A/N: Hello, lovelies! This little, pointless ficlet is dedicated to the impossibly wonderful Sara (PresidentLauraRoslin on tumblr), who suggested someone write a drabble based off this glorious Brenda/Sharon photoset: post/7387989034. I'm afraid it really is some basic, plot-less smut, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!
[Also, yes, this is done for the Brenda/Sharon Month of Love, of which I'm really delighted to be part.]

Reviews are the Hershey's Kiss to my Brenda Leigh Johnson... :3

Disclaimer: Everything belongs to me! ... Or so I wish. Close enough, I guess.

Back Up, Back Down

'How many more times will you have me repeat this, Chief,' Sharon whispered in between clenched teeth, her lips stretching into a sneer despite her efforts. 'We are looking at an officer,' she said, putting as much emphasis on the word as she humanly could, 'having discharged his weapon at a civilian.' She pointed at the body sprawled upon the asphalt ground for good measure, before returning her hand to her hip. 'This situation,' she said slowly, taking a step towards Brenda in obvious defiance, 'falls under FID's jurisdiction. My department. Simple as that. Now, if any of this-'

Brenda suddenly pressed the flat of her palms against her face, rubbing her forehead and temples, before replying in a deliberately exasperated manner.

'Thank you immensely for your input, Captain Raydor, not that it was very much required, though, as happen,' she continued, tucking an escaped strand of hair behind her ear, 'to be quite familiar myself with the inner workings of the LAPD. Now, all I ask of you, Captain, is that you nicely step off your high horses for a couple hours, in order to let my division a chance to do its job. After which, I promise, this crime scene will be all yours.'

Raydor's eyes instantly narrowed at the comment. Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson might well be her direct commanding officer, but there was absolutely no chance she would let the other woman speak to her in such a disrespectful manner. Feeling her hands unwillingly clench around the fabric of her jacket's lapels, she took a deep breath, attempting to keep her rising anger at bay a little longer still.

'Chief Johnson, in all due respect,' she growled in a particularly low and threatening manner, 'you know as well as I do that this cannot possibly happen. My division must-'

'Go first, yes, I know,' Brenda interrupted, throwing her hands up in the air, whilst rolling her chocolate eyes into their orbs. 'For heaven's sake, Cap'n, would you please let go of your little rule-book for a little while? Your- your incessant whining is making both our divisions waste a considerable amount of time; I hope you realise this.'

As soon as the misfortunate words had escaped her lips, Brenda knew she had overstepped whichever silent boundary of respect still existed between her and the infuriating head of Internal Affairs. From the way Sharon's eyes instantly seemed to have darkened with sheer furor, she knew she was in for a confrontation; she felt her blood run cold despite herself.

She had to admit that, between her designer power suit and her sky-high heels, Captain Raydor could sometimes be rather intimidating. However, Brenda remained her direct superior; she couldn't possibly take a chance to be discredited in front of her whole team. She took a brief glance around, only to notice that her altercation with the iron-fisted woman seemed to have drawn a fair amount of attraction already: her entire squad was watching the two women with hungry eyes, holding their collective breaths, as if anticipating an imminent explosion. All things considered, it wasn't so unlikely, Brenda told herself dryly.

'Chief Johnson-' Sharon began, abruptly stopping when she felt the Chief's fingers tightly –and almost painfully- wrap around her wrist, forcing her bangle to dig into the skin of her upper arm.

'Cap'n Raydor,' Brenda whispered, her tone icy, 'my office. Right now.'

Shaking her hand off the other woman's painful grip, Sharon followed dutifully, her boiling furor almost tangible, the clatter of her heels echoing in the silent corridor. Closely following the other woman, she stepped into the room, pointedly slamming the door behind her to emphasize the depth of her silent anger. Brenda, occupied to shut the blinds, didn't seem willing to pay any attention at the Captain's little display of mood. This was her office, her department and, above all, her case. She wouldn't have that woman manhandle her in her own territory.

Turning to face her opponent, Brenda smacked her lips together, and began.

'Captain Raydor, what exactly do you think you are doing?'

Repressing a snort, Sharon blinked repeatedly in mock-obliviousness. 'Chief, I'm afraid you'll have to develop your point-'

'Don't play dim with me, Cap'n', the Chief growled, her accent thickened by her own rising exasperation. 'You know perfectly what I'm referring to. What exactly do you hope to achieve, with your low attempts to discredit me in front of my own squad?'

'My low attempts to discredit you?' Sharon repeated in a scoff, raising a provocative eyebrow at her commanding officer. 'Do you think this is what I'm trying to do, Chief? Do you believe that- truly?'

'Well, I-' Brenda attempted to reply, only to realise she had absently opened her candy drawer, probably in order to soothe her nerves. Not wanting to provide the Captain with yet another reason to exercise her biting scorn, the blonde slammed the drawer shut a little too abruptly, sending a discarded pencil roll off her desk. She didn't bother to pick it up.

'Why, why, isn't this simply magnificent,' Sharon interrupted, perching on the edge of Brenda's desk with an overly gleeful smirk that had the Deputy Chief fear for the worst. 'Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson, I had no idea you felt so incredibly threatened by my sheer presence in your department.'

Flashing the other woman a positively devious smirk, Sharon crossed her legs, rocking back and forth on her seat, in a particularly infuriating manner. Brenda had to clench her fists until she felt her own nails dig into her palms, to resist the urge to wrap said hands around the other woman's throat.

This wouldn't be fair of her to put her squad through yet another ordeal with FID, by brutally murdering the Captain, Brenda tried to reason with herself, without much success. That woman. There was something so unbelievably unnerving, maddening about her; something which made her skin crawl, and against which she didn't appear to have any form of control. And this- this horrendous sensation of being at the complete mercy of the enemy was something Brenda couldn't bear.

'But you see, Chief Johnson,' she heard Sharon's trademark passive-aggressive voice say, covering her own thoughts, 'this may come as a shock to you, but I have much more important things to do with my days, than pointlessly attempt to dent your precious little ego.'

Gracefully, Sharon let herself drop to the floor, before sashaying her way towards the door of the Chief's office. In her heart of hearts, she knew she was taking it too far, but she couldn't possibly resist pushing the other woman's blatant buttons. Besides, there was something positively thrilling and exhilarating in sparring with Brenda Leigh Johnson; and Sharon lately found herself in dire need of thrills.

'Now if you excuse me,' she said, without as much as bothering to face the other woman, 'I have a crime scene I need to examine. Good day, Chief,' she added, shooting Brenda a haughty smile.

Sharon's little eyebrow raise, no matter how discrete, was what made the Deputy Chief finally topple over the edge. That woman! That impossible, fury of a woman!What on earth did she think she was playing at?

In a second, without having quite realised it herself, Brenda was by Sharon's side, her palm firmly pressing against the door to prevent the Captain's escape, effectively trapping the latter's body between hers and the wooden panel. Her eyes instantly locking with Sharon's emerald ones, Brenda cocked her head to the side and smacked her lips together. She notice, with a shudder of satisfaction, the way Sharon had just swallowed with difficulty, while her hands were toying with the hem of her beloved vest's pockets; the woman was obviously nervous, yet she made a point in refusing to look down, staring right at Brenda with as little sympathy as she could muster.

'That's enough, Captain Raydor. You will immediately cease addressing me in such an insolent manner; consider this your first and last warning.'

Sharon's eyebrow couldn't have risen higher if she tried; for a moment, Brenda even thought the other woman would spit right at her face, however unlike the other woman this may have sounded.

'And what if I don't comply, Chief?,' Sharon growled, 'what are you going to do to me? Chase me through the corridors and hit me with that hideous purse of yours?'

'Shut up, Captain, or I'll make you,' Brenda warned, stepping even closer to the other woman, until their bodies were a mere breath away from being pressed against each other.

Sharon's intended scoff died in her throat when she suddenly felt the Chief's lips ravenously crushing hers, effectively silencing her. Her entire figure froze for a couple seconds before her mind finally went numb, and she entirely submitted all of herself to the press of her superior's demanding mouth. Somehow, it occurred to Sharon that Brenda Leigh's kisses perfectly portrayed the woman herself; they were passionate, obstinate and, to Sharon Raydor, utterly maddening.

Just when the latter was about to completely give in to the overwhelming sensation of having this infuriating woman's tongue pushing against hers in a frenetic power struggle, Sharon found herself roughly shoved back; her body collided loudly with the door, and a guttural moan escaped her throat despite herself, when she suddenly became aware of Brenda's breasts tightly pressing against her own chest. Her fingertips tingling with the urge to touch the latter's molten-looking skin, Sharon tentatively reached for Brenda's slim waist. She was, however, instantly interrupted by icy words from Brenda, whispered against her lips.

'Don't you dare move another muscle, Captain. If you lift but a finger, this is all over. Understood?'

Feeling a very degrading wave of sheer desire travel along her spine before coiling deep within her lower stomach, Sharon gave a sharp little nod, submitting despite herself to Brenda's dominance. When the latter's hands suddenly travelled up to roughly palm her breasts through the thick fabric of her shirt, Raydor could not repress a high-pitched gasp; the Chief smirked against her willing prey's wet lips, before latching her own onto Sharon's throbbing pulse point, sucking hard enough to leave a scarlet signature upon the flesh.

Spurred by the tell-tale shape of the Captain's nipples hardening under her satin shirt, Brenda's initially feather-light caresses began to grow more and more insistent and, attempting to distract her nemesis by peppering love bites and soft kisses upon her trembling shoulder, she let her fingers travel south, until they hooked themselves to the hem of Sharon's black, pencil skirt.

It was all so bizarre, Brenda thought to herself: one minute she desired nothing more than to rip this woman to shreds with her bare nails, and the other, her only desire was to coax her trembling body to the very edge of ecstasy, until she had the woman beg for sweet release. And beg, Sharon would, Brenda realised with satisfaction, as she watched the latter's emerald eyes flutter close, whilst she bit her bottom lip hard, trying to keep her gasps and moans at bay.

'So, Cap'n Raydor,' Brenda chanted, her hot breath tickling the brunette's earlobe. 'I think I recall you repeatedly telling me how you- what was it again?,' she asked in mock-curiosity. Sneaking a hand under Raydor's skirt, gently hitching it up whilst her eager fingertips tickled the woman's pale thighs softly, she pressed another molten kiss upon Sharon's still agape lips. 'Oh, yes, I remember now- you were telling me how you must always go first. Was that it, Captain?'

Once again, Sharon nodded silently, her eyes never once leaving Brenda's chocolate ones.

Leaning even closer against the Captain's figure, Brenda darted her tongue and gave Sharon's earlobe a brief lap, before pressing two insistent fingers hard against Sharon's soaked center, teasing her through the fabric of her now-ruined underwear.

'Well, Captain,' Brenda whispered, her fingers remaining utterly still against Sharon's tortured body, 'please, be my guest.'

Upon these words, Brenda Leigh Johnson began relentlessly rubbing against the Captain's ablaze sex, in slow yet firm circular motion, punctuating her movements with little pinches of the other woman's nipples.

Both out of pride and obedience, Sharon was struggling with every fiber of her being not to meet the Chief's caresses halfway, using all of the mental strength she could muster to keep her physical reactions under control, without much success. Her fists were clenching and unclenching repeatedly, her fingers burning to tangle themselves in Brenda's so alluring golden tresses.

After a particularly efficient pinch to the Captain's clitoris, Brenda suddenly stopped her movements, keeping her fingers just a touch away from Sharon's demanding flesh.

'Is this what you wanted all along, Cap'n?' Brenda suddenly asked in a husky whisper. 'For me take you hard against a wall, and have you shakin' and moanin'?'

The only response Sharon could muster was a strangled whimper, to which Brenda replied by a scoff.

'You're gonna have to do much better than that, Captain Raydor,' the blonde woman continued, her thick, southern accent having now become the most arousing thing Sharon had ever heard. 'If you want me to finish you off, I'm afraid you're going to have to beg.'

Ignoring the inner pleas of her melting body, Sharon shot Brenda a murderous glare, desperately hanging on to whatever little pride she had left. Unfortunately, her irate air only seemed to spur Brenda more. Rising to her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to Sharon's jaw, before reinterring her demands.

'Come on, Sharon,' Brenda said, and the latter shivered at the sound of her first name in her torturer's mouth. 'Beg. And- be convincing.'

Rolling her eyes, yet unable to control her urges any longer, Sharon complied.

'Brenda Leigh, please,' she breathed out.

All of a sudden, Brenda's bony fingers clasped her chin, pressing her cheek roughly against the door.

'It's Deputy Chief Johnson to you, Captain. Don't you forget it.'

As if to emphasize her words, Brenda briefly pressed her thumb against the Captain's erect nub of nerves, drawing a dry gasp from her throat.

In the best voiceless squeak she could muster, Sharon started her plea over.

'Please, Deputy Chief Johnson, please- finish what you've started.' She took in a breath, and looked right through her superior's eyes before continuing. 'Make me yours.'

It was all Brenda needed to hear; feeling her own core tense up with sheer hunger for the unraveling woman, she dropped to her knees, without leaving Sharon much of a chance to realise what she was about to do.

Roughly yanking Sharon's underwear down, she pressed a blazing kiss to Sharon's sex, her tongue softly lapping along the throbbing flesh, while she slipped two torturously slow fingers deep within the Captain. From Raydor's erratic breathing alone, Brenda knew the woman was right on the edge already; all she needed was one last, little push.

Tearing her mouth away from the sweet and salty fluids she craved to lap away, Brenda blew a breath of cold air against Sharon's aching clitoris, before latching her lips onto it again, sucking fervently as she roughly pushed three long fingers as deeply within the other woman as possible; it was all it took.

Sharon let out a loud, strangled whimper, despite having pressed a trembling fist against her lips. Her free hand suddenly tangled deep into Brenda's golden mane, giving it an irrepressible little yank, which made Brenda's own sex clench rather deliciously, drawing the ghost of a moan from her lips. She took a moment to gaze at the delightful vision that was Sharon Raydor, the infamous Wicked Witch of FID, her own tresses tousled beyond repair, her face positively glowing with satisfaction; to Brenda, she looked the very picture of post-coital bliss.

Rising to her feet again, Brenda pressed a small, chaste kiss to Sharon's cheekbone whilst she busied her hands with readjusting her colleague's skirt and blouse, fastening the buttons herself, in genuine fear than the usually impeccable-looking woman might neglect to do it, especially in her current state of distraction.

After a few seconds of utter silence, Sharon murmured, in a barely audible voice, 'Chief, I-'

Flashing the Captain her most impish smile, Brenda Leigh pressed a single finger against the latter's lips, effectively silencing her. She inwardly gloated when she realised the extent of her newfound power over the otherwise impossible woman. Ha, she thought, that will teach her.

'Well, Captain Raydor,' Chief Johnson suddenly said, straightening up, 'I'm very glad we finally managed to reach an understanding. Thank you for your- cooperation, and be sure it was much appreciated.'

Sharon simply looked at her, her eyes wide open, apparently still at a complete loss for words. Brenda pushed the door of her office open and slipped out almost without a sound. Before disappearing in the corridor, though, she turned back towards Captain Raydor.

'If you'll excuse me, Captain, I have a crime scene I need to examine,' she said, pointedly stealing the woman's earlier words. 'I'm sure you're perfectly able to see yourself out.'

Closing the door behind her, Brenda strut away, leaving an utterly confused, disheveled, and still slightly aroused Sharon in her wake, whose only reaction was to let her back slowly slip against the wall, until she found herself sitting on the floor her Chief's office.

Oh, that woman.

A couple hours later…

Just as Brenda Leigh Johnson was mentally congratulating herself for having successfully avoided Captain Raydor since their earlier encounter, the doors of the elevator, which had almost come to a close, suddenly re-opened. As if on cue, the unmistakable silhouette of Sharon Raydor, her nose almost buried in the depth of a manila file, stepped into the enclosed space, without as much as a glance for her superior officer.

When she eventually looked up to Brenda, she gave a little, almost imperceptible squeak of surprise and promptly shut her folder, her knuckles turning pale with the strength of her tightening grip onto the bundle of paper.

Brenda exasperatedly noticed that Sharon had managed, once more, the miracle of erasing every last little trace of their earlier shenanigans- she looked remarkably normal, her chestnut tresses neatly rearranged, and her blouse tucked back into her skirt.

Sharon suddenly leaned back against the wall of the elevator, not quite daring to meet Brenda's eyes when she began speaking.

'Well, this morning sure was-'

'Interesting?'

'Unexpected, mostly,' Sharon replied, her tone extraordinarily calm, to Brenda's dismay. 'But you do have a point, Chief.'

A thick silence had already settled between the two of them when Sharon spoke again.

'We probably shouldn't have done that,' she declared, matter-of-factly.

'Probably not, indeed.' Brenda paused, breathing in slowly. Why was finding the right words suddenly so hard? 'But there's no need to fret, Captain, seeing as it is never going to happen- ever again.'

'Quite,' Sharon murmured. If she hadn't known better, Brenda would perhaps have ventured to say that the other woman almost sounded disappointed at the prospect.

There was another long, awkward pause, before Sharon said, without any semblance of rhyme or reason, 'Besides, I think you bruised my labia.'

At the Captain's utterly unexpected remark, Brenda couldn't help but dissolve into nervous giggles; she was soon joined by Sharon herself, who had to press both her hands against her lips to quiet herself. Once their laughter had finally receded, Brenda noticed how they both seemed much more at ease than before. Despite herself, she flashed Sharon a half-smile.

Just as they were but a couple floors from Brenda's destination, Sharon suddenly turned to face the other woman, seizing her up with a single look, before crossing her arms tightly under her chest.

'If you think about it, Chief, it is quite a shame than we will never get to ever repeat our morning activities,' she suddenly declared in her most Raydor voice. 'After having witnessed your unexpected capacities for selflessness and cooperation, I was almost willing to offer you to go first on our next case. A shame, really.'

Unable to respond, Brenda simply eyed the Captain up and down, trying to ignore the blatant implications of her words. Surely, she wasn't suggesting what Brenda thought she did.

As the elevator eventually came to a complete stop, Sharon suddenly wrapped a lazy arm around Brenda's waist, quickly pulling her in, until her lips came to rest right next to the Chief's ear. 'I will be looking forward to our next shared case, Deputy Chief Johnson. A lot.'

Then, Raydor's lips came to hover perilously close to Brenda's and, after having scraped impossibly lightly the Chief's bottom lip with her teeth, Sharon dropped a small, yet surprisingly enticing kiss to the top of her nose, before stepping out of the elevator without bothering to look back, as if they had just had the most civil of discussions.

Bemused, Brenda remained in the elevator, leaning back against the wall in turn. Her fingers were ghosting despite herself over her bottom lip, tracing the place where Sharon's mouth had been moments before. As she pondered over the woman's attitude for a moment, it suddenly hit Brenda Leigh that, with this little scene of hers, the Captain had just managed to slyly regain the upper hand in whichever little game they had going on. Closing her eyes, she let out a deep, exasperated sigh.

Oh, that woman.

The End.

A/N: That's all, folks! I hoped you enjoyed this- I know there wasn't much of a plot, but still.
Anyway, thanks for reading, and have some virtual Ding-Dongs from me!

-Wil.