Hey guys, this was just a little something that popped into my head. I've been really sick lately and have had the urge to write, so when this popped up I just kind of went with it. As always reviews are love!
PS: The characters and their respective shows are not mine, I'm only playing.
When she heard the click of the lock Brenda winced slightly. She had intended to be as quiet as possible; she didn't want to disturb anyone inside the apartment. She had tried to leave as soon as possible but one thing after another had happened at her office today; she was lucky she was strolling in now.
One of her aids had misplaced one of her more important reports and after frantically searching for it all morning; she had used the early afternoon to recreate said report. The second straw came when she stumbled into the break room, bleary eyed, around two o'clock for a pick me up. She marched through the doors only to discover that her personal dulce de leche creamer was no longer in date; one quick whiff of sour milk and she determined it unsalvageable.
Things just continued to snowball after that…a broken shoe, burning her tongue on her coffee, a boring departmental meeting, and one extremely long telephone conference later and the blonde was ready to crawl into bed. With her head under the pillow she could hopefully forget this day had happened. She was used to being pulled into all different directions and yes she'd had worse days as head of Major Crimes, but it appeared she had become accustomed to the leisurely life she was living now. It didn't help that she hadn't seen Sharon in three days either.
They were supposed to have dinner two days earlier but Sharon had called Brenda at her office to let her know that it wouldn't be possible. It seemed that Rusty had caught some sort of stomach bug and she didn't feel it was 'safe' for Brenda to come over. Her intuition proved to be right when the blonde had called her the next afternoon asking after Rusty's health only to discover her girlfriend had contracted whatever the teenager had as well. She had tried to be helpful and asked Sharon if she needed anything, but the answer was always the same.
'Gatorade,' Brenda had insisted.
'Honey,' Sharon began.
'I'm just so worried,' the blonde continued.
'We are fine Brenda Leigh,' her lover interrupted softly.
The way she said it Brenda could hear the slight smile in her voice.
Brenda had been climbing the walls the last few days; she was torn between not wanting to disturb them and wanting answers on how they were feeling. She knew just how important it was to rest when you had the flu and they couldn't do that I she kept constantly calling and texting.
Logically she knew that Sharon was more than capable of caring for both of them, she had raised two children after all, but she couldn't help herself. So she had made the split second decision to stop by for a quick visit before heading home…just to make sure they were all right.
She carefully pushed the door open and slipped silently inside, toeing off her shoes while hearing Sharon's gentle reprimand in her head. Her purse joined them on the floor as she craned her neck to see the couch just out of her view. The right side of her face lifted into a smile and she felt it deepen as she moved farther into the living room, the quiet swoosh from her slacks the only sound she made.
On one end of the plush couch was the teenager with sandy blonde hair, his head cocked backward at such an odd angle that Brenda winced as she thought of the neck ache he would wake up with. His bare feet were perched on the coffee table and crossed at he the ankle, but that was all that was visible besides his face from under a burnt orange throw blanket. Brenda ran her fingers gently over his forehead, moving away errant strands of hair that had fallen out of place; she could feel the heat of his fever. She could also hear his breathing and realized just how congested he must be, his chest rising heavily.
She trailed her fingers over his shoulder and across the back of the couch, stopping to gaze at the woman nestled in the opposite side, arms wrapped around herself and feet tucked securely under her son. Sharon's face was devoid of make up so Brenda could see the dark circles that had formed under her eyes and the pale color of her skin. She had a thick pair of wool socks on her feet and a pair of red flannel pajama pants; her chest rose steadily under her old grey LAPD sweatshirt. She wore her hair in a messy ponytail on top of her head and to Brenda she looked beautiful.
How Rusty ended up with the entire blanket she'll never know, but with a gentle tug of her wrist the tension gave way and she gingerly tucked it under the woman's chin. As her hand slipped away, she couldn't help but caress the prominent cheekbones, wishing it could have been her lips instead of the tips of her fingers. She had missed her lover more than she thought.
She sighed quietly and padded through the front room, stopping dead in her tracks when entered the kitchen. To say it was a mess was an understatement...Sharon must be very sick indeed. There were dishes on every surface, the stove housed pans with questionable contents, and the sink was filled as well. All Brenda could do was look around in awe and she tried to wrack her brain to remember if she had ever seen the condo in this state. She came up with a resounding 'no.'
"Good heavens," she muttered quietly under her breath.
The younger woman pushed up the sleeves of her blouse and turned the hot water tap, waiting patiently for it to heat to the proper temperature. As she lost herself in the tedious motion of washing dishes, she let her mind wander. She couldn't help but think how much she had changed and this made her hum to herself quietly.
Had she ever done dishes for Fritz?
Had she ever done them without being asked?
Maybe at the beginning of the relationship as some deluded way to keep up the charade that she was much more cleanly than she truly was. Maybe to impress him or make some sort of an effort before they got too serious. She tried so hard to fit into the mold that he seemed to have for her, but it didn't work for long, if it ever truly worked at all.
With Sharon it was different…Brenda didn't want to impress her or be someone who she wasn't, she only wanted to be herself. She wanted to help the brunette and do things for her that made her life easier, she wanted to do things that rewarded her with the unguarded smile Sharon reserved just for her. The one that stretched from ear to ear and made Brenda's stomach tie up in knots. The smile that was closely fallowed by a soft hum and an even softer pair of lips pressed against her own. She definitely was a different person.
She almost dropped the dish she was holding as two warm hands wrapped softly around her middle, startling her from her thoughts. She could feel the warm breath on the back of her neck as Sharon spoke softly into her hair.
"You're going to get sick," she cautioned.
Brenda swallowed the lump in her throat as she placed the dish in her hand in the drying rack. She trailed her fingertips over the arms, running them upwards over the tender skin.
"I think I'll take my chances..."
The older woman hummed thoughtfully, drawing the younger woman closer to her body. Brenda could feel the heat that Sharon was radiating, her own breath becoming ragged.
"Good," the brunette proclaimed, "because I have missed you desperately."
At that statement Brenda smiled again and slowly turned in the brunette's arms, putting the dishtowel on the counter beside them. Sharon placed her hands on either side of the blonde, resting lightly against the counter. Brenda's smile only deepened as her lover reached up to gently trace the indents of her dimples, love and desire in every touch.
The older woman bit her lip as she looked at the blonde with eyes of deep green, so clear without her glasses. The pale color of her skin replaced by a very familiar rosy pink.
"Oh," she breathed, "and I've definitely missed those."
Unable to wait any longer, Brenda pulled Sharon forward by her arms and sighed as the brunette's head came to rest just in the crook of her neck. She felt her inhale deeply and relax into the embrace. Yes she was exposing herself, but there was no one else she'd rather be sick and miserable with.