A/N: So this is my first Closer story, an idea I've had for almost a year, revolving around Sharon (my favorite) and Brenda (my second favorite). There will be no romance between the two, this is purely a friendship fic. This story is dedicated to HepburnJunkie22, for basically helping me with my ideas, and constantly motivating me to write it. I of course do not own The Closer, I am merely a simple fan. Oh and this takes place sometime in season six, so the Terrel Baylor lawsuit hasn't happened yet.
Brenda
It seemed so strange to her, driving to a middle school at a time when most people were picking up their children, and it was even stranger to be going to a crime scene at said middle school. Major Crimes had received plenty of 'out there' cases, but this was the first that had ever occurred at an actual school. It was an interesting change of pace, to say the very least. She had gotten the call from Pope about fifteen minutes ago, saying there had been a shooting at Kemper Hill Middle School, one of the teachers had been killed, and that she and her squad needed to get there right away. As it had been an unusually slow day for Major Crimes, her squad seemed eager for something interesting to do on a tedious Friday afternoon.
Brenda could see the building from a mile away. Granted, it wasn't that hard to find. It was the only building around for blocks in all directions. She knew that meant it was either the perfect place to commit a murder or the dumbest. She parked her car at the curb, seeing the place blocked away by the bright yellow crime scene tape. Other squad cars were parked in various places, their red and blue lights flashing in every direction. The rest of her squad had also arrived on the scene and were ready to take action. Naturally, Detective Gabriel was at her side almost immediately, as ready to begin investigating as she was.
From what she could see, the building itself wasn't in the best shape. The red bricks that held it together were, fading to the point where they almost resembled an orange color. The wooden panelings on the windows were splintered and paint chipped. The sign in the front of the building, which should have read 'Kemper Hill Middle School' had lost several of its gold painted letters and now read 'K mpe ill Mi d e Sc ool'. She didn't know if it was just the Los Angeles heat, but there was still something about this building that still had a warm comforting feeling to it, despite its less than stellar condition. Of course, the second she entered the school, with the rusty hinges on the doors squeaking loudly, the warm comfortable feeling deteriorated drastically. It might have had to do with the interior being in worse shape than the exterior. The floors, which were possibly a distinctive color once, were now stained and scratched, and it was impossible to know it's color or even if it was tile or linoleum. There were no windows in the hallways, and only the dimly lit ceiling lights gave off any illumination. The paint on the walls, the bland grey paint, was currently peeling off, as if trying to escape the place's dreariness. As she walked farther up the near empty hallway, passing numerous worn out lockers, she saw pictures of students and teachers from past years, the earliest being from 1942, when it was apparently still a primary school. She heard Flynn snort from laughter behind her.
"Geez, Provenza, the place is almost as ancient as you!" And Provenza immediately offered a "Shut up, Flynn!" as a rebuttal.
She promptly stopped at what appeared to be the teacher's lounge, the door propped wide open, revealing the entire scene. The teacher's lounge (if it was even large enough to qualify as a lounge) seemed completely out of whack. Broken glass was scattered in all directions, what appeared to be blood and coffee trickled down the walls, the two cabinet drawers were pulled completely open, and of course there was the fact that there was in fact, a corpse sprawled across the floor that completed the 'what's wrong with this picture' riddle of the room. Her victim was a Caucasian male, approximately mid to late forties, with cropped salt and pepper hair, clean cut and shaven, wearing what appeared to be a grey Armani suit and fine leather shoes. He was lying on his back, revealing several gaping holes in the middle of his chest, all of which were oozing blood. Off to the side and engrossed in conversation were Assistant Chief William Pope and a man and girl Brenda had never seen before in her life. Like the victim, this man was older, probably late forties early fifties, with graying black hair, a beard to match, and thick round glasses that enhanced the size of his eyes. The girl seemed to have no relation to the man whatsoever, a conclusion Brenda came to not only by lack of physical resemblance, but the fact that their body language seemed to show that they were not close in any way. The girl had long wavy brown hair with a few streaks of blue and pink in the mix, blue-grey eyes and intense facial features that made her appear slightly familiar. She did not appear to be as involved in the conversation as Pope and the older man, and judging by the dismal expression on her face, she really did not want to be there. Understandable, Brenda thought to herself, after a teacher just died.
"Chief Pope," She kept her voice calm and steady, "Care to explain what happened?"
"Of course," He turned around to face the man and the girl again. The man was looking at Brenda like she was a mutant from another planet, though granted, he was already as nervous as could be, and the girl remained still, looking eerily calm; a look that was frighteningly familiar but impossible to place. Pope gave them a reassuring nod that seemed to tell them, 'it's okay, she's one of us.'
"Brenda, this is Kenneth Duncan, he's the principal of Kemper Hill. And this is . . ." He turned to the mystery girl, and she cut him off before she could introduce her.
"Piper." Her voice was curt, not quite snippy, but very to-the-point; also strangely familiar.
"Right. She's one of our potential witnesses." With that, he focused his attention on the corpse, "Our victim is Matthew Shaw, who earlier today, was staying late and stopped here," He motioned around the teacher's lounge, "For what we're going to assume for now, coffee. About an hour ago, Piper here noticed a mysterious looking male enter the building. Five minutes after that, Ken and Piper heard shots being fired, and Ken found Shaw dead on the floor." Brenda nodded, absorbing the information carefully, trying to listen to what he did say, and possibly what he didn't say. She was soon giving jobs to each member of her squad, Tao to take DNA samples from the blood on the walls, Sanchez to collect any other potential evidence, Buzz to document the scene, and Flynn and Provenza to interview this Kenneth Duncan. She purposefully had her two senior Lieutenants take the principal, so she and Detective Gabriel could interview Piper, the mysterious girl. There was just something about her that was eating at Brenda to the point of frustration.
"Um, Piper, if you'll just follow Detective Gabriel here please?" Piper stood up, slinging a navy blue backpack across her shoulders, and did as she was told. "Thank you so much."
! #$%^&*!
"So . . . .Piper," Brenda began as she slipped into the backseat with the girl. Gabriel agreed to drive so Brenda could properly conduct the interview. "I'm going to ask you just a few questions about what you saw and heard on our way to the station, and you're going to try to answer them as best you can. Can you do that?" She maintained a kind gentle tone in her voice, as to try and make the girl feel comfortable, but Piper's face was still practically emotionless and pretty much impossible to read, something that was about to drive Brenda insane. Piper nodded slowly, pulling a few strands of brown hair behind her ear.
"Well . . . . Chief Johnson," There was something about the way she said 'Chief' was startled Brenda. "At about, maybe four o'clock this afternoon, I was in Mr. Shaw's classroom, working on some work for his class."
"Why?" Brenda inquired, more out of curiosity than anything. "Were you falling behind in his class?"
"No," Piper shook her head, "We're working on research projects in his class and some of us need extra time after school to work."
"And what does Mr. Shaw teach exactly?"
"History." For the first time Piper smiled slightly, "We're learning about Ancient Greece right now. The project is on mythology." She took a deep breath and continued on, "And, abound ten minutes later, Mr. Shaw left the room to go to the teacher's lounge."
"For coffee?" Brenda pressed. Piper shrugged.
"I have no idea. He just . . . told not to touch anything and just ran out of the room. And then after he left, I saw . . . I saw someone come in from the doors outside of Mr. Shaw's room. The doors that lead outside."
"Could you see if the person was male of female?" Another head shake.
"No. Whoever it was had on a black hoodie and they were running so fast, I couldn't get a clear look at them anyway."
"He was . . . .running?"
"Yes." There was a long pause as Brenda processed the current information.
"What happened after that?"
"Um . . . a few minutes later there was some shouting and then I heard gunshots and then . . ." She took a moment to compose herself, "And I think whoever it was came running back out the doors because I heard running and a door slam."
"And, he didn't see you?"
"I hid under my desk when I heard the shots."
"Now, you say you heard gunshots. How many did you hear?" Piper shrugged again.
"I dunno maybe four or five. I know there were at least three." Brenda tried to put a comforting hand Piper's shoulder, something the girl seemed to be taken aback by.
"Alright, now I just have one more question. What happened after you heard the door slam?"
"Uh . . . Mr. Duncan came running into the room asking if I was alright and then I asked if I could use his phone to call my mom but he said – crap! I forgot to call my mom." She clapped her hand over her mouth as her eyes widened. "I completely forgot to call my mom! Duncan said we had to call the police first, and my phone's dead so she still doesn't know!" Her face visibly paled and Brenda saw her hands begin to shake.
"Hey, it's okay, it's okay." She soothed while trying to calm Piper down. "We can call her from the station. Is she at work?"
"Um . . . . I don't think she's in today. She'd normally be at the station. She works there too."
"She does?" Brenda asked, genuinely interested.
"Yes. She works for the FID." At this, Brenda paled. She only knew one person from FID and . . . no. There was no way.
"Really?" She tried to keep the nervousness out of her voice. "I . . . just realized, I didn't ask you your last name. We . . . need it for our report." She admitted to herself that it would have been better to just ask who the girl's mother was, but she knew there was a likely chance she'd say her last name was 'Benning' or 'Harmon', or another one of those names she heard worked for FID before. She was practically praying to herself that this girl wouldn't say . . . that. Of course, the next words were like a punch in the stomach. Like a punishment for everything she had ever done wrong.
"It's Raydor. Piper Raydor."
Sharon
It felt nice, Sharon thought to herself as she placed two plastic bags full of groceries into the trunk of her car, to not spend a day on one of her cases. No murders, no reports, just grocery shopping with Karen was enough to qualify as a perfect. If she could, she'd take personal days more often. As she reached for the bag with a two-liter bottle of Cola and loaf of bread, she felt Karen tugging anxiously at her sleeve.
"Can I help, Gramma?" The little girl asked. Sharon couldn't help but smile. Lately, Karen wanted to be involved with just about everything those around her did. Today at the grocery store, for instance, she insisted on not riding in the cart, but actually walking alongside Sharon and helping her get what they needed. She couldn't help but observe how Josh did the exact same thing at Karen's age.
"Sure, Kare," She picked up the lightest bag in the cart, one with carrot sticks and celery, and handed it to Karen to put in the trunk. Her granddaughter's green eyes widened with excitement and she quickly set the bag safely in the car. This was another reason Sharon enjoyed her personal days so much. Instead of spending time around those, who in general, detested her presence, she could spend it with people who were actually glad to see her. She never grew tired of the way Karen always had the biggest smile whenever Sharon came into the room, and she never grew tired of the almost suffocating hugs that follow. For a six year old girl, she seemed to have enough energy to squeeze the breath out of anyone.
"Are we going to get Piper now?" Karen asked as she climbed into the back seat of the car and strapping herself in. Sharon nodded, pulling her keys out of her purse. It kind of annoyed her that they had to get Piper from school so late. The history teacher, Mr. Shaw, was one of the flakiest teachers she had ever met, and throughout her years of raising three children, she had met some real pieces of work. She didn't like the fact that Piper (and the other students, for that matter) each had a giant project to do, with not enough time to complete it during school hours and not being allowed to even take it home. But she kept quiet, a rarity of hers, because if her daughter was willing to be a sport about it, she was too. She decided to just focus on picking up her daughter, and then meeting Linus for dinner. She hadn't seen her oldest son in over four months.
She was just pulling out of the parking lot, listening to Karen reminisce about her game of tag at recess today when she heard a noise that almost always put a damper on her mood: the sound of her phone ringing. Karen immediately went silent, as she knew the phone-routine by heart. Grumbling profanities at such a volume that Karen could not overhear, Sharon pulled the car over the side of the curb, and pulled her phone out of her pocket.
"Raydor." She answered, not even bothering to hide the annoyance she felt.
"Sharon? It's Andy." She didn't really need the introduction, having recognized Lieutenant Flynn's voice almost immediately.
"What is it, Lieutenant?" She didn't care if Andy was on a first name basis with her; she made sure to refer to him by his rank. "In case you haven't heard, I'm not in my office today." She heard a slightly anxious sigh coming from the other end and she was suddenly curious as to what was going on.
"Lieutenant? What happened?" She said the words slowly, cautiously, worried as to what the answer would be. "Where are you calling from?"
"Kemper Hill." Was his reluctant response. Oh crap, Sharon cursed to herself, Piper's school. "There was a shooting about an hour ago, and –"
"What?" She didn't let him finish, her mind suddenly going crazy as to what could have happened, "Where's Piper? Is she okay, is she –" This time, he didn't let her finish.
"Piper's fine, Sharon. One of the teacher's was killed and she's a potential witness." There was a long pause, as if he was afraid to tell her the next part. "And Chief Johnson is taking her back to the station, so she can interview her." Sharon did not hear every last word in that last sentence. Her mind was clouded with the worry she had felt before turning into relief that Piper was okay. . . but she did hear the words, 'Chief Johnson is taking her back to the station'. And that was more than enough. She visibly tensed, and from the rearview mirror, she could see Karen tense up too.
"You mean to tell me," She began, her voice cold and hard, "That you allowed my daughter to get into a car alone with her?" Her face grew hot with anger, and she was gripping her cell phone so tight that it was in peril of shattering to pieces. She knew how Brenda was with witnesses, and God only knows what she'd do to a witness that just happened to share the same DNA as her enemy.
"In all fairness Captain," Flynn was now to a point where he was scared enough to refer to her by her rank. Smart move, she decided, "The Chief didn't actually know that Piper was your kid when they left." Thank you, Flynn, she thought to herself grimly, that's very helpful. There was plenty she could have said about the matter, along with a few choice words she could have given Flynn. Thankfully, she remembered that her six year old granddaughter was in fact, still in the backseat, listening to every word Sharon said. Not wanting to say something she'd end up regretting later, she ended the conversation with a blunt,
"I'll be there as soon as I can." She hung up the phone and shoved it back into her pocked with a frustrated sigh.
"Gramma, is Piper okay?" Karen asked. She wasn't crying; it had been years since she'd actually cried, but she did look concerned. She was bright for a six year old, and she knew when something was amiss.
"Piper's fine Kare," Sharon remembered to speak more gently now, "We just have to make a quick stop at the Police Station, okay?"
"Will they be nice to us?" This was another thing about Karen: she was not oblivious as to how hostile people seemed to be towards Sharon and FID.
"No promises, baby girl." Sharon answered in all honesty.
Piper
The remainder of the drive to the Station was in a sort of awkward silence. Chief Johnson seemed to be torn between staring at Piper like she was some sort of alien to not even looking at her at all. Piper decided to just read her book and hide her mild amusement about the entire situation. She knew exactly who Chief Johnson was, despite the fact that they had never met before. She had heard her mother's many stories about the woman, and about how she was always a little less than welcoming. It was pretty easy to recognize the Chief simply by her strong southern accent, that her mother often imitated in such a way that in bordered on cruel. It wasn't the fact that she knew who Chief Johnson was that made everything funny; it was the fact that the blonde haired Deputy Chief did not know who Piper was. The last twenty minutes were just spent with the chief trying to play the 'nice-game' with Piper. This was a trick Piper knew by heart, as her mother had taught her to use it whenever she wanted to obtain information on anyone. On someone inexperienced, it was foolproof, but on an expert, it was easy to see through.
She almost didn't hear Chief Johnson's curt 'we're here' when they pulled into the station. She looked up from her book, peered out the window, and jumped when she saw her mother's SUV parked next to Chief Johnson's car. Of course she had known her mother would be informed of the situation at hand. . . she just hoped it wouldn't have been this quick. It was already going to be awkward as it was, but she wasn't sure if she was prepared to see her mother go at it with the Chief. Of course, she had never actually seen the two interact, but the horror stories she had heard in the past were more than enough.
She took several heaving breaths, trying to calm herself down as she cautiously opened the door and slid out of the car. She tried to walk with an air of dignity behind Chief Johnson and the dark skinned detective, whom she had heard was called 'Gabriel', though she was pretty sure she was failing miserably at it. They walked in the same sort of awkward silence that had been present on the ride over; well, Piper was silent and the Chief and Gabriel were conversing at a volume so low Piper couldn't catch a word. When they reached what Piper assumed was the Major Crimes office, the first people that could be seen were her anxious looking mother, and a confused Karen sitting on her lap.
She instinctively shrunk behind Gabriel, preparing herself for whatever was about to go down.
"Oh god, Piper," Her mother said frantically, setting Karen on her feet and rushing over to pull Piper into a protective hug. Chief Johnson and Gabriel awkwardly stepped out of the way. Her mother pulled away and stared directly at Piper. "Are you alright?" Unable to speak clearly or audibly, Piper only nodded, her eyes darting nervously around the room. As it was, she had rarely ever seen the FID workplace, as her mother didn't feel comfortable letting her daughter or granddaughter hang around in such an environment (something Piper would easily comply with), and as a result, she had never seen the office of Major Crimes. From what she could see, it was similar, yet very different to the environment of FID. This particular place had a more of a grim feel to it than FID, especially when one detective was currently posting photos of Mr. Shaw's dead body on the whiteboard in the back of the room. It did, however have the same sort of strange sort of comfort as FID, where she could tell that the people working in the department had a strong dynamic and they knew what the hell they were doing.
Her mother gave Piper another once-over and as soon as she seemed content that her daughter was fine and in one piece, she focused her gaze on Chief Johnson.
"Captain," Chief Johnson began cautiously, looking as though she were debating whether to step forward or step back. She seemed to decide on forward, though she proceeded with plenty of caution. "Captain if you'd let me explai-"
"Please save it, Chief," Her mother practically growled, nudging Piper behind her. "My daughter. . .she isn't a suspect is she?" Her tone was so low and dangerous, that it shook even Piper, who was usually immune. She was about to answer, but Chief Johnson beat her to it.
"No, of course not, Captain. She's a potential witness our investigation and we already interviewed her on the way over here." Piper noticed the Chief's eyes occasionally glance nervously behind her and her mother's shoulder, and with each sentence, she seemed to get tenser. "And all we need is her official statement about what happened and then we can release-I'm sorry, but why does she keep staring at me?" Piper turned around to see Karen, standing in the same spot she had been set down. She was remaining motionless, her bright green eyes focusing directly on the Chief, with one of her thumbs resting firmly in her mouth.
"Oh that's just Karen," Piper explained, stepping back from her mother's grip on her hand. She scooped Karen up in her arms as best she could, and the little girl wrapped her arms tightly around Piper's neck and not taking her eyes off the Chief. "It's okay, Karebear." Piper whispered soothingly Karen, knowing she'd receive no response. When it came to being in public places, Karen always remained silent, too afraid to speak to anybody. Piper looked back over at her mother, whose demeanor seemed to completely change. A minute before, she had been so tense her spine was literally stiff, and now Piper could see her entire body relax, and she could hear her mother's long weary sigh.
"Alright," Her mother said softly, running her fingers through her hair. "Take my daughter's statement. Just. . . please don't take too long. We'd like to leave pretty soon." Gabriel and the Chief seemed visibly surprised, and she could have sworn she heard Gabriel mutter "Did she just say please?" Piper's mother turned her head and nodded as if to say 'go with them; it's okay'. Piper reluctantly set down Karen and backed away with the Chief, not taking her eyes away from her mother, who was currently swooping and taking Karen into her arms, the entire time.
Piper spent the next ten minutes in one of the most awkward environment she had ever been in. She gave Chief Johnson her statement, which was just a condensed version of everything she went over earlier, and the entire time she could practically feel the Chief's eyes boring into her. While she had found it amusing a while ago, now it was just creeping Piper out, and she was eager to get out of there as soon as possible.
"Okay. . . thank you, Piper." The Chief finally said hastily, and Piper did not hesitate to stand up. "I think we have your . . . mother's contact information with us, and we'll be sure to call if we need to know anything else."
"That's great," Piper responded, trying to keep any sarcasm out of her voice. She made her way towards the door, and tried to flash a pleasant smile. "You have a good day, Chief." She noticed the Chief flinch at her words, and decided it best to just leave. She immediately made a beeline for her mother, who adjusted her hold on Karen so she could wrap an arm around Piper's shoulder. Gabriel handed Piper her backpack that had been retrieved from the squad car, and with an exception of a small nod and an almost inaudible 'thank you' the girl made a point not to look back as she and her mother left for their car.
When her mother set Karen to the ground opening the door to the backseat, the younger girl hugged Piper around the waist.
"I'm sorry, Piper." She said softly looking up at her aunt. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine Kare," Piper said to the surprisingly articulate six-year old. "Don't worry about it." Karen just nodded and allowed Piper to lift her into the backseat. Piper closed the door for her and proceeded to slip into the passenger seat. After strapping herself in, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her iPod, knowing that music would help calm her nerves. She selected the album to Chicago, her all time favorite musical, inserted her ear-buds and closed her eyes trying to relax her mind. Though it didn't feel like it through the blur of the music, but there was silence in the car for a significant period of time. It was in the middle of 'Cell Block Tango', that Piper felt her mother's hand tap her shoulder; a signal that she wanted to talk. She pulled one ear-bud out allowing one ear to continue listening to music, and the other to focus on whatever her mother had to say.
"I'm thinking that since we're all probably too tired to go out to eat, that we could just tell Linus to come to the house and order a pizza or something." Piper prepared to protest, not wanting to ruin any of the dinner plans they had been planning for a week, but she didn't have it in her. Her mother pretty much called it; she was too tired after the day she had.
"Okay," She answered, nervously examining her painted nails. Despite the fact that her mother was focusing on the road in front of her, she could almost feel her mother's intense gaze on her, probably trying to read everything that was going on with her.
"Pipe," Her mother said gently, making a right turn signal. "Are you . . .are you okay. . . with everything that happened?" Piper hesitated with her answer, stealing a glance at the rearview mirror to see Karen in the back. She honestly had no idea what she was feeling. It most certainly wasn't fantastic or even just good . . . but surprisingly enough, she didn't feel bad either. Not terrible, anyway, and she didn't know how to explain why. Nonetheless, she wasn't going to say anything about it here. She didn't want to worry her niece, or her mother.
"I'm . . . fine, Mom." She finally said, offering up a meek smile. Of course, her mother being the ever observant person that she was didn't seem to buy it.
"Are you sure, honey? Because you can talk about it if you'd like." Talking about it; nothing sounded better to Piper at the present moment. Maybe her mother could help her sort out what she felt about the situation. But in the end, she stuck to her grounds.
"I'm okay. Really." She knew that it was a blatant lie, and she was positive her mother knew it too. Her mother simply nodded, and as if to provide a small bit of consolation, grasped on of Piper's hands in her and squeezed it gently.
"If you say so, baby."
