7x8 Death Warrant
Brenda's thoughts started to race as she tried to figure out what to do. Will had ordered her to hand over the case to DDA Hobbs, but if Major Crimes didn't intervene, somebody was going to die. Then it hit her – how many times had she had to endure the captain lording FID's federal mandate over her head to get priority on a case? Hadn't she said that even Will couldn't shut her down? It was worth a shot.
"Captain Raydor."
She turned to the captain, who was standing next to Fritz. It made it dirty somehow, that they would be standing by each other. She couldn't remember the last time the captain's face didn't invade her thoughts when she and her husband made love. Unbeknownst to her, the captain had become Brenda's silent mistress.
"Chief Johnson."
"I have a complaint."
"When have you not?" The captain was clearly holding back an eye roll, but the captain's bursts of frustration were no longer irritating or infuriating. Somewhere along the way, they had become adorable. Sometimes Brenda pushed the captain's buttons just to get a glimpse of her truer self, which would slip through the cracks of the Raydor armor if Brenda played her cards right.
"In our interview with …"
As Brenda explained the situation, she could see dawning realization of her unspoken request forming on the captain's face. She nodded her head, and Andy, entirely unable to understand the women's finagling of the system, tried to shoot down the excessive use of force complaint.
"Lieutenant Flynn," Captain Raydor interrupted as she looked at the photo of Mr. Diamond. "This bruise underneath his eye and the cut on his forehead indicate a possible categorical use of force by the LAPD." Brenda bit down a smirk as she threw a knowing look at Flynn.
That was another thing, wasn't it? She could speak between the lines and the captain knew. They had learned to read each other, and to communicate through words unsaid. In the last few months, the captain had become her lighthouse in the storm, and she didn't know how to look away anymore. Her marriage had dissolved into the battering waves, wearing her down, and Sharon had become her lifeline. What was she to do?
…
7x17 Fool's Gold
Sharon let out a long sigh as she closed the folder in front of her, firmly rubbing her temples with her fingers. This investigation was turning into a much bigger headache than she had initially anticipated. Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza, in their own blundering ways, had somehow made a break in a case while making it so much more complicated.
She reached for the bottle of hand sanitizer. She had scrubbed her hands clean, but somehow, she just couldn't get rid of the feeling of digging through Frank's poop to get to the glove. Her nose scrunched as she remembered the smell, but then chuckled lightly laugh as she remembered the look on Chief Johnson's face. The blonde deputy chief had been blessedly cooperative throughout the entire investigation. Maybe it was because she knew without a doubt that her division had mucked up. Or maybe it was because they had just started working better together.
She reached for her bag, ready to pack up for the night, when she heard two quick knocks on her door, and then a squeak as it was pushed open.
"Captain Raydor." That drawl was recognizable anywhere. Sharon pressed her lips together to hide her smile as she set her purse in her lap. The chief was long overdue for a visit to her office.
"Chief Johnson."
During the last couple of months, ever since the incident with the beanbag gun, Brenda had started finding excuses to show up at Sharon's office. First it was to bring up a report that was three weeks late, something that could have been taken care of via interoffice mail. She had set the file on Sharon's desk, awkwardly looked around, and then ran away as quickly as she had appeared. Then a week later, she came to ask about FID policy regarding officer conduct, this time going so far as to sit down for a few minutes. Then three days later, she had brought coffee and had complained about Will Pope for about twenty minutes. Now, she was up at least once every day if she wasn't working around the clock on a case. And each conversation started with,
"I have a complaint."
Sharon lifted her bag from her lap and dropped it back on the floor, silently letting Brenda know that she was ready to spend some time together. This was all they allowed themselves. They had never discussed the rules. We don't meet outside of work. We don't openly talk about our feelings for each other. We refuse to partake in infidelity. But here, in Sharon's office, we can spend time together. And if this was all Sharon could have of Brenda, she was willing to take it. Those small sessions had somehow brightened her life and become small havens in which she could relax and allow herself to actually feel her feelings towards Brenda.
"When have you not?" Sharon's voice was ringing playfully as she spoke, gesturing Brenda to sit across from her.
"Will is such a jerk!" Brenda exclaimed, reaching into her pocket for a Hershey's kiss. "And I swear to god, I could just shoot Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza."
"Well, let's not go there," Sharon replied, her smile reaching her eyes. "I would really rather not investigate you again."
…
Brenda had wanted to go quietly; she thought it was the last thing she could do for her division. But they had insisted on a party. "You have to let us at least buy you dinner, chief. For all you've done for us." She had never seen it that way, that she had done some service to the members of her squad. But they had insisted that they had received just as much from Brenda as they had given her.
And now, she was standing out on the restaurant terrace, overlooking the beach. The rest of the team, and some other staff from the LAPD who had also wished to send her off, were inside, drinking and enjoying the night. She closed her eyes as a breeze swept by her, rustling her skirt. She was going to miss working for the LAPD, but there was also a sense of freedom that came with her resignation. She had been a lovesick puppy, pining after one brunette captain for a while now, pining but knowing that she couldn't have her. Maybe not having to see her everyday, difficult as it may be in the beginning, would be good for her.
She lifted her wineglass, taking a long drink, when suddenly the noise inside amplified, pouring out through the terrace doors that had been opened. Probably Fritz, she thought, looking for her. But as the figure came into view, Brenda drew in a sharp breath. This figure was slim, but all feminine curves, long brunette waves falling over her shoulder.
"Hiding from your own party, chief?" The captain drew herself up next to Brenda, her hands coming up to rest on the railing in front of them.
"Needed some air." They stood quietly as they stared off into the ocean, the white spray of the ocean waves dancing on the edge of the beach.
"I'm sad to see you go, chief. You're going to be missed." Brenda turned her head to look at the captain, studying her profile as the captain kept her gaze locked on the beach. She knew that Sharon had actually meant, "I'm going to miss you."
Sharon wasn't going to ask her to say. They both knew her time at the LAPD had come to an end. But she was going to miss her. And in that moment, Brenda felt her stomach drop as the reality of leaving Sharon behind finally hit her. She wasn't going to be able to steal away to sit in Sharon's office everyday day, complaining about the weather, laughing about Will's blundering, or just quietly coexisting as they worked. Brenda had been doing that recently, bringing up her paperwork and powering through them at Sharon's conference table. "I'm just more productive when I'm here," she had explained lamely.
She wasn't going to be able to do that everyday, and as that reality hit her, she felt the words leave her mouth.
"Captain Raydor." Even as her stomach twisted in knots, her tone was playful. Brenda saw Sharon's mouth curl into a smile as she responded.
"Chief Johnson."
"I have a complaint." Sharon then turned, facing Brenda, her neatly combed hair dancing as the wind gently swirled around them.
"When have you not?" This was when Brenda was supposed to laugh and spit out a silly excuse for a complaint before starting a conversation. But she had no words left. She had no excuses left. Instead, she crashed her lips against Sharon's as her free hand weaved itself into Sharon's hair, tugging lightly, and she heard herself whimper when Sharon kissed her back, just as furiously, her hands gripping Brenda's hips. How many weeks, months, had she sat across from Sharon, imagining the delicious way her lips would feel against hers, trying not to blush as her mind raced with all of the things she wanted to do to the captain on her desk?
Then she felt Sharon press her weight into Brenda's as she kissed her even harder; Brenda stumbled backwards, squealing and pulling Sharon with her. She felt the wine spill all over her hand, but she didn't care. They were kissing, and Brenda felt her body pulse as though a current of electricity fired through every cell in her body. Finally, they broke, both gasping for air, hot breath blowing against each other as their foreheads rested together.
When their breaths started to slow, Sharon pulled back as she studied Brenda. "That was your complaint?"
"No. I've been wantin' to do that forever," Brenda said, reaching for Sharon's hand and twining their fingers. "My complaint is that I can't do it all the time." She repeated the phrase, saying what she needed to say with the fewest amount of words. I wish I could have you Sharon. I wish I wasn't married. I wish things had been different.
"Me too," was all Sharon said as she brought their joined hands up to her lips, gently kissing the top of Brenda's hand. "Me too," she said again, and she brought her face to Brenda's, pressing her lips to the blonde's cheeks. She pulled her in for a hug, and Brenda felt the captain's body expand as she drew in a deep breath, as though she were trying to memorize her scent.
"Goodbye Brenda," she finally said as she pulled away, and with one last squeeze to her hand, she let go and headed back inside, disappearing through the terrace doors.
"Bye Sharon," Brenda said to herself, turning back to face the ocean. She was only going across the street, but it felt like she had just written the final chapter of their book.
…
It had been a rough year full of complicated transitions – transferring to Major Crimes, taking in Rusty, earning the trust of all parties, but Sharon had somehow managed to get through it all with aplomb. Even at the beginning, with a team that didn't trust her and a teenage boy who constantly lashed out, it had been easier than being in IA.
After a few months, things had finally started to settle down. Knock on wood she thought to herself as she filled out reports. Rusty was adjusting well. He was complaining about having to do homework and laundry, typical teenage complaints that would annoy any parent but actually made Sharon smile. Rusty complaining about typical teenage things meant that he was starting to feel comfortable enough to let himself be a teenager.
Her phone vibrated quickly, and Sharon set down her pen as she reached for her phone. It was a slow week for Major Crimes, so everyone was either working on paperwork or helping out other divisions. It was probably Rusty, asking about dinner plans. But when she pressed the phone button, the lock screen read "New message from Chief Johnson."
Sharon brought her hand up to her mouth in surprise. They hadn't had any real conversations since that kiss on the terrace. There were occasional text messages. Hope you've been well. Hope you're liking your new job. I heard you took in Rusty – thank you Sharon. But it was never more than one or two perfunctory messages each way. She swiped her phone right, and opened up the messages. The last message from Brenda had been almost three months ago. Brenda had sent out a Merry Christmas. I miss you! Sharon had been so busy with a case and with Rusty that she had forgotten to respond, and when she had finally remembered, too much time had passed. She supposed letting their connection die a quiet death would be mercy for them both.
But as she read Brenda's new message, she was torn between amused and angry.
Captain Raydor.
That was all it read. Was Brenda trying to flirt…via text? The only times she addressed her using her rank, and using only those words, was when she had some flirtatious scheme up her sleeve. And why, after all this time, was she trying to reopen those wounds? Wasn't it better to just leave well enough alone?
Sharon sighed, her fingers betraying her mind as they typed out a response.
Chief investigator Johnson. She pressed send before reason could stop her, and before logic could convince her she was going down a dangerous path, her phone vibrated again.
I have a complaint.
This was a terrible idea. When Brenda had left the LAPD, Sharon had taken that as the sign she was waiting for. They had been flirting for months, dancing around feelings, trying to convince each other that the quiet moments they had been sharing in her office were not the catalyst in turning admiration and lust into love. Sharon had fallen in love with Brenda. But she had refused to be party to Brenda cheating on her husband, and it seemed Brenda felt the same way, especially when she left the LAPD, putting the final and necessary distance between them.
Maybe Brenda had moved on. Maybe the feelings had been more intense on Sharon's part, and Brenda was just bored. Either way, Sharon wanted to know what Brenda was going to say. And what is behind mystery door number 3? Probably nothing more than further heartbreak and trouble, but Sharon had to know.
Some things never change, do they? ;-) When have you not a complaint, Chief Johnson?
Sharon let out a long sigh before dropping her phone on her desk. She felt a wave of guilt hit her as she recognized her own hypocrisy. When Rusty's mother had failed to show up at the bus stop, she had told him that maybe it's easier to let go. "Holding onto someone when they're gone is even harder," she had said. She had been offering advice to Rusty, but she had really been speaking to herself.
Her phone vibrated again, and she picked it up, letting the weight of it sit in her hand as she prepared herself. She really was a masochist, allowing herself the small tiny pleasures of interacting with Brenda for the world of pain that came with knowing she couldn't really have her.
My divorce has been finalized for almost two months now, yet we have been on 0 dates. I think this is very complaint worthy.
Sharon blinked as she reread the message, wondering if she had misread the text. So Brenda was divorced? Agent Howard had not mentioned it, neither had any of the DDAs. Maybe the DA's office was better at keeping inter office gossip to a minimum. Was Brenda finally trying to confess something? Then Sharon felt a flare of irritation, all the while recognizing the logical fallacy of being irritated for getting the very thing she wanted. But Brenda's presumptuous behavior was irritating and cowardly. And she absolutely refused to talk about this via text.
She hit dial, and the Chief answered on the second ring.
"Sharon?" Her voice was timid, as though she were a child preparing herself to be chastised, signaling to Sharon that Brenda knew how ridiculous her behavior was.
"Chief Johnson," Sharon said, her voice much sterner than she had intended, and she immediately felt a pang of regret. She softened her tone before continuing.
"What did you mean by your last message?" Sharon heard Brenda let out a sigh.
"I…I thought it was obvious." And Sharon rolled her eyes, the trademark eye roll that was most often reserved for the once deputy chief.
"I didn't even know you were divorced."
"Oh." Sharon could practically hear the blonde chewing on her lip as she took in a breath. "I thought maybe Fritzi would have mentioned it."
"No. Agent Howard hasn't mentioned you at all."
"I see." There was more silence, and Sharon didn't know if she should try and quell the awkwardness, but she was at a loss for words. Brenda had still not offered an explanation, and she was determined to get one.
"Well I've been divorced. And I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. I think about you all the time. And I figured I should at least try and ask you out on a date, since I'm a free woman and all."
"And you thought asking me through a text message was a good idea?"
"I know, I know," she implored, pleading in her voice. "It was stupid and cowardly. But I figured you already knew about the divorce, and you hadn't responded to my last message around Christmas, and I didn't know if you still felt the same way about me, and I knew I had to at least ask because I really haven't been able to stop thinkin' about you, but I didn't know if you felt the same way, and I thought maybe if you had moved on, at least being rejected by text would be easier to deal with…" And Brenda's voice finally deflated as her rambling came to an end.
Sharon just stared ahead, feeling shell-shocked. So Brenda was finally single, and ready to pursue her. This certainly couldn't be true. Life didn't work out so favorably for Sharon, at least not when it came to love.
"Look Sharon, I am really sorry. I shouldn't have done it like this, and I feel just awful-"
"Yes." Sharon responded, once again, letting herself react instinctively before the logical side of her brain could stop her.
"Huh?"
Sharon let out a laugh as she pictured Brenda sitting at her desk, a confused look on her face. She had seen that expression multiple times when Sharon would say something unexpected during their little sessions in her FID office.
"Yes. I will go on a date with you. I also haven't been able to stop thinking about you." It was a stupid move by Brenda, it was cowardly, it was presumptuous. But it was also exactly like the blonde, who suffered from a perpetual state of tunnel vision, and Sharon wasn't going to turn down an opportunity because she was too prideful to accept Brenda's ridiculous gesture.
"Oooooh Sharon! Oh my god, thank you!"
"Thank you for having the courage to ask, even if through a text message."
"Are you free Friday night?"
"Well, let me check with Rusty. If he has plans with friends, then sure. He is out of emergency care, but I don't want him to feel like I'm abandoning him."
"Yes, yes of course. I'm free all week and weekend, so whatever is easiest for you."
"Okay Brenda. I will let you know."
"Okay Sharon. See you soon!"
Sharon hung up, smiling at the excited buoyancy in Brenda's voice. She didn't realize how much she had missed hearing it. She quickly tapped out a message to Rusty, asking him about his weekend plans, unable to stop smiling as her excitement started to bubble up. Maybe, maybe just once, things would work out in Sharon's romantic life.
…
Sharon ran the dish under the water, scrubbing it clean before washing off the dish soap. She and Brenda had stayed in tonight, with Sharon cooking dinner as Brenda "helped." Now she was finishing the dishes and Brenda was wrapping up the leftovers. She transferred the dish to the drying rack and reached for a cup, dipping the sponge into the cup when she felt arms wrap around her waist from behind.
"Captain Raydor," Brenda said as she pressed a kiss to the side of Sharon's neck, and the brunette felt a shiver run down her spine. Brenda slowly ran her lips up her neck, raising goose bumps in their wake, before pulling Sharon's earlobe into her mouth, and Sharon groaned.
"Chief Johnson," Sharon responded, trying hard to finish washing the cup but having difficulty focusing when Brenda's tongue traced the shell of her ear.
It had been about two months since Brenda's not-so-thought-out text. They had treaded carefully, mindful of Rusty's reactions and making sure he didn't feel like he was being abandoned. He had been nervous at first, but it helped that he knew and liked Brenda. After a couple of dates, when Sharon had asked Rusty how he would feel about the two of them entering a serious relationship, he had been supportive, even excited, "She makes you happy Sharon. You've been smiling a lot more. And good for me too, you know. I get away with more," he had said while waggling his eyebrows at her.
Brenda's hands started wandering, a hand coming up to trace the underside of Sharon's breast, and the brunette let out a gasp as she felt the heat from Brenda's body searing against her back.
"I have a complaint," the blonde whispered, brushing Sharon's hair aside as her lips found the back of her neck. Sharon let out another groan. The dishes could wait. She shut off the water and reached for a hand towel, and felt Brenda's lips smirk against her neck when the water shut off.
"When have you not?" Sharon had meant to sound annoyed. That's usually how their game played out. Sharon would feign annoyance and Brenda would try to win her over, but she was far too distracted by Brenda's wandering hands and her searing kisses to manage more than a breathy whisper.
"You have on way too much clothing. I think something needs to be done about that." She pinched Sharon's nipple through her shirt and bra as she spoke, and the brunette felt a flush of wetness between her legs. She quickly turned in Brenda's arms, wrapping her own arms around the blonde's small frame before capturing her lips in a slow, burning kiss, a kiss that made Brenda's thighs clench as she drove her hips forward. Sharon pulled away, ghosting her lips against the blonde's jawline.
"Well, Chief Johnson," she said, her voice dark and thick with arousal. "I think you ought to do something about that," she continued as she placed open mouthed kisses down Brenda's neck, her hands slowly unzipping the blonde's jeans. At Sharon's words, the blonde growled and pulled the captain back up to her lips for searing kiss, and lowered her hands to Sharon's thighs, encouraging her to hop onto the counter. The brunette settled on the counter and wrapped her legs around the blonde's waist, pulling her in as Brenda's hand clutched at her thighs, their lips connecting in another heated kiss.
As Brenda's tongue tangled with Sharon's, her hand found its way into the brunette's shirt, palming a breast, and Sharon groaned again. Nobody had ever gotten her so aroused so quickly. She arched into the touch, and Brenda brought her other hand to the brunette's back, hand fumbling with the bra clasp, when they heard the yell.
"JESUS CHRIST GUYS!" They jumped apart at Rusty's voice, Sharon hopping off the counter as Brenda turned around to pull up the zipper on her jeans.
"Oh gosh sorry Rusty, I'm so sorry. I thought you were going to be out until much later!"
"I was, but everyone was so tired from exam week that we all peaced out early." He was having trouble looking at either woman, and Sharon suddenly was worried that maybe they had crossed a line? Brenda had slept over many times, but they had always been very careful.
Sharon turned to Brenda with a concerned look, and the blonde just shrugged her shoulders and raised her eyebrows in quiet surrender. I don't know you talk to him!
"Rusty, really, I am sorry we should have talked to you about…"
"Oh my god Sharon calm down. I'm not a kid. What do you think I assume when Brenda sleeps over? That she sleeps on your bedroom floor in a sleeping bag?" He looked up, a wildly daring and boyish grin on his face.
"Really you're okay? We don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
"Good god, just go get laid," he said, heading for the couch. With his blessing, Brenda grabbed Sharon's hand and tugged her towards the bedroom. Rusty turned around to see Sharon disappearing down the hallway, being dragged along by Brenda, but not before she gave him a wave.
"Just put a tie on the door next time!" He shouted after them. He laughed as he imagined Sharon rolling her eyes at his comment. This is what normal kids must go through with their parents he thought as he turned on the TV. His friends had spent one of the hangouts talking about all of the horrifying times they had accidentally walked in on their parents getting busy. His own mother had never been particularly discreet, but she was also usually high. He had always been too concerned for her safety to care about much else. And while Rusty didn't really want to walk in on Sharon and Brenda making out again, he couldn't help but smile, allowing himself to feel, for the first time, that this was what having a normal parent was like, that Sharon was family and he belonged.
"I swear he gets it from you," Brenda said as she closed the door. Sharon turned around, hands on hips, scowling into tomorrow. Brenda doubled over in laughter at what she saw. The brunette was still clearly aroused, her hair a mess, her lipstick smeared, but her face was scrunched together in a disapproving look.
"Look at you right now. He is definitely his momma's boy," Brenda said again. And Sharon felt her heart swell at Brenda's words. He really had become one of her own children, and Brenda had been so patient and accommodating.
She walked over to the blonde, pushing her against the door and kissing her hard. "You would take something insulting and turn it into a genuine compliment."
"And you love me for it," the blonde said before kissing the brunette back.
"Mhmm," was all Sharon sounded, refusing to stop the kiss. She really did love Brenda, and finally, things had worked out for Sharon Raydor in the love department.