LB 4

A/N- I apologize for the time between chapters. I had been hoping to get them up much faster. I was out backpacking in the mountains, and then nothing was flowing together right. I'm out in the mountains again for a few days, but this time, I promise I'll write and you'll get new chapters when I'm back. Thanks to all the reviewers who are sticking with me! (:

"Oh, I don't wanna grow up, wish I'd never grown up. It could still be simple."

-Never Grow Up, Taylor Swift

Sharon woke in the middle of the night, with a urgent need to find a trashcan. The bathroom was past Jack's side of the bed, so she threw back the covers and clambered over him, barely pausing as he grunted and woke up. She clamped one hand over her mouth and sprinted out the door.

He joined her in the bathroom a minute later, sat on the floor, and held her hair back. He was very calm about it; he always had been, even with Ricky.

"Pity you get it in the night. It's got to be the most inconvenient thing, hmm?"

She spat into the trashcan, and sat back on her heels. "My sister was the same way."

"Yeah, I remember. We were at your parents' house for Christmas and she was in the room next door. Didn't sleep a wink that whole damn trip." He smiled and laughed softly. " That wasn't entirely her fault, though. It was partially you."

She giggled, coughed, and leaned back into the trashcan.

Jack readjusted his hold on her hair and leaned back against the wall. "I'm glad your parents' room was on the other side of the house. And your brother's room. His snoring masked everything. Do you remember that time we-" he stopped short, laughing. "I still can't say it out loud."

"Just as well," she replied. "I think I'm done."

"Okay. You go back to bed-"

"No, Jack, you have court tomorrow."

"A few minutes either way won't change anything, and that's all it'll take to clean up. Go on."

She nodded, stood, washed up, brushed her teeth again. She had just gotten into bed when he came back in.

"See? I'm all done; it was easy." He joined her and pulled her close.

"I smell awful," she mumbled into his shoulder.

He ran his hands down her back. "All I smell is mint." He gently massaged every bit of her he could reach and she hummed happily. He laughed again and traced his fingers along her legs. The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was having Jack's arms tight around her, thinking he was so much better when he was sober.

*~*~*~*

When Sharon woke up the next morning, Jack was already gone. She slipped out of bed and into the kitchen. A slip of paper was tacked to the fridge, with "Sharon" written in block letters at the top. She pulled it out from under the magnet.

SHARON- Left early to finish up a few last-minute things for court. It's just pre-lims today, so I should be done before your appointment. Think about where you want to go to dinner; let me know when we meet up and I'll get reservations. Have a good day. Love, Jack

She snorted and shoved the note into her bag. Jack was following his old, familiar pattern. It was a roller coaster of hills and valleys. He'd come home late and she'd catch him, or he wouldn't come home. After, he'd be on his best behavior, swear to be better, then start slipping away again, leaving early and returning late.

She turned the kettle on and walked back to the bathroom for a shower. She'd skip her run to stay with Ricky. She hung her pajamas over the hook on the back of the bathroom door, turned on the water. Without her morning workout, she took extra time washing her hair. When she finished, the room was filled with rosemary-minty steam. It billowed past into the bedroom when she opened the door. She collected her clean clothes uniform from the chair they were folded over and pulled them on, bemusedly realizing Jack was right, that soon she wouldn't need her belt for anything other than holding her gun, handcuffs, and other tools. She laughed quietly as she pulled her hair back, did her make-up, and left to wake Ricky.

She sat on the edge of his bed and watched him sleep. His blonde hair was strewn about like a halo and his face twitched into a smile. She reached out and shook his shoulder gently. "Ricky, honey, it's time to get up."

He rolled over and blinked up at her. "I had a dream," he said sleepily.

"Yeah?" She got up and started pulling clothes out for him like she did most mornings.

"There was a big dog," he said as he rolled out of bed. "And a ball. And I threw the ball for the dog and we had fun. Can we get a dog, Mommy?" he asked abruptly.

She smiled at him. "Not right now."

"But-"

"Ricky," she said gently. "You're going to have a baby sister or brother soon enough and it's too hard to take care of a baby and a dog." Especially if your dad keeps disappearing like this. 

Ricky huffed at her. "Fine." He took his clothes and trotted off to the bathroom.

Sharon smiled as he went, knowing he'd have forgotten all about dogs by the time he came out for breakfast. She walked out to the kitchen and surveyed the shelves in the pantry before choosing a box of oatmeal. She measured out enough for herself and Ricky and cooked it over the stove, adding raisins and milk as it warmed. When Ricky joined her, she pushed his bowl over to him and spoke.

"Dad was thinking I could pick you up early and we could all go to dinner."

"At a diner?"

"Yes, at a diner. Is there anywhere you'd like to go, particularly?"

"Someplace with mac cheese."

"Macaroni and cheese?" Sharon clarified.

"Yes! Mac cheese!"

Sharon thought about it. "What if we went to an Italian restaurant?"

"Do they have mac cheese?"

"They have all sorts of pasta. You can get it with cheese, or chicken, or tomatoes-"

"Cheese," he said firmly.

"I'll tell Daddy so he can make reservations, then." Sharon began to clear the dishes. "Go get your backpack." She washed the bowls, set the pot to soak, gathered her things, and waited by the door. Ricky came rocketing past a minute later, bag in hand.

*~*~*~*~*

Sharon dropped Ricky at his daycare, and drove to the Parker Center. She parked in her usual spot and walked to the elevators. There was a large crowd of officers, as per usual, but she didn't see Flynn or Provenza. For some reason, she felt relieved not to have to speak with them. When she got in the elevator, a few minutes later, she rode up to the seventh floor, rather than the second. She stepped out, handbag over her shoulder. It was dark in Robbery-Homicide, the blinds drawn and lights off. Apparently they had received a call-out and had yet to return.

She walked through the desks, her shoes thumping softly on the tiles. There was a large office at the back that she assumed was the department head's. When she got close enough she could see the small brass placard: Deputy Chief Mark Stoddard. She opened the door, leaned in, and tossed her report on his desk. It felt wrong to be in the office alone, so she quickly shut the door and hurried back out.

She didn't pass anyone on the was to FID, and it struck her as somewhat humorous. Every other hallway would be swarming with people at this hour. She ducked into their offices, brightly lit this time, and waited for the woman at the front desk to finish her phone conversation.

"How can I help you?"  she asked a moment later.

"I have my report on the-" she paused, trying to remember the name. "The Rogers case from yesterday."

The woman stood and lead Sharon through a warren of desks and portable whiteboards. "Commander Bancroft would like to speak with you."

Sharon frowned. "I thought everything was taken care of already."

The woman shrugged, not bothering to turn around. "I can't say ma'am; all I know is that he requested to speak with you." She knocked on the Commander's door and held it open for Sharon.

Sharon stepped in, report in hand. "Sir?"

"Sit down, Sergeant," Bancroft said pleasantly. "We have a proposal for you." He was seated behind his desk, neatly dressed in a dark gray suit. A tall, hawk-like woman sat across from him. She wore an elegant skirt suit and her ruffled gray hair was cropped short.

Sharon sat next to the woman and placed her report on Bancroft's desk. He picked it up, surprised.

"Quick work, Sergeant."

"I don't like to leave loose ends," she said quietly. "Sir, what-"

He set the report down and looked up. "Sergeant, you're taking leave at the end of October and coming back in December, is that correct?"

"Yes," she replied. "Why-"

The other woman interrupted. "Sergeant Raydor, I am Commander Laurie Hotchkiss, from Special Ops. I am also the Woman's Coordinator for the LAPD. Commander Bancroft asked me to speak with him after you came by his office last night. We have some ideas and thought we'd see if you were interested."

Sharon raised her eyebrows. "Interested in what, ma'am?"

"We wanted to know if you'd be interested in taking over the Professional Standards Bureau."



A/N- I know it's not much, but I wanted you to have something and I promise there will be more in four days (: Thanks for sticking around!