Sharon didn't mean to listen in to the Lieutenants' conversation, it just happened that she was in search of a fresh pot of coffee at the same time that Flynn and Provenza were taking a break.
"I checked on her last night," Flynn was saying to Provenza. "And she's a complete mess - someone is supposed to be staying with her because of the bump to the head, but she wouldn't let me stay on the couch or even check on her this morning!"
Provenza sighed and took a sip from his coffee. "You know how she is about accepting help at the best of times," Provenza mused. "Right now she's feeling vulnerable to begin with…" He sighed and sipped again.
Sharon did know how Brenda was about accepting help. At the courthouse two days before, Brenda Leigh had fallen and wrenched her knee as well as whacking her head. Sharon had been in contact with her since - through text messages - but she guessed Brenda was putting on a good front. She certainly hadn't mentioned that her head bump required some supervision.
Brenda was used to accepting Sharon's help - maybe she'd be able to get past that initial barrier and be allowed to provide some care. If she didn't have any help, Brenda certainly wasn't keeping that knee immobile, and Sharon knew that could have long term implications for her ability to do her job.
Sharon dumped a creamer in to her mug, and added a measure of sugar, stirring contemplatively. She knew why she wanted to help Brenda Leigh - it perhaps wasn't the healthiest thing ever, but Sharon was comfortable with her feelings for Brenda; after so many years, it was almost like an extra appendage, just another arm. She wouldn't say she was in love, because in Sharon's mind, love was a reciprocal emotion, but she did adore her, despite (or maybe because of) her numerous quirks. The emotional barriers and trust issues were two quirks that Sharon was confident she could overcome.
She gave Flynn and Provenza a friendly nod as she left; Sharon wasn't going to let them in on her plan to try to help out their Chief - that whole trust thing demanded it. She didn't know if Brenda's squad was aware that she was friendly with their boss, and she didn't care.
Sharon managed to get herself out of work a little early. Since the departure of he who must not be named, Brenda had inhabited the duplex by herself; a lot of space for one tiny little woman who didn't have much inclination towards housework, or to use her rather large kitchen and dining room. Sharon had visited a few times during the lawsuit, but they weren't really 'come over to mine for a meal' sort of friend, so she hadn't been around since Fritz had moved out.
She parked her unmarked next to Brenda's. The yard and landscaping looked a little sad - somehow Sharon didn't see Brenda being much for yard work. She rang the bell.
"Its open," a small voice called from inside. Sharon's eyebrows shot up in alarm.
Opening the heavy door, Sharon said: "Aren't you lucky I'm not a felon?"
Brenda's head popped up over the back of the sofa; Sharon nearly gasped at the pair of bruised eyes she sported. Apparently the hit on the head was rather serious. Sharon wondered if the bossy little blonde had pressured her doctor to discharge her from the hospital when perhaps she should still be there.
"I do have a sidearm within easy reach, Cap'n," Brenda grumped with a scowl for her guest, then flopped back down out of sight.
Sharon let herself in and joined Brenda on the other side of the couch. It seemed that she had tried to put everything she might need over the course of a day within arms reach. There was even a foam cooler next to the coffee table.
Brenda looked absolutely miserable; the black eyes, her knee was ballooned large enough that Sharon didn't think the immobilizer that was slung across the back of the couch would even fit, her usually bouncy curls looked lank and dirty, and the brown eyes that usually snapped with vigor were dull and tired.
"You look wrecked," Sharon began bluntly. "Did you manage to sleep last night?"
Brenda scowled at her again, but answered. "I was scared to, and I can't get comfortable."
Brenda must be feeling wretched to actually admit something that telling straight off with no prodding.
"Will you let me help you?" Sharon asked softly, perching on the arm of the sofa at Brenda's feet.
Brenda nodded morosely, and to Sharon, her quick acceptance was practically as good as an engraved invitation.
Sharon began by gathering up the empty glasses that had begun to congregate on the coffee table. Suspiciously, there were very few dishes, other than a few empty cereal bowls.
"Have you eaten anything other than Lucky Charms and Count Chocula?"
Brenda shook her head minutely and desultorily changed the channel on the television. Sharon rolled her eyes and carried the armload of glass and ceramic in to the kitchen. The dishwasher was empty, so it was the work of moments to load it with the dirty dishes. Unfortunately, opening the refrigerator, it was also empty, aside from a carton of milk and a few take-away containers of dubious age.
"I can't even fix you a meal, Brenda Leigh," Sharon called. More than Brenda's injury, Sharon was worried about her general apathy - she knew Brenda would never be super excited about her home life, as it just wasn't in her nature, but right now, she was neglecting herself in an extreme manner.
Decided, Sharon poked her head back in to the living room. "I'm packing you a bag. You can stay with me at least until you're out of the immobilizer."
Brenda narrowed her eyes, trying to formulate an objection. Sharon could see the wheels turning in her head.
"Don't even, Chief. You can barely stand, you have a head injury, and I'm offering to cook meals and clean for you."
"Well, if you're going to clean up after me, Cap'n," Brenda joked, managing a small smile for Sharon.
Sharon packed that bag for Brenda, feeling a little odd pawing through her underwear drawer in search of things that could be worn with the immobilizer. Getting Brenda in the immobilizer and in the back of her unmarked was another challenge, but with crutches and judicious use of Sharon's shoulders, they managed.
Situating Brenda across the back seat of the car, Sharon propped her knee on a few extra pillows she'd purloined, just to be sure she had enough to keep Brenda comfortable. Their ride was quiet; Sharon thought that maybe the other woman was dozing.
As Sharon pulled in to her driveway and parked, her heart swelled with those not-quite-appropriate feelings for the almost urchin-like figure in her rearview mirror. She hoped that a little friendly care would show Brenda that she wasn't alone as she thought she was. She hoped that giving her friend a little friendly care wouldn't break her heart.
She gently woke Brenda, who was indeed asleep, the bruised eyes making her look even more exhausted than she must be. Brenda leaned heavily on her, using one crutch to get up Sharon's walkway.
"Let's get you settled on the couch and then I'll get some dinner started," Sharon said soothingly to the slightly dazed woman. Brenda mumbled an agreement, holding herself up while Sharon got the front door open. There was a welcome party assembled for them in the entryway.
"Oh, you have kitties," Brenda exclaimed, gazing down at the curious felines with a sort of rapture. Then she looked up at Sharon. "You never said you had kitties," said Brenda accusingly.
"Divulging my secret weapon?" Sharon joked, and Ollie, the big brown tabby, blinked slowly up at her in agreement; he was indeed a weaponized embodiment of cuteness.
"So you would have used them to lure me over here?" Brenda groused as Sharon guided her in to the house.
"Oh, definitely," Sharon assured her, ushering Brenda on to the massive sectional that dominated the living room. The cats followed, popping on to the back of the couch to watch Brenda get settled, waiting for her chance to introduce themselves.
Sharon sat and toed off her heels while Brenda looked around with undisguised interest. Besides the couch, there was a flat panel TV mounted on the wall, floor to ceiling bookshelves covered two walls, and a giant vertical tree that looked like a piece of wooden sculpture. The cats, confident that they were no longer going to be sat on, flowed down over the sofa for some attention. Ollie, more overtly interested in visitors, positioned himself next to Brenda, sniffing delicately at the brace on her knee before positioning himself next to a hand in prime position for some pettings.
"That's Ollie," Sharon introduced. "And this is Cassie." Sharon stroked down the silver tabby's spine; Cassie arched her back, purring, stepping lightly in to Sharon's lap.
Ollie and Cassie were siblings; big, beautiful Maine Coon cats that Sharon had rescued three years ago. The two cats had been living in a too small apartment, and while Sharon hadn't had experience with Maine Coons, she had plenty of space, and the willingness to put time and energy in to cat enrichment, which this pair definitely required.
"These are the biggest kitties I've ever met," Brenda cooed, charmed by Ollie's combination of friendly inquisitiveness and typical feline regality. He meowed and head butted the hand that had stilled its petting motions.
"They are big," agreed Sharon, lifting Cassie from her lap, where she seemed like she was going to settle in. "And they are excellent company - I guarantee that by the time you're mobile again, you'll be absolutely sick of them."
The smitten look that Brenda was giving Ollie, and his rumbling purr told Sharon that maybe she was wrong and that a little pet therapy was exactly was the Chief needed.
"I'm going to get some dinner started," Sharon said softly, leaving Brenda on the couch, looking much more comfortable than she had on her own couch. Brenda smiled at her gratefully, almost relievedly, then snuggled down in to the sofa, sinking her fingers in to Ollie's thick coat and closing her eyes.
Sharon had to wake Brenda up again for dinner. Ollie was curled up next to her side, squished cozily against the back of the couch, which the big cat enjoyed. Cassie had taken up station keeping on the back of the couch, keeping an eye on their guest, and on her brother.
Brenda was happy to sit up and eat the bowl of homemade beef stew over rice that Sharon handed her. She even politely asked Sharon if she could share a bit of bread crust with the kitties, who were totally not begging as the women ate off TV trays.
After they ate, it was too early even for exhausted Brenda to crutch off to bed, so Sharon demonstrated, much to Brenda's delight, some of the kitty enrichment she used to keep the cats from destroying the house.
Flipping around a feathered cat toy for the enjoyment of Ollie, Cassie and Brenda Leigh was easy; less easy was the prospect of safely getting Brenda in and out of a shower. She knew it would make Brenda feel better, but only if they could manage it with it stressing her knee.
When Ollie lay panting on the floor after dozens of acrobatic leaps, and Cassie sat on a limb of the cat tree, watching him, flipping her tail as if laughing at the over exuberance of her brother, Sharon broached the issue, tentatively.
"Would you like a shower?" She offered. "The shower in the master bath has a nice bench and an extendable shower head."
Brenda wrinkled her nose. "Am I stinkin' that bad." She gave herself a cursory sniff, and the sight of Brenda checking if she smelled under her arms gave Sharon a thrill, thinking of things that could make both of them a little smelly. At the same time.
Pulling her head out of fantasy land wasn't easy. "Brenda," chided Sharon. "Would it feel better going to sleep clean?"
Brenda nodded, not making eye contact, maybe still ashamed that she needed help, or just disgruntled in general.
"Let me get things set up, and I'll be right back."
Sharon hustled away to set up towels, and dig out a spare robe. She also sat a kitchen chair next to the shower door so Brenda could dry off and dress without having to worry about leaving the bathroom or perching on the toilet.
Brenda took quite a while in the shower. Sharon took advantage of Brenda's enjoyment of the plentiful hot water and fed the cats and started a load of laundry while keeping an ear out for any trouble. She was glad she did, because about 30 seconds after the water shut off, there was a squeal that echoed alarmingly off the marble tiles of the bathroom.
Sharon darted to the en suite door and knocked gently. "Brenda, is everything ok?"
"Um…" Brenda sounded unsure, which was reason enough for Sharon to worry.
"May I come in?"
"Yes," Brenda answered, sounding small.
Though she wanted to preserve Brenda's dignity (and her sanity) as much as she could, it was impossible to avoid looking at Brenda when attempting to help her recover from what appeared to be a tumble backwards over the threshold of the shower. She'd pulled a towel over herself, though was nevertheless more exposed than Sharon had ever seen, but now was not the time for Sharon to indulge herself, not when Brenda was hurt and shivering and altogether too thin. She had the urge to feed the other woman a second supper.
"I misjudged the distance between the shower and the chair," Brenda explained as Sharon knelt next to her.
"You didn't hurt your knee again, did you?" Sharon narrowed her eyes in preparation for sussing out any falsehoods the Chief might tell.
"No. Just my toosh, a little, and my pride," answered Brenda, flushing a little, turning more pink than warm water and humid air could account for.
"Ok." Sharon believed her; Brenda had been remarkably forthright with her today, plus she had gotten quite adept at reading the lies on Brenda's face. "Let me help you into the chair, and then you can call me when you're finished in here."
Brenda used Sharon's shoulder to lever herself into the waiting chair, saving Sharon the torturous delight of lifting her more bodily off the floor. As it was, she could not resist giving a reassuring squeeze to one of Brenda's bare shoulders before leaving the bathroom and closing the door behind her.
Sharon changed quickly in to her pajamas, tiny shorts and a tank top in deference to her propensity to sleeping with the windows open during the spring and summer. It also happened to be similar to what Brenda had to put on, though Sharon had paired the blonde's tiny little running shorts with a slimly cut long-sleeved t-shirt and camisole. The prospect of dressing Brenda for the next week or so was exciting, even if the wardrobe she'd pulled from the other woman's drawers was limited to boxers, running shorts and casual tops. They would cross the road of real clothes when Brenda's knee wasn't the size of a basketball.
As Brenda had her first physical therapy appointment that afternoon, Sharon wrapped up her day just after lunch, checking in with her subordinates and handing out new assignments. Before leaving, she clipped down to Major Crimes. Brenda had been communicating with her squad all day on Sharon's borrowed laptop from her command center on the guest bed, but they had no idea where she was, and would probably become territorial when Sharon went to check Brenda's departmental inbox. If Brenda hadn't shared where she was staying, Sharon was going to do her best to keep the boys in the dark. Brenda was feeling fragile and raw and didn't want herself exposed to any eyes, that she had let Sharon in was immeasurably special, and Sharon was going to hold on to that with both hands.
The Murder Room appeared to be empty as Sharon entered, and she resisted the urge to tip-toe as she walked to Brenda's office door and swiped two envelopes out of the mailbox that hung there. She didn't even look at them, just tucked them under her arm and turned to make her escape before she was caught, but her luck didn't hold as Tao darted out of the media room, slamming on the brakes when he saw her. She plastered on a confident smile, gave him a jaunty little wave, and turned on the speed, getting out of the line of fire before the Lieutenant could get himself together to question her presence there.
Sharon exited her car with her arms full; Brenda's mail, soups and salads and a big cupcake for her guest. She was unreasonably excited about having Brenda Leigh in her home; Sharon knew she needed to temper feelings and create a little distance because what this meant for her, what this felt like, was not reality. Brenda would get better and go home and it would be back to her and the cats. But Brenda was so lost right now, beyond the hurt knee, she needed someone to be open with her and sweet to her and supportive of her in order to heal some of the emotional wounds that her divorce and the Goldman case had caused. That Sharon had the opportunity to provide these things in a personal setting - well, she had been thanking every deity she could think of for the past 18 hours.
There was no welcoming committee waiting for her in the foyer as she got herself through the front door. She slipped out of her shoes, and padded in to the kitchen to deposit the food. Standing in the doorway of the guest bedroom with Brenda's mail in her hands, Sharon's heart thudded pleasantly, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes involuntarily. Brenda was nestled among a mountain of pillows, her knee propped up on a stack of two. Cassie was perched on the pillow above her shoulder, peering down at whatever Brenda was doing on the computer. All she could see of Ollie was his tail, as he had burrowed between Brenda's body and the pillows.
"Well, doesn't this look cozy," she purred happily, and was gifted with a huge smile from Brenda, and Ollie's head popping up from among the pillows. Brenda looked much more well-rested and comfortable than she had yesterday when Sharon discovered her on the couch in the duplex. And the kitties looked right at home; in fact, she was surprised how 'in-the-mix' the usually a little standoffish Cassie was.
"Hi!" Brenda greeted her gaily. "I hear you were burglarizin' my Murder Room!"
Sharon chuckled and took the liberty of crawling on to the bed, heedless of wrinkling her suit, reaching for Ollie's head and tickling him behind the ears.
"I got your mail and hightailed it out of there," Sharon confessed.
"Couldn't stand up to the firing line, eh?"
"I'm sure I could have talked my way out of the whatever your boys wanted to accuse me of, but I did want to bring you your lunch and get you to PT on time." She didn't want to talk to Brenda about her reluctance to tell the Major Crimes squad what was going on with Brenda, and her reasons for that reluctance. That was too heavy and too revealing for the business of cheering Brenda up a little, and for keeping Sharon's heart safe whilst Brenda was inhabiting her guest bedroom.
"Ooooo, lunch!" Brenda's focus changed immediately at the mention of food. "I ate most of the snacks you left me, but the kitties helped. A little."
"Oh, kitties." Sharon scratched down Ollie's spine, and he wriggled from his spot next to Brenda to step onto Sharon's lap, stretching up to touch his nose to hers. "They do like to beg."
"They're wonderful, Sharon," Brenda gushed, reaching up to bury her finger's in Cassie's chest, which the cat accepted with a rumbling purr. "They've kept me company all morning, and Ollie is such a talker."
Brenda's enthusiasm about the cats was charming and catching. Sharon was suddenly very thankful for their over-the-top personalities. Feeling comfortable, she stretched out on her side, allowing Ollie to stretch out too, and have his belly rubbed. Brenda smiled down at them, a kind of wonder in her eyes, and Sharon couldn't help but smile back.
They gave the kitties their due appreciation for a few minutes. Brenda set the computer aside so Cassie could step down into her lap and then over to Sharon for a hello.
"Let me change and then we'll get you set up for lunch," Sharon murmured, and Brenda grinned at her, apparently unable to stop smiling today.
"Can we eat together?"
"Of course. Probably not at the table though - we need to keep that knee elevated."
Sharon woke up with a cat in her face. Cassie meowed kitty breath in her face again, prodding her in the cheek with her nose. She groaned, eyes flicking to the clock on her nightstand. She'd gone to bed at 11:30 after a rather strenuous afternoon of helping Brenda to be a little more mobile, getting her in and out of the house and the therapist's office and deflecting her requests to stop by the office really quick to pick up some things. It was just after one, and she had no idea why Cassie, who had chosen to sleep with Brenda (as had her brother, those traitors, but Brenda certainly needed their services more than Sharon did), was waking her up in the middle of the night. She sat up, and Cassie meowed again, louder, and turned as if she was going to jump off the bed, pausing to look over her shoulder before she did, looking significantly at Sharon.
"Ok, ok, I get it," Sharon grumbled, swinging her legs around and sliding out of bed. Cassie landed on the floor with a thump and trotted off towards the guest room, tail in the air.
It was apparent why Cassie had woken her when the sound of Brenda crying trickled down the hallway. Sharon almost didn't knock, but pulled herself up in the doorway and rapped quietly on the jamb.
"Are you ok? Cassie came and woke me up."
Brenda managed a watery chuckle, and Ollie's head popped up, as he'd wedged himself down by Brenda again. He shot her a look that said clearly: 'Mom, please fix this, because apparently cuddles aren't doing the trick.'
"Fritz heard I'd hurt myself and he called to gloat," Brenda said in an unsteady voice, and Sharon dropped the pretense of distance, and climbed into the bed, wanting to pull the pillows away and gather Brenda into her arms, but her injury would make it difficult, and Sharon didn't know if it would be welcome - she didn't know if Brenda was the type who appreciated a hug when she was emotional, or if she would appreciate a hug from Sharon. She reached for her hand instead, which Brenda gripped tightly.
"He said he wasn't surprised that I had hurt myself, like I can't be trusted to walk now that I'm not married to his ass." She scraped at her eyes with the hand that wasn't in Sharon's. "He didn't even ask if I was alright or why I had fallen. I didn't want to tell him that you were helpin' me out because I knew he would disparage that and you and the kindness that you're doin' me."
"He can disparage all he likes, Brenda Leigh. It doesn't change anything."
"I know. I know. But you take a lot of shit already, and I don't want you to take anymore for doin' a nice thing for me."
"That's sweet of you." It was nice to hear that Brenda's protective instincts were aroused on Sharon's behalf. "Is there anything I can do so you can get a good night's sleep tonight?"
"Stay? I don't wanna be alone."
Sharon nodded, shy, and pulled back the duvet to slide in a little closer to Brenda, who settled back against her pillows again, tears no longer leaking from her big brown eyes.