Sharon Raydor was hugging a pillow, eating her words, and resting her eyes on the couch in her front room when her phone buzzed. She opened her eyes. For a moment, she considered not checking it. She didn't really feel like moving.
She heard it buzz again. You're leading Major Crimes now, she said to herself. You can't sit around and mope. You have a job. You have to get your ass off of the couch. NOW. She finally moved, but hoped to all the gods she could name that it was not a murder. She'd just left work and was not in the mood.
She fished around in her purse for her phone and finally found it glowing through the lining. And I STILL haven't fixed that hole in the pocket, she clicked her tongue. She gazed down at the screen. One missed call. One text.
Both from one Brenda Leigh Johnson, who in Sharon's phone was still labelled "Chief Johnson." Another thing I have to fix, she mused.
Hey Sharon, just wanted to see how your day went.
Fritz said Provenza's giving you a hard time. Big surprise!
Sharon snorted and smirked. A "hard time" was probably putting it lightly, but then he had worked through the case with notable professionalism after being reprimanded. And that would have to do for now. Fake it till you make it.
She hit reply and started to type out a short summary of what happened when she realized that Brenda had actually called her – called her – to talk about her day. They had been keeping in touch more regularly during the last few weeks of Brenda's suspension, usually about work. But Sharon assumed that it wouldn't last. Brenda would move on and Sharon would move into Major Crimes and they'd lose touch, just like Sharon lost touch with so many of the friends she'd made over the last few years. Few and far between, she thought.
This was the first time since then that Brenda had tried to call. And Sharon decided that rather than hugging a pillow, calling the Chief (not the Chief, not anymore, must stop thinking of her that way) was exactly the kind of comfort she needed.
Brenda picked up after only one ring, her familiar Southern brightness oozing through the speaker despite the late hour.
"Captain! I'm so glad you called back. How are you?" Brenda sounded enthusiastic. Sharon was caught off guard.
"I'm… well, Ch– …Brenda," and despite just saying she was fine, she sighed. "Just settling in after a very long day." She returned to her couch, picking up her glass of wine along the way. She took a sip and put it on the table, considered the pillow for a moment, then folded it into her arms again.
"I remember what it's like to be the new kid. My boys aren't always particularly welcoming. I heard a little from Fritzi, but why don't you tell me all about it?"
Sharon took in a deep breath and let it spill out of her: the case, the atmosphere when she arrived on scene, the slight discomfort she'd felt in Brenda's old office, the problems with Rusty, and finally that Rusty had come to stay with her for the time being. She also added in how she'd royally screwed up in not checking his mother's name before wandering into that minefield. By the end of the tale, she'd finished her glass of wine and gone to the kitchen for a refill. Amidst the story, Brenda had made sympathetic sounds in all the right places, asked questions, chuckled suitably, and been considerate and kind. Despite Sharon's slight buzz, she could almost swear that Brenda was getting more out of this than she was.
"Chief? You miss it don't you? Being there with the guys. Carrying out your interrogations."
"You're callin' me Chief again." They both laughed. There was a brief beat and then, "Yeah. Yeah, I do. I miss a lot about bein' there." She sounded tired all of a sudden. She sounded lost. Sharon returned to the couch with a full glass.
"How's the new job? You know you can visit whenever you like." Sharon smiled sadly. She already missed the blonde's presence. She hadn't known just how much until she'd opened a desk drawer to deposit the folder and found the previous inhabitant's stash, glittering with all manner of sweet snacks.
"It's… good. Different. But good. It's just been so busy, adjusting to everything, learning all the ins and outs of the place. The people." Brenda sighed. "You never really appreciate what you have until you don't have it anymore. I've been feelin' that a lot lately.
Sharon figured she must not only mean the job but her mother too. Brenda had lost so much in the past few weeks, some of it for the best, some of it for the worst. Sharon hugged the pillow again, more tightly than before.
"That's very true. But I think–" Sharon was cut off by sounds on the other end of the line. She could hear Fritz's voice, Brenda muffling the phone with her hand as she answered whatever he'd asked.
"Sorry about that, Sharon. I didn't realize how late it was! I really hope I wasn't bothering you. You were saying?"
"I… can't actually remember what I was going to say," Sharon laughed at herself. You're losing it, old woman.
"Well then… how 'bout we say goodnight for now, and when you think of what it is, you give me a call?" Brenda purred. Sharon thought her voice had taken on a somewhat seductive quality. She glanced down at her glass of wine. Almost empty. Again. Maybe she had imagined the tone.
"Sounds good to me. And, Brenda? Take care of yourself. If you think of something you want to say first, don't hesitate to call. Anytime." She felt every word of what she said and secretly hoped the little blonde would call sooner rather than later.
"Absolutely," the smile was in her voice. "Goodnight, Sharon."
"Goodnight, Brenda."