Relativity of Wrong
Prologue:
And That Was That.
Their first meeting 'after' had been an awkward one.
Brenda had wondered what would transpire frequently and, figuring that they had been bad enough while they had been sleeping together, she thought that the fact that they weren't would make it all ten times worse.
Having not seen Sharon, that was how she referred to her now, at least in the privacy of her own thoughts, had helped. Almost three weeks had gone by, three weeks of irritability, of temper tantrums, angry outbursts (for no apparent reason), then the short but undeniably intense bout of depression and then Brenda had gotten up one day and had realized that she had had a nightmare.
In her nightmare she had mumbled the woman's name and she had woken up to Fritz's stern gaze.
"A shootin'," she had said sleepily. "I think Provenza shot her."
And that had been that.
When she had gotten on the elevator that same morning and had found none other than Sharon occupying it, Brenda hadn't hesitated. She had put a smile on her face, politely nodding in the woman's direction and had entered, pushing the button for her floor.
"Mornin'."
"Good morning, Chief Johnson."
Brenda had smirked at that. She had glanced over cautiously and, she had figured as much, Sharon had worn her barely there, superior little smirk.
"How have you been?"
Sharon had looked at her, surprised but pleasantly so. "I've been doing very well, thank you. How are you doing, Chief?"
"I'm doin' just fine, Cap'n Raydor, just fine."
"I'm glad to hear it."
They had both sighed in near perfect unison then the elevator doors had opened to Brenda's floor. The blonde had smiled another smile, a genuine one that time and exited. "See ya."
And that had been that.
It could've been worse.
"Teamwork!"
Brenda tilted her head. She didn't have to look. She knew that scent anywhere. Of course she'd be here.
Everyone was here.
The blonde squared her shoulders a bit, her muscles straining against the sturdy blue fabric of her uniform.
"Teamwork is essential amongst our divisions. It is the glue that holds us together."
Delk was throwing out grand words behind the podium, the mayor was smiling and Taylor was beaming like a lovesick teenager.
"But what we need is not only communication between our divisions, no, we need communication amongst all law enforcement agencies so we can conduct investigations, cover jurisdictions and share information seamlessly with our partners."
Did that even make sense?
Brenda sighed heavily, her lips forming a bored pout as she shifted from one booted foot to the other.
"This is why Assistant Director Faulkner has joined us today, as well as the official FBI/LAPD liaison, Special Agent Howard. To talk about how to improve our efforts in achieving this goal."
She saw Provenza roll his eyes, unimpressed with the whole shebang. "A whole lotta yackin' for such a little budget."
Brenda gave him a look, not that she meant it and chanced a glance to her right. Sure enough, there she stood, Sharon Raydor. She had the most neutral look on her face with a sprinkle of boredom, hands clasped behind her back; next to her stood Sergeant Elliott, squinting in an effort to look interested in the goings-on.
Oh, for heaven's sakes, Brenda thought, eyeing Fritz who was standing with a rather satisfied expression next to the Assistant Director.
At least he was having a good time.
"We're all thinking it, Chief."
Brenda glanced to her right, at Sharon who had inched closer unbeknownst to her and was whispering conspiringly under her breath.
"Thinkin' what?"
The brunette finally looked at her with an overly sad expression that seemed more comical than anything and said, "That if you hadn't messed it up, you'd be the one standing up there right now."
"How nice." Brenda crossed her arms. "I took the shot, somebody had to."
Sharon made a sound in the back of her throat, her eyes glued to the podium again. "Sometimes I really wish you hadn't."
The blonde mulled it over for a moment, shifting from one foot to the other once more, noting that their shoulders brushed briefly, then shrugged noncommittally. "Me too."
Their gazes met and for a moment they both couldn't help but smile at each other.
"I can't believe that you were handed not only one but two promotions on a silver platter."
Brenda's smile fell. "I have never met anyone as aggravatin' as yourself, Cap'n and you may take that as a compliment."
"Thank you, Chief."
"You're welcome." Brenda chewed her lower lip and chanced another glance at the woman, curiously eyeing the tight bun, the tiny frame in the blue uniform and the fine contours of her lips.
She still looked the same, smelled the same, sounded the same yet Brenda couldn't feel the usual warmth, that hot sensation in her belly anymore.
The blonde frowned.
"I would like all of you to join us at our usual watering hole, O'Malley's, for a drink later on."
Brenda heard Andy sigh from right behind her.
"I hope to see you all there," Delk finished, finally.
"Why do I feel like this is an order and not a friendly get together?" Flynn felt the need to argue. "I mean, c'mon, like half the LAPD doesn't have better things to do."
"You only want to go home to watch the Dodgers game," Provenza grumbled.
"What? You'd rather 'slum' it with Delk?"
"I admit, I'm not opposed to the idea of, say, a cold beer and some baseball but duty must always come first." He looked square at Sharon. "Must'n it, Captain?"
Brenda smirked as Sharon shifted from one foot to the other. "Maybe," she said carefully, "Bobby lets you turn on the TV until Chief Delk arrives..?"
"Good idea," Flynn said and threw an arm around another officer's shoulders. "Hey, Benny, we're watching the game at O'Malley's, you wanna put some money down? Provenza and I started a pool."
The blonde shook her head and trailed after the men towards the exit.
"Children..." Sharon commented quietly, a faint smirk on her features before she caught Sergeant Elliott's gaze and patted him on the shoulder. "Let's go, Sergeant. I don't want the worst seats in the place."