A Collision by Chance

(Chapter 2)

Brenda shifted, waking in a cloud of a powdery smell. Her body was unmistakeably warm, and it made her toes flex a little. It was hazy. It was simple. It made her dive right back into the warmth and fall asleep again, sure if she woke up the good feeling would end.

Sharon awoke with Brenda shifting into her side, running her toes up her calf, and palming her stomach. She could barely breathe. When she felt the lovely blonde hair trailing her arm, the softness of her cheek on her arm, she couldn't help but smile. Brenda was easily the most irritating person on the planet. Until she wasn't. And then she was the most gorgeous, dedicated, admirable woman Sharon had ever met. The most admirable woman Captain Raydor had ever met. Because their jobs defined the both of them, and Captain Raydor respected Chief Johnson in a way that she would never respect Will Pope.

It still made her sneer mentally that he narrowly escaped losing his job to Chief Johnson. Sooner or later, he was going to push the blonde Deputy Chief too far with his bullshit witch hunts, and Brenda would either quit or put him to pasture like he deserved to be. And Captain Raydor, that was soon to be Commander Raydor, fully intended for it to be him put to pasture somewhere safe - like traffic. Pope had invested too much in politics and not nearly enough in a foundation of the work ethic that made politics possible for his house of sand to continue. People like Brenda were the bedrock of the organization. She found herself kissing a warm shoulder and then was stunned.

What was she doing? Warm breasts were pressed against hers, warm toes were stroking her calf, and a sleepy hand had stolen under her shirt to touch her waist. And here she was worried about Chief Pope! By God, she needed to be worried about Chief Brenda Leigh (Oh, God, when did she become Brenda Leigh instead of Chief Johnson), then she felt a squeeze at her waist. It felt good. It felt friendly.

And it felt delicious.

Brenda Leigh felt so good next to Sharon and her powdery, lavender smell, but she had to get to work. Still, she took a risk. She pressed a small kiss to her head and then rolled out of bed, trying to find the coffee machine in a foreign household. Sharon, for her part, was paralyzed. The tiny kiss Brenda Leigh had planted on her temple seethed like acid had been placed there, bubbling and burning into her skin over time. She was sure that if she looked into the mirror, she could see the prints of that kiss. She heard Brenda making coffee in her kitchen, and struggled to take a breath.

The woman was gorgeous, in the lull of the morning light Sharon allowed herself to think it. Long legs, lips that were dying to be kissed, and snapping brown eyes that were both wise and ready to be astounded. Brenda Leigh was a contradiction and she felt herself falling to sleep again, thinking of her scent on the pillow.

"Oh Shoot." "Oh Shoot oh Shoot Oh SHOOT". Sharon sighed and drug herself out of bed, looking for her absent robe, and discovering that her slippers were missing. A bubble of ire rose up in her that the woman could take her robe, take her slippers, and fuck up her coffee pot when she had set it the night before.

She walked into the kitchen to see Brenda Leigh in her robe, in her slippers, and the coffee looked okay. She wasn't nearly as irritable at the lack of her slippers and robe. She pulled a cup from the cabinet, poured a cup and sipped. Then realized that pancake batter was spattered on every surface of her kitchen. Even the floor. Then she realized that the blender was about to possibly about erupt into a volcano in China. Brenda had pancake batter everywhere on her body, including her robe, which figured, but her beautiful, sleepy but stunned face was clear. Strawberries had burst from the blender, and now it appeared the hard won pancakes were burning.

She huffed a sigh. She couldn't even be angry. Brenda looked so morose that it just wasn't even worth chastising her about it. "Go. Take a shower, I'll get breakfast." At least the coffee was rich and dark. The blonde hung her head on the way to the bathroom in a way that made even the Captain sad. Not everyone was cut out to be in the kitchen.

Sharon cleaned up the mess, grateful for the coffee, and to her own surprise, grateful for the company. Yes, Brenda had blown up her kitchen, made a mess, but she was alive and brought life into everything. She wondered if Fritz appreciated that about her, because Sharon did. Captain Raydor certainly appreciated the life she brought to their investigations and their arguments.

Suddenly, Sharon realized something critical. Everything Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson did made her full of life, passion, anger, and yes, even delight. She laughed as she cleaned up the mess, wondering if she was losing her mind. She knew she must be when she grabbed the mop and gleefully cleaned up pancake batter while flipping a new set expertly onto a plate. She eyed the blender ruefully, then on impulse, threw the whole thing, blender and all into the trash. She wanted a new blender anyway, and that one had always been temperamental.

After arranging breakfast on a plate, she went to her room to get ready for work. When Brenda came out of the shower, she found an immaculate kitchen, and a plate of delicious pancakes. She blushed, and suddenly felt like a horse's ass for destroying the Captain's kitchen. The green-eyed woman had been so kind to her, and here she was, taking advantage of her kindness. She still had to go home but then realized she didn't have her car. After debating for a few minutes, she did what was the only thing she could do. She dived into the delicious pancakes and syrup, moaning with every bite.

She might as well enjoy them if they were the last bite of them she'd ever get. She felt a tear roll down her face as she took a sip of coffee. She wasn't even good enough for Fritzi, how would she ever be good enough for Captain Raydor? Not that she wanted, exactly, to be good enough for Captain Raydor. For Sharon, with her gorgeous green eyes, beautiful legs and a smile that could set the world on fire. Okay, maybe she did. But she wasn't. Her pancakes tasted too good, her coffee was too delicious, and she had ruined her blender this morning trying to make a smoothie.

She felt tears creep out of her eyes again. She could hear the shot ring out, as it came so close to her head that it made her ears ring, and feel the glass burst and the alcohol hit her skin. It was a miracle she didn't get cut but the glass any worse than rolling her knee in it when she took classic defensive shooting stance. She shouldn't think about it though, because she was tougher than that, and she was stronger than that. When Fritz shot the man that was about to kill her, he had impressed upon her how important it was to remember that he had saved her, and she should be grateful that he was there. He wanted her to quit to prove her gratitude.

Fritz always had a way of trying to make her remember how lucky she was to have him. Until she wasn't. Everything he did seemed to come with a price, and she had never seen that before, not until recently. Maybe that was why he was in D.C. Maybe that was why she was glad he was, and she was sitting in Sharon's kitchen eating the best pancakes she'd ever eaten.

Maybe that was why her heart grew lighter the moment she saw green eyes light up, freshly dressed and seeing her sitting there at the table with a fork in her hand. Sharon Raydor's smile made Brenda Leigh Johnson respond with one.

Sometimes, it was just that simple.