A/N: My endless apologies! I never meant for this update to take so long, I swear! (It's not even long enough to have warranted such an ungodly hiatus.) But here it is; feedback as always will be greatly appreciated!
"Captain –" Flynn called exasperatedly. He followed her out, matching pace, and pulled her aside before she could reach the interview room. "Just let her work it out, FID doesn't need to get involved!"
"Detective Gabriel seems to think otherwise, and I'm inclined to agree with him! If Chief Johnson is assaulting suspects it automatically triggers a Use of Force investigation. And you very well know that that is my jurisdiction."
"He's not a suspect, he's her ex-husband, and a slimy motherf-"
"Lieutenant," Sharon warned.
"Okay. Sorry. But if you would just look the other way for – for ten minutes, I guarantee you that the Chief will have this issue taken care of, and you won't have any paperwork whatsoever!"
"Not while she's on company time, Flynn." Sharon shook her head. "Getting into it here, at the office, of all places . . ."
"That was not her fault. C'mon, Sharon," Flynn begged. "For me? We used to be partners, you know!"
"Why does this matter so much to you?" She asked curiously. She wanted to know. If he was playing the we-used-to-be-partners card he had to be awfully desperate.
Flynn straightened and looked her in the eye. "I like the Chief. I respect her. That son of a bitch doesn't, and probably never did, but she's standing up for herself in there! And I don't think that should be denied to her. Do you?" He knew she understood from personal experience.
Sharon sighed. She ran her fingers through her hair. "No, I don't, Flynn. But if she's going to punch someone in the face in a police station – where she happens to work, I might add – she had to know that I'd be all over that! It's my job," she stressed. He waited for her to come to a decision.
She considered Flynn for a moment. "Alright, Lieutenant." She said finally. "Ten minutes, that's it. And then I'm coming right back down here."
He grinned and squeezed her arm affectionately. "You're a good woman, Sharon. Even if most people can't see past the chilly work façade."
She rolled her eyes. "Right, well don't tell anyone; I have a reputation to uphold." Her stilettos clacked against the tiles as she walked away. Over her shoulder, she called, "Oh yeah, but don't forget: Pope's on his way down here. Sorry." She added, and meant it. But what was done couldn't be undone – she'd be back to curb the damage later, anyway.
"Wait, where're you going?" Flynn exclaimed after her, sounding newly distressed. "If you called him down here you've got to help me weather him out! You're gonna be coming back in ten minutes anyway; where could you possibly be going?"
She rounded the corner and headed towards their break room, rolling her eyes. And what did he expect her to do during those ten minutes, make small talk with him? Please. She didn't do small talk. She'd much rather raid their fridge, perhaps pour herself another coffee, and maybe catch the tail end of Days of Our Lives.
"Someone fill me in." Pope announced as he swept into the already-beyond-capacity tech room and nearly fell on top of Taylor. Everyone blinked at him, and no one spoke. Seven heads swiveled in Gabriel's direction. He crossed his arms and shook his head fervently.
"Nuh-uh. No way you guys are gonna make me explain this all over again – I already did it once for Raydor! It's someone else's turn." He insisted.
"I don't care who, just somebody tell me what's going on here! Are we going to have another lawsuit on our hands?" Pope demanded impatiently. Silence. "Ah, for Christ's –" he turned his eyes heavenward, and muttered under his breath.
"Well . . . it might not escalate that far, sir." Buzz offered, warily eyeing their Acting Chief of Police. "You see," he continued hurriedly as Pope turned the glare his way, "Chief Johnson's ex-husband came by, and was harassing her, and . . . andthenshepunchedhim." Buzz finished much the same way Gabriel had only a few minutes before. Everyone cringed in collective anticipation of Pope's imminent explosion. He didn't disappoint.
"SHE WHAT?" He roared.
"Maybe the question should be 'he what'," Buzz muttered.
"She punched him." Provenza said slowly, as if talking to a particularly dim-witted child.
"No, Lieutenant, THANK YOU, I do not need you to repeat it. It's bad enough to hear once!" Pope snapped.
"We had to tell it twice, and witness it happening." Gabriel muttered in the corner, too low for Pope to hear.
"This is great. Just great. Exactly what this division needs – a fresh-opened FID investigation on allegations of police brutality." He snarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. "And her ex-husband, no less. Of all the people to show up here . . ."
Pope could feel the beginnings of a migraine coming on. In all honesty, he was more pissed off at the fact that he'd be spending the rest of the day refereeing another Raydor/Johnson showdown than he was at any possibilities of police brutality – the two women together were like animals. (He forcibly shuttered his mind against visions of the Captain and Brenda circling each other in a boxing ring, clad in shiny pleather Catwoman suits. He needed to focus.) For someone who so obviously hated dealing with her, Brenda sure managed to ensnare herself in a hell of a lot of Raydor-involving incidents.
For him, that always seemed to equate a full blown headache and a semi hard-on. I hate my job, I hate my job, I hate my job –
"Where's the Captain?" He asked. Better to get this whole mess over with.
Taylor hiked his thumb over his shoulder. "It looked like she was headed for the interview room. Flynn went after her though; tried to stop her before you got here. Can't say if he was successful or not." He was utterly unconcerned either way. Will left the room.
Will didn't know the first thing about Brenda's former marriage. In all the time he'd known her, the fact never really even gelled in his mind that Brenda had, in fact, been married before. Well, before she'd moved to LA, and after their affair in DC. By that time, she'd already moved back to Atlanta, and it wasn't like they'd bothered to keep in touch. She'd been trying to forget him, and he'd already forgotten her.
He mulled this over as he marched down the hallway when a sleek pair of legs caught his eye. He backpedaled and poked his head into the spacious break room. "Captain Raydor." She was sitting with her legs up on the tabletop, chair slightly tipped back, an apple in one hand, remote in the other. Her eyes were glued to the TV mounted on the wall: Days of Our Lives. Pope had to call her name again. She started, and after twisting round to see who it was, turned off the TV and swung her feet to the floor.
"Chief Pope – there you are." She tossed the half-eaten fruit in the trash bin and marched out without waiting to see if he'd follow her.
Sharon led him away from the interview rooms and babbled at him – she didn't know what about, and was pretty sure he didn't either, considering she was talking about a mile a minute and stalling for the time she'd promised Flynn. She glanced at her watch. You get two more minutes, Flynn. Pope struggled to keep up with her brisk pace and the erratic nonsense spewing from her mouth, still too confused to do any more than that.
She speed-walked an elongated circuit around the entire floor before leading Pope back towards the interview rooms and an antsy Flynn.
"Captain, what is going on, here? What was that for?" He demanded in exasperation, panting slightly. Raydor walked ridiculously fast for someone in heels and with seemingly no purpose in mind.
She hardly batted an eye. "It's a part of my daily exercise regimen, Chief. I'd heard about your recent weight-loss mission and I thought you might appreciate it."
Flynn struggled to keep his laughter in check.
Pope stared at her as if she'd grown an extra head. "There is a time and place for that sort of thing, Captain Raydor, and I think it is quite obvious that this is not it!"
Sharon nodded, looking appropriately chastened, and threw a brief glance in Flynn's direction. The look clearly said: you so owe me. Indeed he did.
"She's in here, Chief." He said, gesturing towards the interview room door. They weren't shouting anymore but that could have meant any number of things, not all of them necessarily good.
Pope sighed. "Thank you, Lieutenant; Captain – with me." He knocked and entered at the same time, Sharon hot on his heels. She stumbled right into him when he stopped abruptly.
"Chief Johnson!"
