Half-truths, Whole Lies
Pt 2/2

On a Sunday evening, when the temperatures had started to taper off towards chilly and after stuffing stomachs with good family barbeque and oversweet delicacies in a small cafe by the sea, Andy ushered Sharon towards the long boardwalks. They had a great day together, but both of them still wanted to spend some more time together, alone, just to chat without interruptions.

Tonight, Andy was determined to get his thoughts about their relationship out in the open. Even if he wasn't much of a tactician, he had made up some scenarios how to approach the issue and how she would respond. Usually his scenarios ended with him being yelled at, slapped or cut out of her friendly affections. Why, he wasn't sure, since there was this underlying current of her being more than distantly friendly, open to his occasional transgression of friends—

The side of her hand grazed his, by accident, he presumed and made no bigger note of it. On the next swing though her hand tentatively clasped his and he had to look at her in wonder. Her attention was directed elsewhere and her every cell screamed nonchalance. The strong desire to kiss her hair he conquered with a foolish grin.

"Can we go over there?" Sharon asked pointing over further down the beach. When she heard no reply, she turned around to repeat the question, however his grin made her squint and ask something else instead. "What are you grinning about?"

"Absolutely nothing. Yeah," he added to derail her from asking for details, "let's go."

It worked as well as his usual misdirections had. Thus, he wondered, how could she be so blind to his actions.

"Tell me," she questioned, "what are you grinning about? Did I miss something funny?" Scanning the surroundings she concluded, "I can't see anything now."

"No, you wouldn't," he replied with a chuckle and leant over to confess, "I love your enthusiasm over small things."

"Oh. Well. Good?"

"Very good," he agreed with fine traces of his earlier grin. It really was something he had come to appreciate.

Sharon followed in his step, but concentrated more on his manner than her feet and where they were going. He was entirely too nonchalant, too interested in the view.

He was so hiding something.

Her eyes narrowed.

"You are laughing at me."

"Am not."

"You are. But you're too gentlemanly to say it."

"Now that's a thing I've never been accused of."

In reply, she only scoffed and swatted his arm. Let him be with his smug smirk.

He had been gentlemanly towards her through all of their fake relationship, Sharon thought. Or, their actual relationship that had blossomed under the stamp of fake, she amended the thought. At some point things had started to get complicated; what she thought as fake was really not while it was supposed to be and it really wasn't totally true either and... The whole thing gave her headache.

It didn't change the fact that he was gentlemanly towards her. Just like now, just like that first night at the ballet, he kept herding her, guiding her, pulling her closer in crowds. Always, he picked her up, promptly and without excuses. At some point she had come to rely on a compliment he had always shed so easily. Well, always, except when he had been truly mad at her and even then she had missed it, profoundly.

Whatever this all had been, Andy made her smile. In many ways. Words, quirks, actions.

After discreetly twisting his wrist to check the time, Andy glanced at her. She had fallen deep in thought. Good thoughts, he hoped. That small sweet smile he had caught on her lips more often as the days went by but he couldn't really place it. A time or two she had let it slip in at work, but otherwise it really came out only when they were alone. The little looking away she did in connection with that smile he found especially endearing. On some days he wanted to bring that out by underhanded compliments.

Sharon hated compliments, he suspected. She had even come out and said it; that friends didn't need any between them. In fact, he had come to believe that every time he did or said something she didn't like, she played the friendship card. On one particular evening, he had amused himself of thinking what kind of friendship you would have if you indeed followed all her 'friends don't' opinions. Quickly he found out that even he and Provenza were failing on that list. Maybe she liked clear boxes for things and their so-called friendship was a little hard to fit inside any.

"What time is it?" she broke his thoughts casually. "You keep checking your watch."

"Well, honestly," he admitted sheepishly, "I'm parked on red."

Her face blanched and her expression, once unfrozen, started a remarkable cavalcade of responses from shock to dismay, from surprise to outrage.

"What! You can't keep doing things like that, Andy! Just because someone was stupid enough to let you have a badge... It's irrespons—"

He had the audacity to laugh, but also the forethought to placate her rant with upturned palms.

"I'm not. Don't you remember where we parked?" Sharon didn't, not as such. She had been too busy chattering on about something or other his family had said or done. "You took too long gushing over your sugar rush," he continued with dry humor without waiting for her recollection to return. "Longer than expected. Meter, running out."

"Oh. Should we go?"

Andy was glad to hear the disappointment and the reluctancy in her tone. One look in her eyes confirmed the sentiments. He was very glad, since he wasn't ready to part ways for the day and they still hadn't really talked.

"I'll go and fill the meter," he offered easily. "Wait there?" Andy took one hand to point over to a bench closer to the beach. His other hand slid around her waist and with a smile he turned to reassure, "Be back soon."

The featherlight peck on her cheek totally missed the mark. Whether it was her turning her head to nod her assent or him focusing his attention somewhere else than at his intended target, the result was still the same: instead of connecting with the softness of her cheek, he felt the silken skin at the corner of her lips under his. Somehow he retained the presence of mind to keep the plan of light connection and swiftly moving to back off on the top of his list.

However, as soon as he tried executing that plan, she shredded the list into pieces by insistently stepping that remaining half a step into oblivion, angling both her lips and her body fuller against his. Later, when he would think about this — and he would, there was no question about it — he would imagine her raising on her toes, her demi-pointe work already forever engraved in his mind since their first Nutcracker together.

She turned demanding, even aggressive. The little cross between a hum and a whimper made him happy to oblige. She was ready and eager, brushing a thigh against his while grappling to lace their fingers. Her warm breath tasted of caramel just like the backs of her teeth and that realization brought light to his other senses. The hand still searching for his made him found the fingers of his left hand tangled with the fingers of his right, all ten of them pressing demandingly into her back.

Then she stopped and he panicked.

In a flash Andy had put the step back between them, taken his hands to himself and started apologizing.

"Sharon, I'm so sorry! Please forget I did that, I wasn't thinking."

She could only stare at him with glazed eyes, feebly fighting the urge to hide her lips behind her fingers.

He kissed me! her mind chanted until it was replaced with flashes of their relationship. A hand around her waist, one on his chest. A peck on the cheek, a warm hug. Her legs on his lap, his hand in hers, his cufflinks in her purse, her purse on his arm.

It was not only the touches needing a replay. There had been words between them. 'Trust me', 'I'll be here when you need me'. She had, he was.

'Jack seems to think you're dating someone' was another line she had heard not too long ago. 'My brother thinks you're in love', Nicole had said even more recently. Though, she had said a lot more, too. 'What's the difference between dating and what you're doing with Flynn?' Rusty had asked and she had no firm definitions to give. All the little gems with which their children had graced them.

Both of the lists were seemingly endless in hindsight.

Her thoughts were halted by a gentle hand around her wrist.

"I didn't mean it to happen like this," he said, but she couldn't look up from his hand to accurately determine the manner in which it was meant.

Quietly Sharon shook his hand off, but not really being sure of the appropriate next step, blurted, "Excuse me."

Andy watched her retreating back, piecing together what exactly had happened just now. This was either infinitely good or really, really, bad. Which one it was going to be, he would find out after she had gotten her thoughts in order. Truthfully, he could do with some thought arranging himself and he he could do it while walking back to the car. A parking ticket wouldn't help anything anyway.

Sharon's mind was practically blank after the flash of images she had first gone through almost reflexly while she walked towards the bench they had agreed upon as a meeting point. They — Andy and her. Introducing the man's name into your thoughts was the least you should do after a kiss out of the blue. A kiss like that. That happened just like that.

Though, he had told her that he hadn't meant it to happen 'like this'. That implied there had been alternatives. So he had meant for it to happen in some way. Not that she really minded the idea, she could admit.

It was not the kiss as much as what it signified. She had to be honest with herself. Despite her... insistence during the moment, that kiss had not been a display of need. She couldn't, with good conscience, call it lust either. The kiss was born of friendship that was more than.

She had misjudged the whole thing at some point.

But when? At the very start? When she agreed to be in on the lie? When she had the first inkling he was confusing things? When she had the first inkling she was confusing things? When, in the most recent weeks, their interactions had turned tense and even hostile?

The situation should have been so much clearer if only they didn't lie as casually as they breathed.

Soon she found herself knee deep in existential questions. Such as 'was there ever a good reason to enable someone's lies?'. Who defined which lie was righteous, which lie was unjust? Where was the line?

The grey areas of life were larger, easier to fall into by the year. It was starting to look like life was one big grey area despite all the pretty words and golden ideals. Every breath, every action was always a matter of degrees.

The degrees made her think of the inches remaining between them at work, the inches left between them at the dinner table, the inches there should have been between them when they danced. How widely they smiled at each other. How easily they compromised.

What was the difference between a date and what they had been doing?

How did seeing plays and going to concerts alone, together, contribute to their facade of being an united front before his family? Somewhere along the road their intentions had been muddled. There must have been a moment where coming clean would have been appropriate. They had been too busy being together to notice it.

What was the difference with what they had and a 'real' relationship?

Sure the moment, weeks and weeks ago, when she had realized she had been flirting with him, she had gotten anxious — she hadn't meant to do that. Yet it hadn't changed anything to make their outings feel like dating. But was that why she started feeling nervous getting ready to go out with him? At first she had grabbed the first thing in the closet, today she had tried on at least four outfits before settling for this. This, the jeans, the form-fitting knit top and the sporty jacket with the boots screamed 'I'm not trying but look how good I look' so loud you couldn't miss it.

A deep breath of the cooling air made her swallow a good amount of reality by accident. Yes, she had ran away from him just now. The friends thing after an accidental kiss would have been to laugh it off and move on. But there were no guarantees either of them could do it. Not even that they wanted to try.

Her thoughts kept running in circles. There were more questions than answers and each one of them created another. Endless and endless. Their lives were intertwined in so many ways, and life in any case was a ball of yarn in a big knot.

Even if she hadn't recognized the steps closing in behind her bench, she would have known the faint scent of him. How many friends were so attuned to the smell of the other person? Granted, some colleagues even she herself would know by smell alone, like Provenza with his ever-living love of Old Spice, but this here was more than that. Andy wasn't even wearing the aftershave he usually did at work.

Sharon closed her eyes and rubbed her hands on her arms. The chill she felt was less to do with the warm evening air, the gentle breeze, and more to do with the cold reality with which she needed to come to terms. If this was pure friendship, they were uncommonly attuned to each other.

Andy stopped behind her, giving her the time she needed. He tentatively touched Sharon'd elbow to let her know he was there and waiting, and, following a rustling of fabric, placed his jacket on her shoulders. There you had it, another clue. If more were needed.

She swallowed, but left her eyes closed. With a slightly foreign voice she tried to force out a laugh.

"We seem to have a hard time not believing our own lies."

He didn't comment on her failed attempt at humor, rather let it fade. Instead, he crossed his hands and leaned over the backrest.

"I screwed up, didn't I," he said with a voice as foreign as hers.

"No, you didn't. I did."

"Look, Sh—"

"We should have talked about this."

"Yeah." Never mind it was exactly what he had been trying to do. He thought of the result not talking got him. The smile he couldn't hide. "Though I'm pretty good for right now."

Sharon's eyes shot open.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Assuming you're wanting to do that again on a regular basis." Despite herself, she chuckled and Andy wanted to smile some more. Good. This was going to be good. On a chance, he added, "That might have been the most honest thing we've done in months."

She scoffed and it gave him courage to round the bench and sit beside her. Closer than he would at work, but not close enough to touch. There was no reaction from her, her eyes glued to the water.

"Do you want to talk about this? Now?" he ventured to ask.

What exactly was there to say right now? Sharon wanted to ask. Oh yes, if asked whether she wanted to talk, she couldn't really answer in the negative. However, the words seemed elusive still, so she only mildly shook her head and kept her eyes front. Andy crossed his arms, determined to wait.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how tightly his arms were bunched and how his left leg bounced like he was either idly listening to a tune or antsy to move. Sharon loosened the hold she had of her arms, raising her hands to her shoulders and slipping his jacket off. Draping it over his shoulders, she glanced up at him and with a lopsided smirk admitted, "Possibly."

Andy answered with a similar smirk. "Definitely," he translated catching the hand she was pulling away from his shoulder. She rolled her eyes, but let him keep her hand. "You don't think we should stop lying?" he asked risking a bit of levity.

"Possibly," she repeated and directed her gaze back to the horizon.

He let her gaze out at the sea and when her fingers slipped away from his grip, he let them go. Noticing her intention to hug herself again, he slid the remaining inches closer and pulled her against his side, inside the lightly covering fabric of his jacket.

Sharon's eyes flitted over the front of Andy's shirt.

"I haven't been your fake girlfriend, have I."

His hands, loosely folding over the curve of waist, tugged her almost into his lap. He blew the flowery scented windblown tresses from his lips.

"No, not as such, no."

She snuggled closer, laid one hand on his shoulder, softly settling into his warmth.

"Okay."

The gulls screamed as the light faded.

.

.

A/N: Nope, couldn't do a better ending, sorry! :) Thanks again for the interest in this story, R&R&F&F. Hope you liked!
Quite a ride, it was fun to read this old thing! Kinda made me want to write more on this... Oh well, taking into account how I write now, it'd be just smut on top of smut, so maybe better I not. (Yes, that's 'In Between' in a nutshell.)