Author's Note: I don't own The Closer or these characters. This is just a little holiday fun I wanted to share with my friends at TCF.
Merry Christmas!
To: TCF
From: RubyC AKA CandyRain
For the first three years she'd lived in LA, Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had walked into her Parker Center squad room on the Monday after Thanksgiving and found it teeming with bursts of holiday cheer. A small, shabby bush of a faux Christmas tree would twinkle on Lieutenant Provenza's otherwise uncluttered desk. Across the room, a tiny porcelain angel had occupied one corner of Sergeant Gabriel's desk. Lieutenant Tao's computer screensaver had featured a dancing Santa and two acrobatic elves. A garland with holly berries and matching red bows had clung to the edge of Detective Daniels' desk, a sprig of mistletoe had been suspended by fishing wire over Detective Sanchez's chair, and a smirking Grinch bobble head doll had shared Lieutenant Flynn's workspace. Not this year. This year, the squad room had looked the same on December 1st as it had on November 26th. Brenda had known that her people were different this year, changed. She had noticed the lack of laughter and the stilted conversations and had hoped that things would get better as the holidays approached, but they hadn't. Now, more than a week into December, the decorations still had not come, and Brenda had stopped hoping that they would.
Sitting back in her chair, Brenda nibbled on the tip of a ballpoint pen as she scanned her squad room through the open blinds of her office. Her eyes landed on Provenza where he sat writing at his desk. Days after Thanksgiving, the Lieutenant had suffered a severely sprained wrist while attempting to subdue a suspect. Rather than take the suggested medical leave, he had grudgingly accepted a temporary desk assignment but remained visibly dissatisfied with the lack of activity. She saw the bitterness in his face as he glowered at the retreating forms of Tao and Flynn as they exited the room on their way to interview a witness in East LA. Just as the two men reached the door, Tao stopped suddenly and dashed back to his desk. He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small English-Spanish dictionary and slipped it into his pocket. Brenda saw him frown slightly as he looked over his shoulder to Sanchez's empty desk before turning and heading back out the squad room door. As he crossed the threshold, Tao nodded to Gabriel who was entering the room. The younger man's eyes darted towards Daniels' desk as he passed. Brenda continued to watch as Gabriel pretended to be engrossed in the file he carried when Daniels turned her head towards him. She shook her head silently as she watched the two emit simultaneous sighs as one sank into his chair and the other turned back to her computer screen.
Brenda finally turned away as her phone rang. "Chief Johnson," she spoke into the receiver.
"Hi, Brenda Leigh," came the familiar drawl of her mother, Willie Ray Johnson.
"Hi, Mama. How are you?"
"I'm fine, honey. I just called to tell you I found the perfect florist for the wedding."
Brenda closed her eyes and took a deep breath before responding. "Mama, I told you Fritz and I have everything under control. You don't nee—"
"But Brenda, it's just the sweetest thing. I got your Cousin Maggie to help me get on the internet and we found this little flower shop out in LA that specializes in wedding flowers. It's run by these two sisters who inherited it from their grandmother, and their website says they did the flowers for that movie actress . . . oh, what's her name? You know the one who—"
"Ok, Mama. Fine, fine. What's the name of the flower shop? We'll check them out." Brenda found a pad and pen to jot down the name, address, and phone and fax numbers her mother recited to her, and then spent the next few minutes trying to steer the conversation away from centerpieces, dress fittings, and reception menus. "Well, alright. I've gotta get back to work now, Mama."
"Alright. I've gotta go finish my pies for Thelma and Hank's potluck anyway."
Brenda smiled. "I don't understand why you and Daddy even bother going to those anymore. He used to grouch about going every year."
"Well, your daddy doesn't know what's good for him. He misses being able to see his friends at work everyday since he retired. They all miss each other, but they're too stubborn to admit it and too lazy to do anything about it. So wives and children get together and arrange things for them. He may put on a show of being uninterested and inconvenienced, but you be sure, your father wouldn't miss this party and the chance to be with all his buddies again for anything. You should see them when they get together! As happy as clams and trying for all the world not to show it too much. People can't always ask for what they need, Brenda. Sometimes it's up to the rest of us to figure it out for them and make sure they get it."
Blonde curls swayed as Brenda sat up straighter in her chair. "'What they need,'" she mumbled to herself.
"What, dear?"
"Nothing, Mama," Brenda replied. "You go ahead and finish your pies. I'll talk to you later."
"Okay. Bye now. Love you."
"Love you, too, Mama. Bye-bye." Brenda quickly pressed the disconnect button, and then hit the first speed-dial button on her phone. "Fritz. I was thinking . . . ."
oooooooooo
"Now, what exactly brought on this flash of inspiration?" Fritz asked that night as he buttered a wheat roll.
"I was talking to my mother and she mentioned this Christmas party that she and Daddy go to every year since he retired. Daddy always hems and haws about how the party is just a waste of time and money, and how he'd rather not go, but today Mama was talking about how much he actually enjoys it. It just made me think it might be something for me to try. Just . . . to cheer everyone up, I guess. They all seem so sad this year."
"And you think this will work?" Fritz smiled. "That they'll actually go for it?" Brenda nodded earnestly as she chewed a broccoli floret. He continued, his skepticism obvious. "Provenza? Flynn? And will we even have time with all the wedding stuff?"
Brenda swallowed. "We can stick with the potluck thing, so that will cut down on the work for us, and I know they aren't always the most cooperative or easy-going crew. They don't always handle change well, but I think I can convince them. They—we—need this, something fun, exciting. It's been a r– a rough year." She coughed to disguise the cause of her faltered speech, but Fritz had seen the moisture gathering at the corners of her eyes. He reached across the table for her hand.
"What do you need me to do?" he asked.
oooooooooo
"What is this, Chief?" Flynn asked as he held up the small red envelope Brenda had handed him.
"Why don't you open it and see, Lieutenant," Brenda answered, her smile not quite big enough to be reassuring. She continued around the room handing identical red envelopes to the other members of the Major Crimes Division. She got a nod from Provenza and a smile of thanks from Daniels before Flynn spoke again.
"A potluck?"
"Yes, Lieutenant." Brenda moved on to Gabriel, then Tao.
"I don't cook," Flynn continued.
"Well, you can bring the sparkling cider. Or buy a dessert."
"Look, Chief, I'm sure this little get together of yours will be full of fun and holiday festiveness, but I don't do . . . ." He let the statement drop as he made a pained face.
"Lieutenant Flynn, I just—I, ah, I wanted to do something for you, all of you," she turned to look at the others. "It's just a little something to show you all how much I appreciate all of your hard work this year. Fritz and I are gonna provide most of the food, but I thought it might be nice if we all shared a dish that's traditional for each of us." Not sure that they were convinced, she added quickly, "My Mama's sending fudge."
Flynn still looked reluctant, "I don't—"
"Can it, Flynn!" Provenza barked. "If I can figure out a way to cook with one hand, then you can get to a bakery and pick up a damn cheesecake! He'll be there, Chief. Me, too." Provenza's pronouncement was followed by a chorus of similar responses from the rest of the squad.
Brenda beamed as Buzz walked into the squad room. "Chief, I have the transcription of that wiretap you asked for."
"Why thank you, Buzz," she took the file he held out. "I have something for you, too," she said handing him his own red envelope.