Randominity

Title: Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pride Parade, Chapter 2/?
Author: randominity
Fandom: Two Guys and a Girl. Spoilers through the series finale.
Pairing(s): Ashley/Sharon, Johnny/Pete, background Berg/Irene
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Disclaimers: I lay no claim to these characters, which firmly remain the property of ABC or you know, whoever. Someone NOT ME.
Author's Notes: Crack. That's all I'm sayin'. Much thanks to vandonovan for the cracked-out suggestions, the encouragement, and basically helping me fix what sucks.
Feedback: To the two of you reading this: Yes, please!

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2



"Pete! Pete!" Sharon whisper-yelled, knocking lightly on Pete and Berg's door with one hand, the other hand clutching at her forehead. She stood in the hallway in her pajamas and slippers, trying to peer into to peep-hole in reverse. "Pete!"

"What? What is it?" Pete swung his door open. "What are you doing?" he asked as she breezed by him, heading for the hallway.

"Have you seen Johnny?" Sharon asked frantically, poking her head into Pete's bedroom and coming back out again, making her way to the kitchen. "He never came home last night. I waited up until I passed out, but he wasn't there when I woke up, either." She got a bottle of water out of the fridge and unscrewed it. "God," she moaned, after taking a huge swig. "I am so hung over. Do you know where he is?"

Pete looked at the door warily, then at Sharon. "Johnny? No." He frowned and pushed the door shut as he walked into the living room.

Sharon dropped her hands in disbelief. "You went looking for him last night, didn't you? You didn't see him at all?"

"Oh, that," Pete said. He shrugged uncomfortably. "Well, I-- I saw him, uh, briefly. He was... I mean, he was-- there," he waved in the general direction of the stoop as Sharon approached, then sat down on the arm of the sofa. "Not that we... I didn't talk to him much, or anything. And then he went for a walk, and...." he gave Sharon a helpless look. "I thought he'd just come back when he was done."

"Well, he didn't," Sharon said, putting her bottle down on the coffee table. She hit Pete on the shoulder. "I can't believe you lost my husband! I can't believe you just left him out there!"

"Hey, he left me," Pete argued. "And you know what? We have training to do at the firehouse today-- he's supposed to be there right now." He frowned in realization. "Oh. Oh, this is bad."

"Pete!" Sharon hit him again. "He didn't come home last night! For all I know he's in a gutter somewhere, and all you can think about is that he'll miss training? Go look for him!" She gave him a feeble shove, and he staggered backwards. "Go! Go-- oh, my head," she muttered, burying her face in her hands and sitting down on the sofa.

Pete seemed to debate with himself for a moment, watching her, then sighed and pressed his lips together. "All right, fine," he said, "I'm on my way to the firehouse myself, but I'll keep an eye out, and if I see him, I'll call you."

She looked up. "You mean you're not gonna go look for him?"

"Sharon, I have a job!" Pete said. "You know? Responsibilities! Actually--" he nodded at her-- "don't you have to be at work now, too?"

"Hello?" Sharon pointed to her head. "Hungover?" She clasped her hands together, pleading. "Just find my husband, okay? Please?"

"Yeah, yeah, Sharon, I'll find him." Pete waved at her over his shoulder as he left the apartment.

"Promise!" she yelled.

"Okay!" Pete bellowed back.

Sharon continued to cradle her head and drink from her bottle as Ashley came out of the bathroom, pulling a bathrobe tightly around her. Ashley's hair hung damp about her shoulders, and she tilted her head shyly as she approached Sharon. "Hey," she said softly, coming to a stop near the breakfast nook.

Sharon jumped, startled, and glanced back over her shoulder, wincing as she did. "Oh, hi. Oh, hi!" she said again, rising to her feet. "Ashley! What are you still doing here?"

Ashley's nervous smile faded, and she glanced down. "I, uh... I'm having my movers bring my stuff back out of storage so I can keep living here," she explained. "It's kind of a disaster area at my place right now, so I thought I'd come back down here to wait it out."

"You mean you're staying?" Sharon raised her eyebrows.

"Well," Ashley shrugged. "Well, yeah. I talked with an advisor at Stanford and she said I can still get in for next semester if I change my mind, so."

"Wow," Sharon said. "I mean," she waved her hand in Ashley's direction, "that's great for you! But... wow." She paused, then turned and paced the length of the sofa. "Johnny didn't come home last night," she blurted. "We don't know where he is, or, or how he is. He's supposed to be at the firehouse, so Pete's out looking for him."

"Oh," Ashley said. "I'm sorry. I... I can't help but feel partly responsible. Did you need any--" she took an uncertain step towards Sharon, her hands outstretched.

Sharon took a step back. "No," she said in a small voice. "I'm not sure we should be...." she looked away, pressing the heel of her hand against her thigh. "I think I've lost him," she said, her voice breaking.

"I understand," Ashley said with a curt nod, and dropped her arms. "What would you like me to do?"

Sharon looked back at the door, then at Ashley, then down at her hands. "Hold me," she said sadly.

Ashley reached out for her. "Of course," she murmured, and pulled Sharon close, wrapping her arms around her. They stayed like that for a moment, Ashley's chin on Sharon's shoulder, until the sound of the phone ringing startled them apart.

~*~

When Pete stepped out onto the stoop, Johnny was sitting on the corner with his head down. Pete spared a frustrated glance to the heavens and threw up his hands; if the man's idea of going missing was to camp out in front of his building, and Sharon didn't think to look for him there, they probably deserved each other. Even if Johnny had kissed him. Oh boy. This was going to be awkward.

"Johnny?" Pete leaned over Johnny, casting a shadow, and stared at the back of Johnny's neck just long enough to make sure he was breathing. "Hey. Hey, Johnny?" He took a step back and cautiously poked Johnny in the shoulder with two fingers, then pulled away. Coming closer, he jabbed his fingers into Johnny's shoulder again, hard.

"Buh? What?" Johnny started and his arms rose slightly as he sat up straight and looked around. Pete sprang up two steps to wait out the disorientation. "Pete?" Johnny looked at him confusedly, then glanced up at the sky. "Sun's up," he observed dully. "I was out here all night?"

"Yeah, apparently," Pete told him. "You know," he added, his voice rising, "Sharon was really worried about you. She's up there freaking out right now because you didn't come home."

"Oh," Johnny rose half-way, then sat back down again. "I, uh. Wasn't really ready to go home just yet." He shook his head. "I'm not really sure I'm ready now, either."

"Yeah, well," Pete said, gesturing for Johnny to stand up, "you can't go home anyway. You were supposed to be at the training house a half hour ago."

"Oh! God, sorry!" Johnny quickly stood, patting himself down and checking his watch. "Come on," he added, I'll give you a ride."

Pete followed Johnny to his truck, pulling his cell phone from his pocket and dialing. "Call your wife?" he offered, when he was finished, holding it out to Johnny.

Johnny stopped in front of the driver's side door and looked across the hood at the phone in Pete's hand. "I can't," he decided. "Not now. Just tell her I'm with you." His eyes widened. "I mean," he stammered. "Not with you, just. Tell her I'm fine!" he yelled, and dove inside the truck.

~*~

"Well, Johnny's with Pete," Sharon said, hanging up the cordless phone, "thank God." She sighed, frustrated. "He wouldn't even talk to me!" Pointing to herself, she went on. "Johnny never gives me the silent treatment. I give him the silent treatment, and it drives him crazy!" Suddenly worried, she added, "what if he never talks to me again?" She turned and put her forehead on Ashley's shoulder. "I shouldn't even be doing this," she muttered.

"Doing what," Ashley asked, "hugging a friend?"

"Touching you at all," Sharon said. "I shouldn't even be here. This is too... too..." she waved her hands around, searching for the word.

"Lesbian?" Ashley guessed.

"Lesbian! Yes!" Sharon agreed, pulling away. At the knowing look on Ashley's face, she couldn't help but release an embarrassed laugh at her own expense. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's just, I feel like it's hanging over my head like some big... lesbian thing, oh God." She rested her elbows on the kitchen counter and put her head down there instead.

"How did you know," she asked after a moment, raising her head. "That you were... you know--"

"Attracted to both women and men?" Ashley frowned in thought and shrugged. "I don't know; in my teens, I guess. My family's just always been really straightforward about gay and lesbian attraction."

"I mean, I've just-- I've never thought of anyone that way," Sharon protested. "I've never-- I don't know if I'm--"

"Sharon," Ashley said, coming over to her. "Sharon. Listen to me. This," she gestured to herself, "isn't for everyone. For me, it just so happens that being with a woman can be as satisfying as being with a man. It's just different, that's all. It's okay to question your feelings. I love you, and I would never want your marriage with Johnny to end on account of a drunken mistake with me."

"It's just," Sharon began shyly, "I'm not.... I'm not sure it was a mistake."

Ashley stared at her, her brow furrowing. "What?" Her voice was barely audible.

"I know," Sharon moaned, nodding emphatically. "I know! I mean, I don't know!" Her hands fluttered about her face, then clutched at her hair. "It was, it was unlike anything I've ever experienced before, it was--"

"Better?" Ashley supplied.

"It was incredible." Sharon dropped her hands and gave Ashley a searching look. "I don't know if I can ever come back from this," she admitted.

"Then you owe it to Johnny to tell him that," Ashley said. "You owe it to him to be sure. If this is something you think is going to come between the two of you, then you owe it to him to take the time you need to--"

Sharon silenced her by placing one hand against Ashley's cheek. She tilted her head at Ashley, smiling sadly. "I want to be sure," she said, and kissed her friend, bringing both hands up to cup Ashley's face as she maneuvered them both back against the kitchen counter.

After a long moment, they parted, still holding on to one another. "Okay, it's settled," Ashley said slowly, letting out a long breath through pursed lips, "I say we go upstairs, berate my movers until they bring in the bed, and then tell them to come back tomorrow."

"Or," Sharon suggested, "we could ask nicely?"

"Fine," Ashley sighed. "We can try it your way."

~*~

"Hey, listen, Pete," Johnny said, his eyes firmly on the road ahead of him as he drove, "I'm uh. Sorry about last night. I didn't mean to--" he glanced at Pete. "I didn't scare you, did I?" he asked.

"Me? Nah." Pete started shaking his head, then thought better of it and nodded. "It wasn't you that scared me," he admitted. "It was more how...." he waved his hand. "Never mind," he said.

"Pete, that was... uh...." Johnny started, back to watching the road. He seemed to struggle for a moment. "It was...." He took a deep breath. "Pete, I'm a married man," he said emphatically. "I love that woman we left back there, and I... I swore to myself that I would make this work, and that's what I'm gonna do."

"That's great," Pete nodded quickly. "That's great, and I'm totally behind you." He caught himself and closed his eyes, mortified. "I mean," he amended, "I totally support you. With Sharon." A glance out of the corner of his eye confirmed that Johnny was watching him suspiciously.

"We're here," Johnny finally said, his voice flat as he pulled into the lot at the fire station.

"Right," Pete sighed, rubbing his hands together briskly. "All right, we can do this. We're professionals, huh? We're two professional men. Two... very straight... professional men. So the most important thing to remember here is... that nothing happened last night."

"Nothing happened," Johnny repeated resolutely.

"Exactly."

They risked one last, pained glance at each other, then exited the truck without another word.

*

"All right, rookies," Pete said loudly, checking over his daily schedule on the clipboard he held to his chest, "today we're gonna go over what happens when one of your comrades is incapacitated. You're gonna go into that training house," he gestured behind him, "in pairs, and take turns carrying your partner out.

"Now," he continued, "for this exercise we're gonna assume your partner's conscious and responsive, so there are a few things you can do to help out as you're being carried. Donnelly and I will go first to demonstrate. Wait, what?" His eyes widened and he checked his clipboard again. "Who made this roster?" he squeaked. "This is terrible!!"

Rodriguez raised her hand. "Uh, I thought you made up the roster, sir?"

"Hey," he pointed at her belligerently. "No talking from the rookies, or I'll have you counting the rolls of toilet paper! Okay," he searched around. "Donnelly, you and Quinn go inside and demonstrate for the rooks, okay?" He indicated the bald-headed, beefy initiate that had graduated training in the same batch as Johnny.

Johnny raised his eyebrows and looked up at Quinn, his jaw dropping. The guy was a house, even next to Johnny. "Chuck?" Johnny said. "Why do I have to go with Chuck?"

Pete put down his clipboard and stalked over to Johnny, dropping his voice. "You got a problem with this, Donnelly?"

"Pete," Johnny whispered, taking Pete aside by the arm. "Listen. My back still hasn't recovered from all those training exercises a few weeks back, okay?" he explained. "I try carrying Chuck out of that house, I'll end up back at square one!"

"So, what," Pete said, curling his lip, "you expect some kind of special treatment all of a sudden, 'just cause we..." he waved his hands, then checked over his shoulder, "just-- just 'cause nothing happened?" he sputtered.

Johnny's mouth tightened into a thin line. "Fine," he said curtly, taking off his jacket and throwing it down. "Fine. You want to be professional? All right, I'll go. Come on, Chuck," he called, and rolled up his sleeves as he walked into the training house.

~*~

"Well, okay," Sharon said, clutching Ashley's sheets to her chin in her fists, "that's never happened to me before."

Beside her, Ashley laughed. "Well, had you ever tried it?"

"Well, no," Sharon admitted, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. "I mean, I guess we would have, except--" her voice dropped to a whisper-- "I thought that was just a myth!"

"Oh, so did I, until sophomore year," Ashley recalled fondly, propping herself up on one elbow and looking down on Sharon. "A girl named Sadie made me a believer."

"Well, consider me converted," Sharon agreed, sighing.

Ashley smirked. "Really?" she asked, and Sharon gave her an embarrassed look.

"No," she admitted, "I've just got a lot more to think about, now." She screwed up her face, frustrated. "I just wish we hadn't rushed into things like this!" she said. "Was I really not thinking so clearly this morning?

"I'm not sure any of us were," Ashley told her. "If someone had told me yesterday that I'd be getting my furniture out of storage just to stay here a little longer, I would have called them crazy."

Sharon smiled and brought her fingers up to trace through Ashley's hair. "I'm glad you decided to stay, though," she said softly.

Ashley seemed to struggle with how to respond to that. "Well," she finally said, "I'm sure I'll come to regret it sooner or later." She smiled back, though, ducking her head, and the words had no sting to them.

~*~

Johnny held back a groan as he shifted uncomfortably in the driver's side seat of his truck. His back was killing him, no thanks to the three hundred pounds of Chuck he'd had to carry out of the training house.

"Ah, this was a fun day," Pete sighed happily, adjusting the radio. "I love putting the grind to new rookies!" He glanced at Johnny and added, with mock seriousness, "I think we did good work today."

Johnny simply turned to glare at him for a moment. "Yeah, go ahead, laugh it up," he said coldly. "I'm barely gonna be able to walk tomorrow after what you put me through today."

"What?" Pete put a hand to his chest. "What, you mean that stuff with Chuck? You said that was fine!"

"I was lying," Johnny sing-songed pointedly. "And--" he gripped the steering wheel harder, bracing himself-- "listen, you're not mad at me about last night, are you? 'Cause if you are, you're--"

"No, why would I be mad?" Pete asked quickly, and snorted. "Of course I'm not mad. There's nothing to be mad about. I'm not mad."

"Well, 'cause I think I'm gonna tell Sharon," Johnny said, pulling in to a parking spot on the street outside of their building. "About..." he busied himself with unfastening his seatbelt and easing out of his seat, "...you know."

"Wait, why?" Pete rushed around to meet Johnny at the driver's side door, hovering when Johnny paused due to the pain in his back. "You can't tell her, why would you tell her?"

"Because if I'm gonna ask her to be honest with me," Johnny explained, "I owe it to her to be honest, too." He shrugged. "It might help put us on even ground with one another."

Pete snorted again. "No it won't," he said, dismissive. They came to a stop at the stairs leading down to the basement. "I mean, if you think about it," he pointed to himself. "I kissed Sharon, and then you-- we--"

"We," Johnny gestured back and forth between them.

"Yeah, we..." Pete wrinkled his nose. "Wow, it doesn't get any easier saying that, does it? Anyway, my point is, if you tell Sharon, it's like from then on, I'm always gonna be there, between you two." He raised his eyebrows at Johnny. "Always between you, like the ghost that destroys your marriage!" He threw up his hands. "You can't have that! So you can't tell her."

"Yeah," Johnny was nodding. "Maybe I should kiss Ashley to even things up, then," he suggested sarcastically. He winced as he headed down the stairs, one at a time.

"No!" Pete hissed, and grabbed at Johnny's arm, and Johnny fixed Pete with a look that promised an eventual beating as soon as he felt well enough.

Pete reconsidered that path of action, and let go. He opted instead to race down the stairs ahead of Johnny, hurling himself in front of Johnny and Sharon's apartment door. "Just think about it, Johnny," he said, when Johnny finally hobbled up. "If you tell Sharon about this?" He held up a finger. "Don't expect to get any sympathy about your back problems."

"Aha!" Johnny jabbed an accusing finger at Pete. "So you admit you knew carrying Chuck would throw out my back again!"

"Well--" Pete took on an expression of comical disbelief. "No!"

"Step out of the way, Pete," Johnny said, as calmly as he could manage it. "I need to talk to my wife."

"Fine!" Pete said hotly, storming past Johnny. "Just remember--" he stopped to point at his face-- "Ghost!"

Johnny watched Pete go, then unlocked his and Sharon's apartment door. "Sharon?" he asked tentatively as he opened the door. He gingerly shrugged his jacked off of one shoulder, wincing as he did, then pulled it off the other and set it down on a chair at the breakfast nook. "Sharon, baby, can we talk?"

He bent slowly to retrieve a beer from the fridge, scanning over the rest of the apartment as he did. Sharon wasn't in the living room, and the Murphy bed was folded up, so unless she was in the bathroom it was obvious that she wasn't home.

"You're not at Pete and Berg's, are you, honey?" he wondered aloud. "'Cause there's... an awful lot of steps between here and there, baby."

Ashley's phone had been disconnected the previous day, so Johnny picked up the cordless phone and dialed Pete's number while he tried to work out some of the kinks in his back. After three rings, the answering machine picked up.

"Pete?" he said after the tone. "Pete, pick up if you're there, this is Johnny. I just need to know if you know where Sharon is. She's not at the apartment, so I was wondering if maybe she was up there with you." He debated saying the next part, realizing that if Sharon were there, she'd have answered the phone herself. "I really need to see her, Pete. Let me know if you see her, okay?"

*

Johnny steeled himself outside of Ashley's door before raising his hand to knock. In his other hand he held the superintendent ring of master keys, but he was hoping to avoid having to use that. "Ashley?" he called. "Are you in there? I was wondering if you knew where Sharon might be?"

He heard movement from inside, and his hopes rose. "Just a minute!" Ashley's voice rang out, then after a moment the door opened and Ashley leaned against the frame. Her hair was limp and undone, and she looked tired, like she'd been exerting herself.

"Hey," she said. "I wasn't expecting you to stop by anytime soon."

"I wasn't expecting you to stick around for much longer, either," he responded. Behind her in the living room, Johnny could see that Ashley's sofa and much of her furniture was back in place. Sharon, however, was nowhere to be found. "You moved back in?" he wondered.

"For the time being," she nodded. "I'm planning on trying again next semester instead."

He nodded back, waiting for her to volunteer the information he'd come for. When she didn't, he prodded. "And have you seen Sharon?"

"Johnny?" Sharon said meekly. Her head appeared in the hallway behind Ashley, then the rest of her slowly emerged, wrapped in a towel.

"Sharon!" Johnny glanced at Ashley and she obligingly stepped aside so that he could approach his wife. "Sharon, what're you doing here?"

"Oh," she pointed behind her. "I was just using Ashley's shower."

Johnny raised an eyebrow. "Why were using her shower?"

"Mmm, I think there's something wrong with our shower, baby," she said quickly, then looked up at him with sad eyes. "You really wanted to see me? I thought you were mad at me."

"Honey, I'm over it," Johnny said. "Well," he amended, "okay, I'm not over it, but we'll talk, and we can--"

"I went back downstairs looking for you last night," she said, becoming increasingly upset, "and when you weren't there, I thought--"

"Shhh," he said, putting his hands on the sides of her face.

"I'm so sorry," she went on, "I-- I was drunk, and she was drunk, and it--I didn't mean to, it--"

"Shhh," he said again. "It's okay, Sharon, it's really okay!"

"It is?"

"Yeah," he nodded slowly, dropping his hands to Sharon's shoulders. "I've thought about it a little, and... well, drunk a lot, and thought some more, and I realize that-- you made a mistake here." He glanced back at Ashley, then returned his gaze to Sharon, still rubbing her shoulders gently. "Now, I could get really upset, and threaten to leave you, and give up on this marriage, but I'm not gonna do that. We're gonna work through this, okay?"

He bit back a groan as he hugged her to him, burying her face in his chest, and it felt so right for a moment, like none of the previous night's events had happened, and if he closed his eyes he could almost smell the hot steam and moisture and scent of soap and shampoo coming off--

If he thought about it, he couldn't actually smell anything. He pulled back a bit, looking puzzled. He lifted a hand off of her shoulder and examined his palm. "Honey, you're..." he looked back up at her. "Are you sweating?"

"Huh?" Sharon asked, then looked down at herself and reacted quickly. "Whew," she fanned herself. "I sure used the water hot in there," she exclaimed, and mimed wiping at her forehead.

Johnny frowned as he examined her more closely. "Your hair's not even wet..." he observed. He pulled away from her entirely and turned, suddenly seeing Ashley's disheveled state in a whole new light.

"Johnny...." Sharon began uncertainly.

Johnny braced himself, taking a step back from Sharon. "Sharon," he said, fighting to remain calm, "was there something you wanted to tell me--"

"Johnny, I--"

"Before I came in here and forgave you for kissing Ashley?"

Ashley took a step toward him. "Johnny, if I may--"

"Ashley," Johnny said levelly, "I'd like to hear what my wife has to say about all of this."

Sharon's eyes filled with tears. "Sweetie, I thought you weren't going take me back," she said.

"It hasn't even been a day!" Johnny argued. "And you were-- with her? It sure didn't take long for you to give up! Is that really what you thought I'd do?"

"It's what I'd do!" Sharon cried. She wiped at her tears angrily with one hand, still holding the towel in place with the other. "I wouldn't have forgiven you!"

"Well, I'm not you! This," he gestured between them, "is why they say marriage takes work, Sharon. I came into this marriage prepared to work. Last night, I just needed some time to get my thoughts together, not to walk away!"

"And what about now?" she asked miserably.

"Now?" Johnny looked between Sharon and Ashley, then at the door. "Now, I think I need some more time." He passed Ashley on the way to the door, then stopped and turned around again. "I need to know," he said. "Is this what you want? You don't want to fight for this?"

Sharon's face crumpled. "I don't know what I want," she said.

"I," Ashley interjected nervously, "I think I should probably should go check on the bookshelves in my room." She smiled tightly, pointing over her shoulder, and made a quick exit.

Johnny's expression was forlorn as they heard the bedroom door close. "You don't love me anymore?" he asked softly.

"Of course I love you," Sharon insisted, "of course, oh, Johnny..." She rushed over and took his hands in hers. He kept his hands close to his body, and she noticed, faltering slightly. "Of course I love you," she said again, "it's just... I'm just not so sure we made all the right decisions anymore."

"You mean decisions like getting married?" Johnny's voice and face were equally stony. Sharon looked down at their joined hands, unable to bring herself to say anything further.

Johnny's nod as he withdrew his hands was abrupt and very businesslike. "Fine," he said. "You need some time to figure out what you want? I can give you that. I have some things I need to figure out for myself. And maybe," he added, "if I'm lucky, I'll figure out that I don't want to be married anymore. But I don't think it'll be that simple." He gazed at Sharon coldly for a moment, then stepped out into the hallway and pulled the door shut behind him, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Sharon's shoulders drooped as soon as he'd left, and she lifted a hand to her face as real tears began to fall, sobs wracking her body. Ashley quietly emerged from the hall and took a few tentative steps toward Sharon, hands outstretched, before she thought better of it and stopped. She stood watching for a moment, feeling awkward, then wandered back into her room to leave Sharon in peace.

end chapter two.