at the hospital, and then drove him to Sharon's condo. He did not warn her that he was coming.

Isabelle opened the door for them. Although delighted to see Andy, she held a finger to her lips as he stepped into the apartment. "Napping. She finally broke down and took something for the leg, she overdid it a little yesterday." Her mother had wanted to run some much needed errands after leaving the hospital.

Nicole carried her father's bag into the apartment and set it on a chair. "I won't stay then. Dad, you should get some rest too. I'll see you in a couple of days." She leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Call me if you need anything."

"I will, angel." He gave her a one-armed hug. "I'm sure Isabelle will let you know how she likes it."

"You betcha." Isabelle smiled. "I'll call you," she told the other girl.

"You better. I want details." She waved before stepping out of the apartment again.

Isabelle watched her go and turned to Andy. "Can I get you anything?"

"Nah." He was already headed to the hall. "I'm good."

"Sure?" She smiled wickedly. "Tea? Something to eat?"

"Isabelle," He cast a long look at her. "You'll want to knock first."

"Oh, really!" She turned away quickly, with all the disgust of a child reminded that parents were human with human needs, too. "You are a bad, bad man." Isabelle flopped down in front of the television.

"Yes. I know." He smirked and made his way, slowly, down the hall. His body was still sore in a lot of places, most noticeably the incision site where the internal bleeding had been corrected. When he reached the master bedroom, he eased the door open. Sharon was laying on her back, her injured leg propped on a pillow. One arm was draped across her stomach, while the other was curled toward her face, which was turned to the side. Andy walked quietly into the room and rounded the bed to what had become his side. He toed out of his shoes and then sank carefully onto the mattress. He didn't want to wake her, but his body was still very stiff.

Once he had himself arranged, he pulled one of the extra pillows and hugged it to his middle for support as he rolled onto his side. He rested his head in his hand and watched her for a moment. She was peaceful, relaxed. In sleep, the years always fell away. He reached out and trailed a finger along the curve of her cheek, then followed it's path with his lips. Andy kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, and finally her closed lids.

Her eyes fluttered before opening. A sleepy smile curved her lips. "Hi."

"Hi." His hand slid down her arm, to her stomach, where their fingers laced together. "Feel like some company?"

"Hmm." She hummed in response. Her eyes, heavy from the medication, were closing again. "Always." Sharon forced them open and blinked at him. "You're home?"

It was just a slip of the tongue, but it made Andy smile. He leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to her upturned mouth. "I'm home," he murmured.

"Good." She tugged him closer and let her eyes close again.

Andy kissed her shoulder before settling beside her. He sighed, happily, when his body relaxed against the mattress. After almost an entire week in the hospital, his body was exhausted, and ached as much from sleeping on the thin hospital mattress as it did from the accident. Although he hadn't felt sleepy when he laid down, he found himself drifting in a light slumber just moments after closing his eyes. He was asleep before he even realized it.

It was with some surprise that Sharon awoke, a while later, laying next to her sweats and t-shirt clad lover. Once the surprise wore off, she had a vague memory of his having arrived. She shifted onto her side next to him and wriggled closer. The movement caused his arm to fall alway from her, and that had him waking. She hummed, a full wave of contentment washing over her at the sight of those dark eyes, and the emotions she saw shift through them when he remembered where he was. It was bafflement, and then the clarity. Their brown depths immediately registered warmth, and it lit the gold flecks in his dark irises like small embers, burning brightly. There was joy, and it was joined quickly by another emotion, much deeper. Andy's expressive gaze was the reason she never had to question his feeling for her, it was always there, even back in the days when he tried to hide it, Sharon had known. The words were nice, it always sent a thrill through her, but nothing could compare to the way she just knew, every time he looked at her, that she was loved. His lips curved toward a smile, and she couldn't resist leaning forward and touching them with her own.

"Missed you," she whispered. It wasn't only the separation of miles between the condo and the hospital, or between his room and hers prior to being released. It was the separation of them, and the quiet comfort of just being together.

"Hm." It was a deep, rumbling sound of contentment that filled the quiet room. His hand lifted to sweep the hair away from her face. His thumb caressed the curve of her cheek, then as his fingers moved deeply into her hair, it traced the line of her neck. "Ditto," he said, in a voice that was still thick with sleep. This had been missing during the long week of their combined recuperations. It was the simple pleasure of having the woman he loved where he could hold her, without interruptions, or prying eyes, and without the need to worry about the thoughts and feelings of others. Just the two of them, with nothing else in the world that mattered.

These walls were a haven. Outside, there was the children, the team, the job and any number of other responsibilities and interruptions. Once they left the sanctuary of the bedroom, they were less free to just be Andy and Sharon, two people who, in light of extraordinary odds had found something precious, something which gave them both peace and joy, and strength. Outside, she was mom, she was The Captain, she was Darth Raydor and God help those who stood in her way.

He could herald Sharon for the way his relationship with his daughter had grown and improved, but she had done little more than stand at his back and make him believe he was capable of doing it on his own. He had. But her contribution was far more encompassing than she could know. She couldn't bridge the gap between her own children and their father, but she had provided the assistance for his, with Nicole at least. If Andy had to pick out one moment, the single point in time when he had fallen in love with her, it was his daughter's wedding. He was dancing with his girl, in complete awe of the woman she had become, and he had glanced over to spot Sharon. She was watching them, warmth in her gaze, eyes suspiciously bright. That was it. That was his moment. Her happiness at his happiness, that had done it. He was completely lost from then on out.

Andy was lost every time he looked at her. She took his breath away. Even laying here, sleep mussed, and no makeup to speak of, he was completely undone by her. His fingers traced the outline of her ear, combed through her hair. He leaned forward, ignoring the pull of his injured middle, and trailed his lips along her jaw to her mouth. It was a long, slow kiss. He traced her bottom lip with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth. He was committing the taste of her back to memory, but it only ignited the memory of a fire, embers that both their bodies were simply too tired and injured to stoke higher.

Her fingers in his hair drew a rumbling sound from deep within him. She hummed quietly in response and pushed her lips across his cheek. The pillow was still between them, but she pressed close enough to nuzzle against his neck. It drew a sigh from him, and his hand slipped down her side, to her hip. They lay again, facing each other, faces just scant inches apart. Their eyes conveyed what their bodies could not.

All too soon the moment ended. Sharon rolled away from him, out of the bed. His eyes trailed her careful, stiff movements toward the attached bathroom. When she returned a moment later, he had managed to shift onto his back. He was contemplating the effort it would take to get out of the bed when he felt her hand against his arm. Andy looked into her concerned gaze and smiled. He took her hand and let her steady him while he wrapped his other arm tightly around his middle and let the pillow support him as he rose to sit on the side of the bed. The low groan was all pain, and he sighed a bit despondently at the way his body ached.

"A shower will help," she promised. Her hands stroked his hair, his shoulders, and what she could reach of his upper back. When Andy's arms looped lazily around her hips, and his face pressed against her stomach, she smiled down at him. She held him there, cradled against her, for a few moments. When he reached for her hands, she limped a step back and held them while he pushed to his feet. The paleness of his face worried her, but he simply dropped a kiss onto her lips.

"Join me?" Their was mischief in his gaze. "I may need help. I'm old, feeble even."

"What you are is trouble." Sharon limped toward the dresser, where she retrieved spare things he kept at her apartment. "But I will admit that you do need help," she teased.

"Hey, I've only just returned from a very trying ordeal. Nurse Derek wasn't so gentle with the sponge baths." He watched her make her way toward the bathroom with his fresh pajamas. When she moved her robe from the door to the hook hanging near the shower, he grinned widely.

"Yes, poor Andy." She clucked her tongue at him. "We'll see if I can do any better." She stepped out of the bathroom for a moment, allowing him privacy. When the door opened again, Sharon joined him.

It took the two of them several minutes, some groaning and some laughing to get their injured bodies undressed. It was possible, at the very least, to laugh about it. Once they were in the shower, Andy braced his hands against the tiled wall and sighed, while the steaming spray flowed over his back. She was right, the muscles were already loosening.

They were both a mottled patchwork of bruises and healing cuts. Sharon still had a line diagonally across her chest, from the seatbelt, although it was fading to yellow now. Her legs were bruised, where they had been pinned beneath the dash, and of course there was the jagged gash in her right thigh that had been surgically repaired and stitched together. Andy turned away from the wall to curl an arm around her. His hand slipped down her side, to skirt the edge of that awful wound. He dropped his face to her shoulder, lips gentle.

Taking stock, it was something they both did. Her hands started at his shoulders. There were bruises along his arms, and covering his ribs. It was just lucky that nothing there had been broken. Then there was the line marring the left side of his torso, just below his chest, where thankfully the damage had not been irreparable. Sharon's thumb traced the edge of the healing incision. Her other hand she lifted to cup the back of his head where it rested against her. Her own arm moved around him, and they stood beneath the cascading spray, still and silent. There were tears leaking from beneath her lids, and it was not until she sniffled quietly that his head rose.

She was so very much like Rusty, in that she did not cry in front of people, and he could count only one other time she had allowed him to see her tears streaming her face. She held her grief in silence, always needing to be strong for others. They had come a long way in these few months together. When his hands cupped her face, thumbs sweeping away the moisture, she shook her head. She just had to feel it, and it was mostly relief that had her trembling in front of him. When his arms wrapped around her, she burrowed in to the all encompassing embrace, and tucked her face against his neck.

Life was so fleeting. They saw that every day. It could end in the blink of an eye, when least expected. They had come only too close. "Hounds of hell couldn't keep me away," he rumbled against her hair.

It was so ridiculous, especially when they were more familiar with the stark realities of life than anyone. Yet there it was, and it made her smile. She lifted her head and kissed him, so desperately that he pressed her back against the tiled wall and they had to lean there while they caught their breath. But it was Andy holding her, Andy's hands sliding up and down her sides. Andy's lips moving from her mouth to her neck. Ridiculous, silly, and worrisome Andy. The man who could move from mildly irritated to bouts of temper in a matter of moments, he who hatched insane plots for the sake of his partner's pride, and was known to cut corners or skirt the rules. Andy, who was funny and loving, and could drive her to the brink of madness until she didn't know if she wanted to shoot him or kiss him. The man who could be so vulnerable, but give her such strength. The thought of losing him filled her with such despair she almost couldn't breathe, yet, the hounds of hell could not keep him away. It was so utterly unrealistic, but she was going to hold him to that anyway.

Afterward, while Sharon sat at her dressing table, Andy watched from the edge of the bed. She was smoothing her hair into soft waves with her brush and blow dryer. He had made his way out to retrieve his bag, moving only slightly easier now that the shower had melted away the stiffness in his joints and muscles. She was wearing a pair of running pants and a tank top, but it might as well have been one of her dresses for all that she still looked amazing. Or perhaps he was biased. He didn't care.

Andy was silent and patient until the dryer turned off, and she combed her fingers through her hair, fluffing it. It was the tell-tale sign that she was finished. His eyes tracked her movements when she carried the blow dryer back to the bathroom. When she returned, he looped a hand around her wrist and drew her toward him. He pulled her to stand between his legs and lay his hands against her hips. Her back arched, just so, and his lips brushed the flat expanse of stomach before he tipped his head back and gazed up at her. After a moment, he took her wrists, and slipped his hands down to curl around hers. Andy studied her hands for a moment, so small. Delicate. From the tip of his pinky, he took the ring he placed there while waiting for her to finish dressing. The diamond glittered in the lights over head as he slid it onto her finger. At her indrawn breath, he looked up again. "Our daughters were indeed plotting," he said quietly. "Do we want to disappoint them?"

The corners of her mouth twitched. Her eyes sparkled. While he continued to hold her left, she lay her other hand against his shoulder. "No," she whispered, "we don't want that."

"Marry me."

This time it wasn't the morphine which curved her lips toward a smile. She cupped his cheek and bent, kissing him softly. A gentle caress of her lips, with a sweet, and softly spoken, "Yes."

His hand cupped the back of her neck, drawing her into a more significant kiss. He would have liked to say more, but the knock on the door sounded at the same time it opened.

"Sharon, we're ordering dinner. We were thinking Ital—oh, come on!" Rusty slapped a hand over his eyes and groaned, loudly. "Isabelle!" He turned, shouting in response to the laughter they could hear echoing in the other room.

"Oops," she sing-songed. "Forgot!"

"Really!" Rusty abandoned his mission for food and went after his foster sister. "You couldn't mention a simple, hey Andy's home, guard your eyes. I'm impressionable here, I can still be scarred. What kind of sister are you?"

Sharon sighed. The door was open. She lifted her head and gazed at Andy. The sanctuary had been breached, for the time being at least. It was time to return to the world. She shook her hair back and straightened, already Mom was making her appearance. "Guys, keep it down," she called after them. "There's no reason to disturb the entire floor."

Andy shook his head as she retreated, but there was a grin playing at his lips. When she held her hand out, he took it, and let her draw him up. He curled an arm around her as they walked toward the commotion in the living room.

Outside she was Mom, the Captain, and Darth Raydor. He watched her move away to settle her children, remind them they were meant to be adults. Andy grinned, contentment settled through him. She was his.

~FIN