A/N: An attempt at a Sharon Raydor/Madeline Morgan thingy.

Summary: It's one of those things where years can go by, contact to a minimum, and yet when you meet up it's as if no time has passed at all. Sharon/Madeline.

Almost

"You don't call, you don't write," Madeline Morgan threw out in greeting as she hovered in Sharon Raydor's office door opening. Madeline leaned her shoulder against the door post, the open door and open blinds inviting and the woman inside beckoning forth some kind of reunion.

The other woman looked up, a glint of mischief hidden behind her glasses. Madeline crossed her arms in a loose fashion as she regarded the woman behind the desk, a sly smile at the circumstances of life.

Sharon Raydor was an artist when it came to smiling; that was what always stood out in Madeline's recollection of the woman. After a decade Madeline was still fascinated by the variety of smiles on the Captain's face that could convey a vast range of emotions. This time the answering smile on Sharon's face looked to be an alloy of sorts, apologetic and yet engaging.

"I could say the same about you, Madeline," came the dulcet reply.

Madeline shook her head in wry amusement, "I'm not the one who has disappeared off the face of the earth."

Sharon pursed her lips, "I am exactly where I have always been."

"Oh, that is funny," Madeline delivered in a sarcastic tone, her smile still in place, "because that could not be farther from the truth."

That got her a lifted eyebrow.

Madeline continued, "Two years is a long time, I'll give you that Sharon, but to say nothing's changed, that's taking it a bit too far, hmm. You are most certainly not buried under the paperwork of the whole Internal Affairs division or complaining about the low moral standards on the force. You have in fact joined the dark side."

The comment brought a smirk out on Sharon's face, the feature familiar and warm in its own right.

"Dependent on view, some would say I have been rescued from the dark side."

"I see the hot-heads of homicide have already gotten to you."

"Oh, not in the slightest. I'm merely climbing a bit further up the ladder," the woman paused and then perfected what Madeline used to think of as a disarming smirk, "You should try it."

Madeline shook her head, "Ah, insults from the police. Always a delight."

Sharon simply shrugged, "I hate to disappoint you."

"Oh, you never do."

They shared a smile, one that seemed to display more familiarity than people would have guessed from merely observing it.

Sharon shrugged, apologetic again, "I am truly sorry, Madeline. I have been an awful friend - ,"

Madeline quickly interrupted her, "I know how it goes with a new job description."

Sharon nodded.

Madeline chuckled, "But oh boy, did I feel like a fool last month when I called Internal Affairs, expecting you on the line. To my surprise it was one of your horrid trolls who answered. Rude to his boots, that one."

"Knowing you, I'm certain you were rude first. Probably in what he would refer to as lawyer-language."

Madeline lifted her own eyebrow, contenting to receiving the exact twin from Sharon.

"I guess I should congratulate you, yes?" Madeline paused to shake her head, "even if it's a couple of years too late."

Sharon's smile turned a sheepish color at that.

"Why don't you come in, Counselor?" Sharon said, her pale slender fingers pushing aside papers on her desk. She tilted her head and Madeline knew that look all too well; conniving and endearing simultaneously.

Madeline shook her head, "Oh, I can't stay. Barry Lawrence is far from the only citizen who received a special visit from the LAPD today."

Sharon's lips pursed again, whether in pique or in acknowledgment was hard to garner. "Hmm," was the woman's only reply.

Madeline stood up straight, "Drinks, later?"

Sharon smiled in affirmation, incandescent and secretive. The nod was miniscule and hardly distinguishable but Madeline caught it.

She smiled back and gave the woman a little wink before she turned around. She strode through the squad room, mindful of the gazes that followed her movement; she threw in another wink for the show, enjoying the reaction it got her. The LAPD was the same whether she traipsed through traffic or through major crimes; most had a low tolerance for attorneys.

Later became the day after, late in the evening and a LAPD Captain that looked a bit swamped with life in general.

Madeline could only smile about the turn of events, the vague excuse of attending a Christmas ballet the evening before and then something about a foster son and a pending trial. Sharon always had good excuses even if she had never been good about expounding upon them.

No, Sharon never explained to the fullest. No, Madeline had to hear them second-hand from Gavin Baker, sometimes Hobbs – or even that gnat whose name she always forgot because the man was so boring. Sometimes, she got the news from no other than their friendly Judge Grove.

Good old Grove, Madeline thought. The judge had always had a soft spot for Sharon Raydor which in itself wasn't much of a mystery. Sharon had a way of inspiring the people around her, even more so when you got to know her personally. The cop who was well-versed in the finer points of the law; every attorney's wet dream to speak the truth. Then to top it, she was pleasing on the eye and always in control of her emotions.

Sharon was late.

A very unusual feat that transferred into Madeline nervously twirling the wine glass in front of her, sipping continuously until the glass was empty and she had to get it refilled.

The bar was new. The old usual place, the haunt where they had met up a number of times, had closed up last year; something about the economy and its owners being financially impaired.

Ten minutes later and Sharon came striding into the bar, looking as immaculate as ever. The view was exquisite from the moment the other woman came through the glass door till she sat down in front of Madeline in the back of the wine bar, the back room more out of sight and with lower lighting. Madeline enjoyed looking. The obligatory sleek high heels, the requisite pencil skirt that seemed snug and exposed enough of Sharon's legs that Madeline couldn't help but smirk, not to mention a blue colored silk shirt that fit nicely in shade. Madeline had almost – with a heavy emphasis on the almost – forgotten how much she enjoyed playing dress up with Sharon. The legs however, she had never forgotten. She still remembered the feel of the muscles beneath her fingers, the soft skin under her palm, thighs tight around her waist, warm against her head when she had made the other woman come.

Sharon sat primly across from her, sipping white wine with an air of precaution. This time her smile seemed tired and yet her appearance was graceful as always.

Madeline smiled wider, amused that even now Sharon Raydor blushed when you looked at her with obvious interest.

"You are late," Madeline told her.

"I had to deal with a security issue," the woman answered vaguely.

Madeline let it go and instead she tipped her wine glass for a salute. They shared soft cheers and took a prolonged sip.

"I am still affronted you are not in Internal Affairs anymore," Madeline commented with humor.

Sharon made a vague gesture with one hand, "Oh, don't you start now."

"I am just saying that your promotion is a great lost to Internal Affairs, a great loss to the soul of the force."

Sharon smiled knowingly, "You've had recent run-ins with someone from my former division, haven't you? A disagreement that didn't work out to your favor?"

"Oh, yes. That awful troll who answers the phone, horrid beyond measure. Lacking in every facet in comparison to his former boss."

Sharon smiled, a satisfied and proud smile.

"So, I hear you have acquired a third child?" Madeline shook her head with a muted smirk.

"It's a long story."

"And you don't think I would be interested in it?"

"You've never taken a particular interest in my two other kids."

Madeline smiled, "No, I haven't. I have always been more interested in undressing you."

Sharon blushed again and Madeline smiled to herself.

Sharon Raydor played with the stem of her empty wine glass, a remnant of burgundy liquid in the bottom being twirled around at the motion. The sheets on the bed were soft – silk with a high thread count if she had to guess. She watched the single little drop in the bottom of the handcrafted wine glass, the way it trailed a pellucid sheen of red after it. She could still taste the wine on her tongue, her lower lip dry when she licked it. Dry and bitter and possibly stained red, slightly swollen too she attested, the imprint of lips still vivid. She couldn't contain a smile, giddiness at remembering kissing and kissing ad absurdum, one kiss more drugging and exorbitant than the one preceding it. Her lips still tingled like the rest of her body hummed in content.

The thought of reapplying lipstick was brief but there. The bed however, was too comfortable to leave.

She pursed her lips in contemplation, head on her arm as she continued to lie on her stomach, legs leisurely swinging softly in the air. She felt free for the first time in years, as if somehow she had shed years off her frame, or maybe just the baggage of earlier disappointments in life. She felt younger, delightfully so.

"Are you always this quiet after sex?"

Sharon smiled to herself before she lazily looked over her shoulder. The other woman – the red-head, the attorney, well, her lover for the night – was giving her a curious glance, cross-legged and naked at the end of the bed, her own wine glass empty as well. The woman's lips were stained in the same fashion that Sharon imagined her own lips were, a similarity that out of the blue quivered through the muscles of her stomach not unlike arousal.

Wine and sex was a glorious combination, Sharon thought, especially in the right combination and with the right partner. Inevitably she briefly thought of Jack and the last time they had engaged in intimacy. It was lacking, that much she could remember, bittersweet, somehow.

It was at least a decade since she had felt comfortable mixing the two with him. She had no intentions of drinking with an alcoholic and sex was always either shaped out of remorse or anger; it never amounted to the level of satisfying that left her feeling rejuvenated.

Sharon shook her head, "Not usually."

The other woman smiled, and then with her eyes exclusively centered on Sharon, the red-head moved a finger along Sharon's exposed leg, the pad of her index finger soon followed by the dance of two more fingers, steeping through Sharon's skin and leaving invisible marks.

The touch made her giddy.

"More wine?" Madeline asked her in a low tone, the palm of her hand passing the back of Sharon's knee and going up her thigh. The touch stopped her breath and Sharon closed her eyes, anticipation tingling, the slow path the other woman's finger made up along her inner thigh, warm and sensual.

Sharon smiled and gave a nod in answer. She then watched the naked woman leave the two empty wine glasses on the night stand, her hand briefly running down Sharon's spine before she left the bedroom and walked out of view.

The bedroom was light and airy, cool colors and the panoramic window afforded an expensive view to the Pacific Ocean. Sharon found herself lost in the serene view to the seascape, lost in the afterglow of sex and the peaceful knowledge that no one knew her here. LA was at least a couple of hours away and her phone had neatly been turned off for the duration of the week; being the head of F.I.D had its benefits and being a newly appointed high-ranking LAPD Captain had even greater benefits.

Madeline traipsed back into the bedroom, an infectious smirk and a whole new decanted Ripasso, the color rich in the crystalline glass carafe. Sharon watched Madeline as she poured a generous amount in the two wine glasses on the night stand, the slightly unfamiliar features and the delicate skin, the clash of the woman's red hair against her pale skin and the reddish tinge on her shoulders and neck that looked to be on the brink of a sunburn. The woman had sharp angles, blue eyes and small but slightly protruding lips. Smaller breasts than Sharon and a smaller waist, more freckles on her arms and larger feet.

It was a curious thing to watch the other woman in this way, curious to simply watch a woman in this way. Curious because Sharon found herself entirely too pleased about the whole event. Curious because delicate curves and soft flesh felt wondrous to touch – to behold. Curious because she couldn't remember coming this many times in a row before.

Curious because the attorney had by far been the most fascinating thing to happen in a long time, curious because Sharon already knew the name that went along with the stranger approaching her table last night. Madeline Morgan, the up and coming, the one who seemed to be on the same level of disregard as Sharon when it came to police gossip. A marvelous defender – Gavin had spoken of her on and off, mostly to point out the many ways in which the woman annoyed him when she won against him in court. However dear that man was to Sharon's heart, he was a sour loser indeed.

Madeline sat back down on the end of the bed again, once again cross-legged and this time sipping her wine with a glance that left flutters beneath Sharon's skin.

Sharon gulped down a substantial amount of red wine and closed her eyes in pleasure. The other woman was caressing her leg again, having caught it in its pendulum swing and stopped its motion with a simple touch.

The woman followed her touch with soft lips, ghostlike at first until it evolved to harder nips and more pronounced kisses, up along her calf, retracing the same path that the woman had traced before she had left to acquire more wine. The same path that elicited arousal to dance and burn, flounder and otherwise spiral through Sharon's body.

She ended up feeling aflamed by the time she felt the other woman kiss the side of her neck. The red-head was heavy up top of Sharon's spine even if her frame was slight, legs against the side of Sharon's knees and pushing her legs apart – not that she needed the encouragement.

The touch of two fingers, long and slender, her clit in between the digits as Madeline slid them up and down her clit, it was ecstasy and agony.

Arousal slick like lava, molten and hot, impatiently awaiting release bouldered through Sharon, merciless and with no regard for heightened sensibility. Heightened by that exquisite taste of bitter wine; heightened by earlier touch.

"We should keep in touch," Madeline told Sharon when they waited outside the bar on the curb, both hanging back and pretending they were not trying to prolong the night, pretending not to see the furtive glances that passed between them.

"We should," Sharon repeated in dulcet tones, another one of her secretive, puzzling smiles in play before she stepped in close to Madeline and in a surprising gesture bestowed a soft kiss on Madeline's lips.

Madeline took the last step and closed the space between them, more comfortable with tracing the other woman's jaw line and deepening the kiss.

It was almost worth waiting two years for.

Hope you enjoyed it =)