Sharon Raydor stared down at the large selection of fruits, wary of the fact that her eyes were drawn, almost instantly, to the sign that read "Georgia peaches 2.48 per pound".

For it being a Sunday morning, the crowd in the grocery store was dense. She noticed several well dressed people who had probably come from church to shop and immediately felt guilty for skipping mass. Again.

As a young Catholic girl, Sharon had never missed a single Sunday mass for anything. Now that her sixtieth birthday had come to pass, she found herself finding more excuses not to attend.

Her excuse this morning had been an urgent need to finish paperwork; and her active libido had kept her in bed for a few too many hours. She assumed that was enough of an excuse. Perhaps she should go to confessional later to ask for forgiveness for the latter.

Having completed several reports, she found herself dressed down in a pair of jeans and a simple button-up, skimming the aisles of her local grocery store – in search of some sustenance for the week. She was hardly home, so it was always a hassle to buy fresh produce. She'd often get something and later find it rotten in her refrigerator. Were her children home, this might not happen. But they had their own lives, and she had a busy enough life for herself.

But her eyes kept lingering on those damn peaches.

She gave in. It was summertime, after all. The perfect time for peaches.

Tossing the sack of peaches in to her cart, Sharon quickly moved on, afraid of making some other impulsive purchase just because it reminded her of…

No. She wouldn't think about her. Not today. Today was a new day. Today, Sharon Raydor was not allowed to think about what had happened.

Pushing her cart past the produce section, she ventured in to the refrigerated section. She glanced longingly at the ice cream, but knew that if she bought a tub of it, she'd eat it all and then would feel obligated to run twice as far as she normally did on Monday mornings.

"I like the mint chocolate chip," a Southern drawl sounded at her side.

Sharon nearly jumped, her eyes widening behind the lenses of her glasses. But she refused to turn and acknowledge the person standing beside her. What was she doing here? She was the last person she wanted to see.

"And here I would have thought you'd like the double chocolate fudge ice cream." Sharon felt her nerves standing on end. Just to distract from the whole situation, she reached forward and pulled open the freezer door, grabbing her favorite flavor of ice cream. So she would run those extra miles. Just having to face her outside of work was worth the calories.

"Sharon," Brenda Leigh stepped in to her line of vision.

"No," Sharon shook her head and turned to push her cart away.

"I'm really sorry, Sharon." Brenda was now following her. Great, just great.

"I don't think we really need to discuss it."

"Why not?" Brenda sounded as she did when she stomped her foot defiantly on the ground. Sharon rolled her eyes, but refused to acknowledge her.

"You made your decision, Brenda Leigh." Sharon felt her skin crawling with all sorts of uncomfortable sensations. She wanted to pay for her ice cream and stupid Georgia peaches and leave the grocery store and not have to face Brenda.

"It's all so confusing," Brenda sounded almost as if she were on the verge of tears.

Sharon came to a halt in the middle of the canned fruit aisle. This caused the basket Brenda was carrying to jab painfully in to her side.

"Sorry," Brenda quickly stepped away.

"I'm not fucking discussing this in a grocery store." Sharon turned to face the timid blonde, keeping her voice low so as to not attract attention from other grocery store patrons.

"Then can we discuss it somewhere else?" Brenda's brown eyes flashed a hopeful, pleading look in Sharon's direction. It made her weak, and she hated it.

"You chose him." Sharon whispered before she could even realize what she was saying.

Brenda shook her head, tears welling in the corners of her eyes. "I didn't…I, um…" Brenda stepped aside to allow a young mother through with her cart full of food and kids.

"You what?" Sharon stood firm.

"We're um…we're separated."

Sharon rolled her eyes and turned to push her cart down the aisle again.

"Sharon!" Brenda huffed, catching up to her again.

"What!" This time she had to fight to bring her voice back down. She turned to face the frightened Deputy Chief – who hardly looked like a respectable member of the LAPD in this particular moment. "Separated means nothing to me, Brenda. Nothing. You'll still run back to him eventually. And beyond that…no. No, I'm not even…I can't do this here, Brenda." Sharon held up her hand and, having decided that shopping this morning was not meant to be, was headed to the checkout lane.

"Wait. Wait!" Brenda grabbed for Sharon's arm, stopping her right before she could cross the front aisle to the checkout line. "We're signin' divorce papers. I think that means somethin'." Brenda's voice was not so muted and Sharon noticed several startled older women staring in their direction.

"My house. Thirty minutes." Sharon gave in, wishing she hadn't.

Brenda's worried look smoothed over and she nodded, leaving Sharon to check out.

Sharon paced the length of her hardwood kitchen while puffing furiously on a cigarette, not entirely sure why she had thought this was a good idea. So what that Brenda Leigh was getting a divorce. Had it even been her idea? Had she told Agent Howard what had happened? What did this mean?

From the last year of sneaking around behind everyone's backs, Sharon could hardly believe that now Brenda Leigh would do a thing like this. She could hardly believe that she would fess up to the whole tangled mess.

Sharon was probably a fucking idiot to invite her over, especially with all of the uncertain, unclear, unsettled feelings she had towards her.

There was a knock on the front door. Sharon's already traveling feet carried her to the door. She unlocked and pulled it open, not ready to see Brenda Leigh standing on her doorstep with a flower and a bag from Sharon's favorite deli.

"I brought you some lunch." Her voice was small, timid.

Sharon pushed the screened door open and didn't wait to see if Brenda got inside. Instead, she turned and went to her kitchen, tapping her cigarette in an ashtray on the island.

Brenda appeared in the entrance way of the kitchen, waving a hand through the smoke filled air. She coughed before moving to set the food on the counter and then reached in to a cabinet where she knew a vase was housed. "Why are you smokin'?" She inquired while filling up the vase before placing the flower in it. She sat it down in the center of the island, content with how the flower looked in Sharon's kitchen.

"Why are you here?" Was Sharon's slow response.

"I told you, Fritzy…Fritz and I are getting' a divorce." Brenda crossed her arms and stared at the entrancingly beautiful woman before her. Even in her casual Sunday attire she was entirely too beautiful.

"Was it his idea?" Sharon sat down at the island and took a generous puff of her cigarette.

"Mine," Brenda frowned and crossed the kitchen, taking the cigarette from Sharon forcibly and butting it in the ashtray.

Sharon blew the smoke out the side of her mouth and matched Brenda's burning brown glare.

Brenda coughed, but didn't budge from her spot. "I miss you, Sharon Raydor."

"That doesn't mean you should get a divorce. It also doesn't mean we're meant to be together. You made it painfully obvious that you wanted nothing to do with a real relationship." Sharon coolly retorted.

"Maybe I was wrong," Brenda looked as if she were fighting off the urge to kiss Sharon.

"You could never admit to being with me, with a woman. How could we possibly work?" Sharon narrowed her eyes, incredulous.

"I could do it." Brenda crossed her arms.

Sharon simply reached for the bag of food Brenda had brought, pulling out two sandwiches. She instinctively knew which was meant for her.

"Sharon, I could!"

"Could doesn't mean you will." Sharon calmly corrected her.

Brenda huffed and took her sandwich from Sharon.

"I spent the first part of my life denying the fact that I was gay. I was bitter and angry, and married and had three children. I felt like my whole world would come crashing down if I came out then. But I managed to do it. My husband was already gone before I even had to come clean, and my children eventually accepted it. It became a non-issue. My parents were less than happy to find out about it, but for me as a woman of the LAPD, I need to be a role-model and I need to stand in my convictions. That's what I've been doing for thirty years, Brenda Leigh. And then…" Sharon paused, "and then you came along and you're everything I tried to stay away from. I really wish you'd left me alone."

Brenda bit in to her sandwich, staring contemplatively at the kitchen cabinets. "I'm sorry," she quietly, very near silently, whispered.

"I know. I willingly let myself fall in to this. But I cannot live a lie, Brenda. I can't be with someone I have to pretend I am not."

"I understand," Brenda nodded. "So," she sat her sandwich down – appetite clearly lost. "So, we're not meant to be together, then?"

Sharon sighed. "I don't know, Brenda Leigh." It was the wrong response, she knew. She knew it was not worth her time to even consider the woman she'd helped commit adultery on her husband. A woman who could not admit to herself or the people around her that she was in to women.

Yet, Brenda Leigh in her kitchen, sitting next to her, bringing her a flower and food – was something she wanted. Almost more than anything.

"Isn't there…is there some way to start over?" Brenda bit her lip.

Sharon rubbed her forehead.

"I'll tell the entire world I'm a lesbian." Brenda could sense Sharon's hesitancy about the whole situation, so she thought she could sway Sharon in to at least giving them another chance. It was what she wanted, what she probably had wanted the entire time, but had been too afraid to take, to accept, to acknowledge.

Sharon doubtfully looked over at her. "Are you a lesbian?"

Brenda frowned, "I certainly enjoy sleeping with you, and kissing you, and being with you. Doesn't that make me a lesbian?"

"But you also like men. You could very well be bisexual." Sharon crossed her legs.

"But I really just wanna be with you," Brenda frowned. Sharon was making this difficult, and she supposed she had every right to.

Sharon closed her eyes, wishing this whole dreadful situation would just go away. She could go back to her normal, boring life of solitude with a few no-tangle one-night stands every now and again to satiate her need for human contact. She could return to her regular routine of just looking after herself.

But she quickly realized that within the last year she'd lost all sense of self, of being alone. She could also recognize that she no longer wanted to be single.

"Do you want to go for a swim?" Sharon pushed her chair back and began to undo the buttons on her shirt, glad that she'd made the smart decision of purchasing a home with a pool – equally glad that said pool had a tall fence around it.

"A…" Brenda felt breathless at the sight of Sharon undressing before her.

"A swim, Brenda Leigh." Sharon snapped, undoing the clasp on her jeans.

"Yes," Brenda nodded, standing up from her spot at the counter. She slipped out of her wedges and pulled her cotton dress over her head. Staring over at Sharon, she realized they were both in their underwear and bras. Sharon slid a hand beneath the clasp of her bra and in several seconds she was topless.

"Outside," Sharon nodded, walking to the sliding door which led to her perfectly kept patio. Flowers of all varieties littered the walk way. Brenda had seen them before, but she had never noticed how beautiful they were until that moment.

Brenda slid out of her bra and tossed it on a patio chair, watching as Sharon slipped out of her underwear before stepping in to the pool, causing a ripple to cascade outward. Brenda was transfixed by Sharon's naked body as she walked shamelessly in to the pool, allowing the water to surround her. She closed her eyes and let her head fall backwards, hair dampening before swirling around her serene visage. Her eyes were closed, shielding them from the sun, and her lips were tightly pressed together to keep the water out. But she looked beautiful splayed out before Brenda in the crystal blue water.

"Aren't you going to join me?" Sharon called out, her body moving forward, her eyes opening to take in the sight of Brenda, equally naked, standing on the edge of the pool.

Brenda just nodded and stepped in to the pool. She dove forward, enjoying the feel of water surrounding her naked body. She swam across the pool until she could no longer breathe and then came up for a breath of air. "What are we doin'?"

"Swimming." Was Sharon's simple response. She smoothly breast-stroked towards the blonde, an unreadable smile on her lips.

"What?" Brenda found herself treading backwards, until she ran against the wall of the pool. Sharon simply swam towards her until they were inches apart.

"I think," Sharon came to a stop and let her lower half sink to the bottom so that she could stand. "I think that if you're serious about this, I think, I'd like to try again."

Brenda let a confused smile grace her features. "And you had to get me wet and naked to tell me that?"

"I had to think about it," Sharon shrugged, pushing her arms back and forth in the water, watching as it created little ripples. "So, are you?" Green eyes captured brown.

"Am I, what?" Brenda frowned.

"Serious about this, us." Sharon kept her gaze intently on Brenda.

Brenda nodded. But instead of verbally answering, she reached out and pulled Sharon to her, her lips capturing Sharon's. Her tongue begged for entrance, disregarding the smoky flavor of the older woman's mouth. Instead she savored the much missed contact, the way that Sharon's smooth, soft lips felt against her own. The way her upper lip was devoid of stubble, how soft her skin felt, especially underwater. Sharon was pressed closely to her; her hands had come to rest on the edge of the pool on either side of Brenda's head. She let one leg tangle between Brenda's and she could feel, even though they were underwater, that the blonde was wet.

"I really think I could love you, so don't fuck with me, please." Sharon whispered against Brenda's ear.

"I won't." Brenda panted.