The night was beautiful. Los Angeles' scorching summer temperatures had gone down to a perfectly mild evening, the soft scent wafting from the flowers lining the deck was providing a sweet contrast to the tart wine that was coating her tongue, the company was excellent, and the chair she was curled up on was one of the more comfortable deck chair options she had sat on in a while.

If only the stars could stop spinning, the evening would be absolutely perfect, but of course that wasn't her fault.

Brenda Leigh Johnson was, for all intents and purposes, well and truly plastered.

It's not like she was the only one sitting on the deck who was three sheets to the wind; Sharon had tried to stand up and had abruptly collapsed back into her deck chair before straightening out and grabbing another bottle of wine from the fridge. But Brenda knew that her drunkenness wasn't the type that made you adorably trip over your own two feet. This was a hangover-inducing, inhibition-ridding, tongue-loosening type of drunk typically seen at frat parties or after a bad breakup, if one was going full stereotype. Brenda had never remembered being this drunk before, and especially remembered never being this drunk around Sharon Raydor, former arch-enemy and new best friend.

She also couldn't remember being this damn horny.

Sure, it wasn't like she had actually had sex with anyone since the divorce, and she honestly couldn't remember the last time she had sex with Fritz before their marriage unceremoniously imploded (and, truth be told, she was definitely not thinking of her husband being in that bed with her, that she would ever admit it). She had also not felt this absolute and utter need for sex since before the Tyrell Baylor case. Sitting on the deck, staring out at the stars and making work-talk and sweet-nothing talk while downing bottles of merlot and chardonnay with Sharon had somehow caused her libido to decide to remind her of its existence. And why wouldn't it, a little voice in the back of her mind nagged. Her friend Sharon was single, could understand her better than most people, and tonight was wearing this tight white t-shirt that showed off the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra with jeans that fit perfectly over her ass. God, Sharon had an amazing ass.

Come to think of it, Brenda had always had some sort of weakness for people who could pull off the white t-shirt and jeans combination. And currently, Sharon was in the running for first place in her own personal "looks best in a white t-shirt and jeans contest", tied only with Andy Flynn. God, Andy Flynn looked so good in that combination. And when he added his leather jacket, well, he just gave off a classic, Jersey-esque, bad boy with a heart of gold look that Brenda could only describe as yummy.

A jolt of arousal passed through her as she pictured Andy kissing Sharon's neck with both of them wearing nothing but damn blue jeans. The thought of her being the one to kiss Sharon's lips while that was happening caused her to clench her thighs together and hope Sharon couldn't see the flush that was coming across her face. And maybe she was just really, really drunk, and being drunk makes the truth come out sometimes, but she wasn't able to stop herself from blurting out what came next.

"Guess what I'm thinking!" she said, grinning mischievously and pouring Sharon another glass of chardonnay.

"What?"

"You're either going to think I'm crazy, extremely horny and looking for a post-divorce rebound, or just plain old drunk. But do you know what I think would be fun?" She paused for dramatic effect, and because Sharon's attempt at a death glare gave her the giggles, "You and me, sharing a man."

Sharon blinked owlishly. "What?"

"Oh, just think about it! Both of us are very attractive, and it's not like I would say no to sleeping with you. Plus I know we're both mostly heterosexual, at least, so a guy there would make it, I don't know, less awkward."

Sharon turned away, her lips pursed in thought. Oh please please please don't kick me out, Brenda prayed, at least be drunk enough to think I'm kidding. But Sharon turned back to her with a smirk, eyes glittering in amusement, and nodded.

"Okay, first of all I'm bisexual, not straight. You know this. And in a completely hypothetical situation, a three-way with us and a mystery man would be fun. At least, the ones I've had have always been." She winked at Brenda and the blonde couldn't tell whether or not she was being serious. Damn her "But do tell me Brenda, who in the hell would be the man in our hypothetical three-way?"

"Let's see who we know, so that's mainly the boys in the squad. Well I know who we can eliminate. Provenza is too old. Tao is married, so is Taylor, and Sanchez, though I love him, is too much like a brother to me. Morales is gayer than the Fire Island production of Rent. And Gabriel is too young."

"What about Pope?" Sharon teased, "I know you've ridden that horse before and it could get me the budget I want for the rest of my career, so it would be a win-win."

"Excuse you, I don't work for the LAPD anymore."

"Exactly," Sharon smirked, "It's a win-win for me."

"Oh…you…" Brenda sputtered angrily, and Sharon laughed. Oh, wait until I get my revenge. She turned back to the older woman and gave her a look that was the picture of innocence. "You know, there is one person who we haven't ruled out quite yet."

Sharon blinked a few times and then sat up in realization. "NO," she said forcefully, "You cannot be thinking about him."

"Why not?! He's attractive and into both of us. Plus the way he brags about his supposed prowess with women makes me think he's either lying through his teeth or he really does have good game with women. And he stares at your tits more often than I do," Brenda added, hoping that flattery would get her somewhere.

Sharon glared at her again, "While he may be attractive Andy Flynn is also a misogynistic pig who, if I recall, spent your first few years in the LAPD trying to screw you over and absolutely delights in tormenting me whenever FID has an excessive force complaint."

"Well, yes, but we've gotten past those days. Besides, I know that he's a little bit in love with me, and that you stare at his ass on occasion." Her suspicions were confirmed as Sharon choked on her wine, and Brenda victoriously polished off her glass. "So, what do you think? Do we do this or not?"

Sharon contemplated the remains of her wine before speaking. "I guess it could be fun. He does seem pretty easy going when he's not beating up suspects, or trying to pretend like he's 25 again." She finished the last dregs and continued, "And have I thought about having sex with him? Once in a while. He does have a pretty nice ass as far as I can tell. And have I thought about sex than you? Well, what woman who likes women wouldn't? But together?"

Brenda quickly downed another glass. "Oh, just think about it. It's hypothetical. It'd be fun!"

Sharon thought for a minute, then quickly poured and sipped some more chardonnay. Well, why the hell not? She knew that if the three of them were perfect strangers she wouldn't say no to sex with either of them, and even now the thought of making the blonde moan her name was extremely appealing. But still. Sleeping with her former coworker and former coworker's former subordinate gave her pause. Brenda's excitement, however, was more contagious, and Sharon found herself giggling along with the other woman. God, she's so beautiful, she thought, before speaking again, "But how in the hell would we talk him into something like this without it being awkward?"

Brenda smirked and topped off their glasses, again. "We'll figure it out, I'm sure."

Brenda groaned as she awoke to find herself on an unfamiliar brown coach. What happened last ngiht? Piece by piece, the night quickly came back. Wine. Threesomes. Blue jeans and white t-shirts. Andy. Sharon. Together. Oh, god. Brenda winced as she remembered the majority of last night's conversation, then smiled as she saw one of the objects of her thoughts approach her, dressed in her favorite jogging outfit.

"Good morning, sparkleshine," Sharon smirked as she handed Brenda a mug of much-needed coffee. "You were too drunk to make it back to your apartment, so I confiscated your keys and had to manhandle you onto the couch. I figured we could have breakfast together before you left, so I've made some pancakes already."

Brenda muttered her thanks and took a sip of her coffee, blanching as she realized Sharon had only put half as much sugar as she liked into it. Bitter, yet sobering. Exactly what Sharon would give her to get her to wake up faster and to hopefully avoid what was brought up last night.

"So, did you really mean what you said last night? That you wanted to have a three-way with me and Andy Flynn?"

Brenda sipped her coffee as she walked over to the dining room table and grabbed a stack of pancakes. "I mean. It was completely hypothetical. And we were both drunk. But now that I think about it, why wouldn't I want a threesome with you guys? All of us are single, all of us are attractive, and all of us are attracted to each other. Why the hell not? It's not like any of us are working together, and I can talk him into practically anything. When I'm sure this will happen, I'll call you so we can make this work!"

"And if he doesn't want to do this? Have you considered that possibility?" Sharon asked.

Brenda nodded, chewing on her pancakes. "I'll talk to him, he'll trust me. Don't worry, we're going to do this and have the time of our lives!"

Sharon nodded. They finished their breakfast and she led Brenda out the door, the blonde apologizing profusely for falling asleep on Sharon's couch and interrupting whatever morning plans and thanking her for the coffee and breakfast. Before she left, she leaned in to give Sharon a chaste, almost sweet, peck on the lips before nearly skipping out into the hall.

"I'll see you in your bed, Captain Raydor!" she chirped before Sharon shut the door in her face and leaned against it.

Sharon groaned.

What in the world had she gotten herself into?