Title: Conduct Unbecoming
Pairing: Brenda Leigh Johnson/Irene Daniels
Disclaimer: Oh if only I were so blessed. But I'm not. Not mine.
A/N: I am appalled by the steaming lack of the Closer femslash. So I rectified the situation.
The last thing Brenda Leigh Johnson wanted was comfort.
That was why she had opted for drinks with the squad rather than go home to Fritz or stay and talk to Pope. She knew exactly what they would say, precisely how they would act. That was why she declined Detective Gabriel's offer to drive her home. The familiar was so blandly predictable, so woefully incomparable to what she was feeling.
She knew how Fritz would encircle her with his massive arms, how the fabric of his suit would feel against her cheek when he held her to his body. She knew how he would smell, what he would say. He would tell her that he never any doubts that the charge of "conduct unbecoming" would be dismissed, never worried for a second that she might lose her job, entertained any concerns that her reputation might be soiled or she'd be publically humiliated. She knew he would kiss her and they'd fall into bed in a tangle of naked limbs and sweat. She also knew he would keep his socks on while they fucked.
Brenda did not want that. The mere thought of how Fritz would behave made her want to scream. Pope and Gabriel would have acted in a similar fashion, minus the kissing and sweat and socks. She did not want to go through the motions. She didn't want their perfunctory reassurances because they meant nothing to her. Because not one of them was actually interested in what she was feeling, none of them would take the time to listen to her.
That was why she opted to ride home with Daniels.
Daniels was an unwavering constant, always in the background of their cases but always prepared with the latest information. Daniels was dependable and straightforward. She never laced the investigation with unnecessary personal opinions or details. Above all, Daniels was honest.
It was in her eyes, every time they met. It was a quiet, subtle pain. It wasn't the outright pathetic regret that was so easily readable in Pope's eyes; this was both different and similar simultaneously. The hurt and affection in the dark skinned woman's eyes was evident; but it was testament to her character that went unspoken.
One thing Brenda was not, was stupid. It was her job to be observant. In fact, the CIA had spent God only knew how much money training her to hone that very skill, to pick up on subtle cues and read people's expression. She was an interrogator; the majority of her job was done once she had studied a person, read their personalities through their faces, the way they listened or held their hands.
She knew how Daniels felt about her to an extent, but she also knew that because of those feelings that Daniels would never lie to her.
So when she slumped into the passenger's seat of Daniels dark sedan, she allowed her exhaustion to show through.
"Where to, Chief?" Daniels asked.
"It doesn't matter." Brenda sighed and leaned on the center console, burying her face in her hand. She felt gravity of the day settle in on her just like the weight of tears weighing behind her eyes. "Just drive."
The car rumbled to life as Daniels turned the key in the ignition. "I don't know where your house is, Chief." The younger woman said, obviously trying to hedge the nervousness out of her voice.
Brenda straightened immediately, feeling as if Daniels had just threatened her. "I don't want to go home." That was the last place she wanted to go. They rode in silence, Daniels concentrating on driving without a destination. Inhaling deeply, she turned her eyes on the road without really seeing it. "I didn't think I was going to have a job tomorrow." She confessed.
"We weren't going to let that happen, Chief." Daniels responded vehemently, not denying that it had been a possibility. "Besides, we heard what you told the district attorney and the FBI and Captain Taylor. I wish I could have been there to see their faces."
The smile in Daniels's voice, the memory of the stunned faces of the DA, the FBI, and that pompous ass Captain Taylor coaxed a chuckle from Brenda. "Well, Pope said to apologize. He didn't say for what." After that, she laughed and glanced over at the detective. Silhouetted by the pale orange city lights, Daniels was striking, beautiful even. "I am grateful for what y'all did, for what the squad did. Probably saved my job."
As if the next movement was equitable to a life or death choice, Brenda rested her hand on Daniels's arm right below the bend of her elbow. The younger woman's muscle tensed reflexively and then relaxed. Even so, Brenda could still feel the strength in that arm, the taut muscle under skin that must be impossibly smooth.
For the first time that she could remember, Brenda felt her heart rapidly drumming against her rib cage, the blood pulsing through her body, heard the blood rushing in her ears. It was a delicious feeling. She wondered if Daniels was experiencing a similar feeling.
"I… we all respect you. A lot." Was all Daniels managed to say. She had been about to speak again when Brenda noticed the rapidly approaching traffic light.
"You know, in Atlanta, red means stop." Brenda commented casually.
"What?" The other woman appeared confused, but did not break eye contact.
Under any other circumstances, Brenda would have been happy to search the gentle brown eyes of the other woman, or admire her full lips, or trace the gentle furrows in her brow as she frowned. But unless she wanted to spend what remained of the night with LAPD's traffic department… "The light is red." She looked away and pointed ahead of them.
The brakes squealed in protest as Daniels slammed her foot down to the floorboard. "Sorry, Chief." Daniels apologized, abashed.
Hiding the somersaults her stomach was churning well, she nodded easily. It's alright, Detective." She glanced over at Daniels, who was still expelling a gasp of relief from the barely avoided wreck.
This was her moment. It was now or go home to forced normalcy. Using her hand on Daniels's arm as the fulcrum, she levered herself out of her seat and stopped just short of the other woman's lips. She could very well be risking her job. Again. But she wanted and needed to feel.
Brenda squeezed her eyes closed and kissed Daniels. She tried to convey everything she felt in that kiss with her lips and tongue in a way speaking never could. When the younger woman responded, she felt the world and any lingering doubt dissipate.
This was what she needed. Daniels's hands on her sides, pulling her closer. The soft crush of full lips on hers. The heat of the other woman's breath against her neck. The faint, musky hint of beer on her tongue. It was real. Daniels kiss was unforgiving and unapologetic. It wasn't forced or fake. It was visceral and free of the taint obligation left.
She kissed Daniels with a feral abandon that she had never experienced before with anyone. She felt it against her lips, in her chest, in her gut all at the same time. It was still not enough, she wanted to be closer, feel more of the young woman beneath her. Her hands roamed, needing more; her body flexed, pushing into Daniels and it was still not enough. She could not imagine letting go, of stopping.
Until some asshole leaned on his horn, abruptly yanking both women back to reality. Automatically, Brenda fell back onto her seat and groaned inwardly, cursing the green light ahead of them. Instinctively, she threw her arm up, middle finger extended for the benefit of the impatient asshole behind them.
Brenda felt an uneasy emptiness at the abrupt loss of contact. It was almost a queasiness that replaced the unhindered emotion. She wanted to weep until Daniels's hand bumped her own, attempting to flip the same driver off. She had to laugh or faced crying as an alternative. "Well, it's good to know we think alike." She said softly.
Daniels licked her lips; Brenda watched as the tip of her tongue languished on her lower lip for all to brief a moment. "Where to?"
"You decide," Brenda said, more than a bit hopefully.
The bright smile that lit up Daniels's features caused her heart to skip. "I know just the place."
There was no point to inquiring as to their destination, Daniels would not tell her. In fact, Brenda did not want to know where they were going. She relished not knowing.
She knew that with Daniels, it would be anything but predictable.