The Decline of a Feline
Sharon was on her hundredth walk through the Major Crimes division in the span of the day. The whole mess with Mr. Gabriel was an absolute headache and all she wanted to do was go home, curl up on the couch with a bottle of wine, and stop obsessing about what the division's blonde-haired tyrant had in store for her next.
She stopped at the Chief's office door, noticing the blinds were all closed. She isn't here? Sharon thought briefly, but she could hear movement inside. She put her ear to the door.
For a moment there was nothing, and then she caught the sound of loud, bitter sobs wafting through. Sharon pulled her head back abruptly. The Chief was in there, all right.
She fought with herself for a moment in the hallway. On one hand, she got a bitter bit of pleasure out hearing the blonde crying. She deserved it. She was reckless and foolish and a much worse influence on the department than Sharon had first thought.
On the other hand, she seemed a tough woman. And she was crying. And Sharon had the Catholic guilt complex of an Irish nun.
She sighed and against her better judgement, turned around, stepped back inside the lion's lair, and shut the cage door behind her.
"Chief, are you all right?" She said softly. She couldn't entirely shake the combative edge in her voice.
Brenda's eyes shot up in horror. Her mascara was dotted under her eyes, smudged and shining. Her eyes were red, and puffy. Her sobs had ceased as soon as the older woman had stepped into the room. Her small hands, clutched around a tissue, were lightly shaking. She dropped her eyes to her desk and her face went red.
"Captain I would very much like to be alone right now. If there's anythin' else you need from my division, I'm sure that," Brenda stopped herself short of suggesting Sergeant Gabriel could find whatever she needed. She was still trying to train herself out of the habit of relying on him. And now he was nearly losing his job because of this… this woman who was now apparently eavesdropping on her so she could better aim her inappropriately-timed intrusions.
She had been trying like hell to avoid this exact situation – of anyone at work finding her falling to pieces over Kitty. And of course it had to be Captain Thorn-In-Her-Backside that strolled in on the time she'd set aside to finally let it all out.
She levelled her eyes back at the brunette, no longer caring that she looked a complete mess.
"I'm sure someone else can get you whatever you require," Brenda nearly hissed.
"I don't need anything, Chief, thank you. I'm here because I wanted to offer an ear if you're upset."
Brenda's confidence fell. She lost the ability – temporarily and quite unusually – to speak. Sharon suppressed a smirk and continued.
"In my experience it's best to talk about whatever it is that's wrong, and though I'm positive I'm not the person you want to talk to, I am… here." Sharon didn't wait for an invitation to stay; she merely sat down stiffly into a chair. Maybe if the blonde wasn't emotionally compromised for whatever earthly reason, she would give Sharon a little more space to do her job. Or at least she might be less of an absolute pain-in-the-ass.
Brenda didn't really understand what was going on, but she did want to talk. Fritz wasn't answering his phone, which was surprising given the amount of times he'd called her throughout the week, berating her for her indecisiveness. His refusal to pick up was making her even angrier about the whole situation and keeping it all pent up wasn't doing her or her team any favours.
But did she really want to divulge any of that to Sharon Raydor? Brenda grimaced a little at the thought. But the woman had taken the time to come in here. Which in itself seemed out-of-character. Brenda pressed her lips together, considering the offer.
"My cat, he's," Brenda shook her head and sighed. "She's awful sick and she isn't," her eyes drifted lazily over her desk, seeking something out to centre her. Her eyes landed on a pen and stayed there. "She isn't doing so well. And Fritzy," Brenda visibly winced as the nickname slipped out. "My husband – he thinks we should put her down." There, summed up. That wasn't so painful. She boldly let her eyes rise back up to the brunette across from her.
She suddenly wanted to cry again. Instead she bit down on her tongue, giving her lips a little pursed expression. She waited for the inevitable backlash, the quick-witted, chastising response this woman no doubt had holstered and ready.
Instead the Captain did something entirely unexpected. She smiled, just slightly, the subtlest change in expression, but it was oddly enchanting. The smile was sad and simple, but warm too. Brenda gulped as she realized she was staring at the woman's mouth.
"And what did the veterinarian say?" Sharon asked.
"He said all we can do is make her comfortable. But I'm lookin' into a second opinion." Brenda said flippantly. "D'you have a cat?" Brenda tried to shift the conversation from herself. The truth was she didn't want to be part of this conversation anymore at all. Not when she wasn't in a good place to talk herself back out of it.
"No. But I had a couple of dogs growing up." Sharon said. She sensed Brenda wanted more, needed more to go on. "We had to put one of them down when I was 17 – his name was Frank," Sharon said with a slightly wider smile, as if the mere mention of the dog's name brought up a slow-moving film of her childhood pet. "He had a stroke and after that, he could barely walk. He got some of his strength back eventually, but he was in a lot of pain."
Brenda's eyes were still a little watery but she wasn't outright-crying anymore at least. She nodded lightly at the older woman.
"And what did you do?" Brenda asked, suddenly very interested in the story.
"Allow me to ask you a question first. Who are you keeping her alive for?" Sharon said carefully.
Brenda blinked as she tried to untangle the question. Her face scrunched into a frown.
"Wudya mean? Her! I'm keepin' her alive for her."
Sharon locked eyes with the blonde and said nothing, didn't move in her chair. She just raised her eyebrows, tilted her head ever-so-slightly, and waited.
Brenda stared right back at the foolish woman, suddenly feeling like lashing out again and reprimanding her for now being a menace in her personal life as well as the workplace. But something stopped her – her nagging little inner voice that sounded an awful lot like her mama.
Well now, that just ain't true, is it, Brenda Leigh? Answer the woman's question, and this time, be honest about it.
"Me," Brenda breathed. "I'm keepin' her alive for… me." Brenda swallowed the lump in her throat and tried not to unleash a fresh batch of brewing tears.
Sharon nodded slowly, finally letting her gaze drop from the Chief's eyes.
"Then you know what you have to do. They can't live forever and they can't be happy just because you keep holding on." She met Brenda's eyes again. They were dry, finally. The Chief's mouth was, remarkably, closed. So that's all it takes to shut her up, huh? Sharon thought dimly.
Brenda, for her part, was still trying to understand just what the hell was going on here. Fritzy hadn't been able to calm her down or make her come to grips with the situation since Kitty had fallen ill. Then this woman strolled in and within minutes had Brenda making major pet decisions and revelations and sopping up her self-pity faster than a roll of Bounty.
"Yes, I s'pose I do." Brenda said finally. "Thank you, Captain." She meant it. Genuinely. Maybe she had judged this woman too quickly. She couldn't see them being fast friends or anything, but Brenda knew that she'd been letting her personal feelings about pretty much everything get in the way of her better judgement lately. Perhaps that had doomed her opinion of the Captain from the start.
"No problem, Chief. I hope it all works out," Sharon said. She rose from her chair and went to leave.
"Oh, and Captain?" Brenda said before Sharon could make her escape. Sharon turned and raised an eyebrow.
"If you need anythin' else for your case, let me know. I know you're just doin' your job." Brenda said with a small smile. Sharon's jaw nearly dropped, but she hid her surprise.
"Thank you, Chief." She turned and left, closing the door behind her. Back in the safety of the hallway, Sharon smiled to herself. It seemed sometimes good deeds were rewarded.