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Castle in the Sky

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Lieutenant Andrew Flynn let the office door slam a little harder than was probably appropriate as he entered the office and took a seat. He wasn’t happy to be there, and if the raised eyebrow and thin lips of the woman sitting across the desk from him was any indication, she was less than happy that he graced her office, yet again. She also seemed far from surprised or amused with the manner in which he’d entered.

“Lieutenant Flynn.” She barely glanced in his direction and instead kept her concentration on the substantial file in front of her.

Flynn was not new to her modus operandi. He knew that she wanted him to sit there and stew. It was as though she was treating him like one of her kids, wanting to make him think about what he’s done and come up with a fitting punishment all on his own. He also knew, that she knew, that this tactic drove him nuts. All it succeeded to do was allow his temper to fester to the point where they would be screaming at each other in her office from across her desk in a matter of minutes. Sometimes he wondered if she got off on the conflict as much as he did.

He sat there for a few moments, the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching almost beyond his control. Andy felt the edges of the arm of the chair dig into the flesh of his hands as he gripped it waiting for her to finish whatever it was that she was doing. She casually flipped a few pages and began concentrating on something else.

Andy sighed. “Come on, already. I know as well as you do that you have that entire damned folder memorized backwards and forwards a hundred times over. There is nothing in there that could possibly be that new to you.”

Captain Sharon Raydor closed the file slowly and removed her glasses as she moved to look up at him, the perfectly sculpted eyebrow raised in his direction yet again. “You should also know very well that there is good reason that I have you entire jacket memorized. Of all the officers that I have dealt with throughout my career with the LAPD, you have got to be at the top of the list of those who have spent the most time in my office. The only one who comes remotely close to you is probably that misogynistic partner of yours. How any division decided that it was a good idea to put the two of you together is beyond me.”

“Apparently someone has a sense of humor.”

The hum that she replied to him with had no right to have the reaction on him that it did, and he was fairly certain that it annoyed him significantly more. Instead of instigating things further, he rolled his eyes and tried to relax the tension in his jaw, standing to pace the area in front of her desk. “Look, Raydor, it’s pretty cut and dry. The jackass criminal had an attitude and hell of a left hook. He clocked Ramirez in the nose and socked West in the eye. The rookie won’t see straight for a week. He needed a good ass kicking.”

Sharon stood up, her palms resting flat against her desk as she leaned over it slightly. “And that’s your defense and justification for putting the kid in the hospital? He deserved a good ass kicking? You’re talking about a group of adult men and a nineteen year old kid, but since he got in a few good shots it’s fine that you gave him a concussion and he needed twenty seven stitches?”

Andy felt his blood pressure rising and he rubbed his hand along the back of his neck to try and calm himself down. He gritted his teeth as he practically growled out a response. “The jackass fell, okay?”

Raydor actually laughed as her hand slapped down on the desk. “Seriously? That is the oldest line in the book.” She rounded the desk and stood just a few inches away from him.

He turned and looked down on her, his breath coming in short, quick huffs. Her eyes were sharp and her nostrils flared as she crossed her arms across her chest. Andy was sure that the intent was to shield her from him, to give that semblance of space that wasn’t actually there, instead it pushed her breasts up a little further and his fingers itched to reach out, to see if she was as affected as he was by their verbal sparring.

“You’ll have to come up with something better than that, Lieutenant.” Her eyes flashed with anger, practically daring him to push her.

Andy wasn’t sure exactly what it was about this day -- maybe it was all of the pent up adrenaline that he still had coursing through his veins from his earlier confrontation with their suspect, or maybe it was the fact that it was late and all of the other desks in FID were currently empty with only a dim light on for the cleaning crew or anyone making their way in to be able to find themselves around in the dark -- but he cupped her face, his thumbs caressing her cheeks as his finger wove around the back of her neck and tilted her head just before he pressed his lips to hers.

Sharon gasped against his lips and Andy took that as the perfect opportunity, quickly gaining entrance to her mouth and deepening the kiss. He could feel the slight bite of her nails as her hands fisted in his shirt and he took a small step forward, pinning her legs against her desk. Andy felt her tense, and expected her to end this. He fully expected to be pushed back and feel the sting of a sharp slap against his cheek. The hum that moved through her and traveled down his spine was far from the reaction that he had been anticipating.

Andy’s hands refused to remain idle, despite the part of his brain that was screaming at him that he was throwing his career down the toilet and should quit while he was ahead, profusely apologize, and just take whatever consequences The Wicked Witch wanted to dole out. His fingertips traveled down her neck, provoking another set of hums, before moving down her arms to rest on her hips. Sharon’s head tilted back as his mouth moved away from hers and traced a path to her ear, where he nipped gently at the lobe before nibbling lightly on the skin behind and below.

Sharon’s hands were constantly busy. After initially fisting in his shirt, she moved to grab onto his suspenders and then to toy with the buttons, her hand slipping beneath the fabric to run against the plains of his chest as she tried to control her breathing.

“Lieutenant.” Her head was tilted back and her voice had a husky quality to it that he vowed he wanted to hear more of. “We can’t… we shouldn’t… I’m a married woman.”

Andy snorted into her neck, gripped her hips a little tighter and hoisted her onto her desk. Despite how tempted he was, he refrained from telling her that he couldn’t give two shits if Jackson Raydor walked through the door at that very minute -- and he seriously doubted that she did either.

He wants to strip her, wants to have her bared before him in all her glory so that he can finally discover the secrets held beneath the business suits and pencil skirts that she’s so fond of. He wants to discover if there’s a Cesarean scar along her abdomen or if she’s had an appendectomy. He’s curious about the rumors of her being both shot and stabbed prior to leaving the beat for the safe confines of the Rat Squad, and he really wants to know just how far down her chest those freckles go. He knows that he’s never going to get the answers to all of those questions in her office, though, and he’s not willing to risk what would happen if he stopped them now to move to a better location.

He’ll take what he can get, right here, right now, not wasting a second and thanking God for his blessings if he manages to walk away with even a shred of his career in tact. His fingers continue to inch up the delicate skin of her thigh, tracing intricate patterns against the smooth fabric of her stockings. When his fingers encountered the lace trim high on her thigh he groaned and stepped between her legs, edging her knees further apart. His nails trailed along the soft skin just above, enjoying how the skin broke out in gooseflesh and how she jumped slightly, but was unable to get away from his touch.

When his fingers skimmed further they encountered the soft satin of her panties and he was dying to know what color they were. He nipped gently at her lips catching the bottom one between his teeth as his fingers slipped between her legs and traced the material that kept him from his goal. Sharon moaned, the tips of her carefully manicured nails digging into the skin at the nape of his neck as she rolled her hips into his touch.


He teases her with a series of barely there touches, skirting along her upper thighs and the material of her panties. When her free hand reaches down and cups him through his trousers, he swallows a growl and pushes the flimsy fabric to the side.

Andy’s fingers feel like they’re on fire as he caresses her. She’s hot and wet and as his fingers slide through her folds, he feels like he could die and go to heaven right then and there. The taste of her kiss and the pressure of her hand against his own groin are almost too much. His focus is determined though, he’s spent far too long fantasizing about this moment to embarrass himself before he makes Captain Sharon Raydor, Head of the Rat Squad and official Parker Center Wicked Witch scream his name in ecstasy.

His fingers curl on each thrust and his thumb rotates in variations of circles and figure eights and he can feel the tending of her muscles begin to ripple throughout her entire body. Her back curves away from him as her hips rotate forward, her chest arching up. Andy wishes he’d taken more time to unbutton her blouse as his mouth yearns to be able to taste the skin just below the cups of her bra, instead he leans forward a bit more and lets his teeth tease the skin through the blouse, gently catching the area where he imagines her nipple is and pulling.

“Oh, God.”

Andy releases her one breast and moves to the other, repeating his actions. This time her nipple is easy to detect, the tight peak easily noticeable despite the padding of her bra, and he clamps on at the same time that his hand executed a rather dexterous curl, thrust, circle move with just the tiniest bit of added pressure behind it.

Sharon’s head falls back, her knees clasp at his waist and her mouth falls open in a silent cry as her body tenses and he feels her muscles contracting around his fingers. In that moment he’s not sure he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.



Andy blinked and slowly took in his surroundings, noticing that Captain Raydor was standing in front of him with her hip leaning against her desk. He swallowed carefully around the lump in his throat and shifted his seated position hoping that his current predicament wasn’t as painfully obvious as it felt.

“Yes, Captain?” Even to his own ears his voice sounded rather frustrated, he just hoped Raydor interpreted that to be at the cause for their meeting and not the detour his brain decided to take him on.

Her eyes softened for a moment and he thought there was a shred of understanding in them, before she blinked and it was gone. “Honestly, Andy, there are days I wonder if you listen to anything I say.” She waved her hand in the direction of the door. “Your fellow officers seem to support your actions and I’m assuming sending you to another round of anger management will only compound the issue. Barring any unforeseen occurrences, that is all. My official review will be on the Chief’s desk tomorrow.”

She turned to his file, her back towards him for the moment and And decided he couldn’t give up the opportunity to slip out and down the hall quickly. If he managed to wind up back in her office a few more times before she started to suspect there was some ulterior motivation behind his actions… well, who could blame him?