Chapter 4 Rating: **M**
Trigger Warning for grief & dying in effect
"There is a design, an alignment to cry
Of my heart to see,
The beauty of love as it was made to be"
Staring aimlessly out the window, Brenda began her countdown. In exactly 4 hours and 14 minutes (according to that usually handy, but now just incredibly foreboding GPS) she'd be pulling into her parent's driveway. Scratch that, her father's driveway. As an adult, she'd never exactly looked forward to going home, mostly because she was guaranteed a lecture (or ten) about her career choice, lack of children, and general lackadaisical attitude toward anything non-murder related. There was always apprehension, even a little fear, about another visit that would inevitably end with her parent's disappointment over some standard she hadn't quite lived up to. Of course she loved her parents very deeply, they'd gone above and beyond more times then she could count. When she'd first found out about Will's marriage, her mother had paid the rather exorbitant price for the next available flight to DC, assuring her completely heartbroken daughter they'd figure it out. Then there'd been the dissolution of her first marriage, they'd silently supported her as her name was dragged through the Atlanta mud. Brenda knew this trip would be different however, quieter, and as much as she'd mentally prepared, she couldn't seem to shake the dread.
If the blonde hadn't let out the occasional sigh, Sharon was sure she'd seriously begin to question if Brenda was still breathing in the passenger seat. They'd said almost nothing to each other since waking up, packing, and beginning the four-hour trek to Atlanta. The brunette was getting nervous, starting to feel like she'd begun to tread in murky waters without the faintest idea of what Brenda was thinking. In her periphery, she noticed the younger woman wipe away a tear, then another, attempting to hide her slight outpouring of emotion. However much Sharon had felt over the past few days paled in comparison to the ache settling in her chest. Falling for the blonde had taken mere moments there first night together. In fact, as acutely self-aware as the Captain was, she could admit she'd been in love with Brenda much before they'd teetered the 'just friends' line. Where the brunette was nervous, always cautious, never wanting to make a ripple – Brenda cannon-balled off the high dive, recklessly careening toward whatever she desired. This emotional, scared, shell of the woman sitting in the passenger seat was frightening and incredibly heartbreaking. And for the first time in a long time, Sharon wanted to be somewhere, anywhere other than here with the blonde. Not because she didn't care, in fact she cared more than she could express. But seeing Brenda so fragile, guarded – it was almost breaking the older woman. A sob threatened to bubble over and she concentrated on keeping the emotions at bay. Losing someone close was a horrible experience; the pain never seemed to disappear, always gnawing away in one's subconscious. Watching someone you love become totally absorbed in that pain, allowing it to overtake them, sometimes that was even harder.
Sharon had buried her own mother years before. It'd been one of those defining, life-altering moments that forced her to officially grow up – but it hadn't killed her. There were still days when she missed that fiery red-head, who seemed to understand Sharon better than she knew herself, but she'd realized this was part of the circle of life so to speak. What'd broken her, almost completely, was her ex-husband's premature death. While they'd been separated for the better part of 4 years, he'd still been the father of her children. Being forced to watch her daughters come to terms, rationalize their father's early demise had ripped her heart wide open. Maybe loss wasn't always the worst part? After all, death was part of life – it was easy to comprehend in bigger picture terms. Perhaps it was watching those you loved deeply suffer immense pain, having no reasonable way to comfort them. She couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at the prospect of the next 24 hours, considering the two were still on shaky relationship ground. How much would the blonde want her around? Would things be awkward now that they were heading toward real life and out of the bubble this road trip had momentarily created? Sharon didn't like feeling out of control, leaving things ambiguous and unclear. But now wasn't really the time…
Exactly 3 hours and 47 minutes later (the Captain did have quite the lead foot, much to the younger woman's surprise), they pulled up to that familiar southern country-style home, complete with wrap around porch. While rather modest in size compared to others on the block, Sharon couldn't help but notice its homey, almost rustic feel. Obviously this house had seen it's fair share of love.
"This is it," announced the blonde, still very preoccupied with her thoughts.
"Wow, it's beautiful."
The younger woman flashed a half-smile and exited the car, popping open the truck for their bags. Rolling her eyes, the brunette got out, hoping things would eventually become less awkward. Maybe there was a manual for these types of situations? She'd have to peruse her kindle later.
"Hey, come here." Sharon stepped between the younger woman and the trunk, extending her arms for a hug. While she wasn't sure exactly how to make the obviously uncomfortable Brenda feel better, she figured a little personal contact might be a start.
Brenda allowed herself to relax into the brunette's embrace, nuzzling into the crook of her neck, which she'd recently begun to regard fondly as 'her spot'. But just as quickly as they'd begun, the younger woman pulled away. There were still a variety of things she needed to accomplish before they boarded their flight to LA tomorrow afternoon – and there was no time like the present.
"Are you okay?" Sharon lightly touched the blonde's arm as she pulled out the last of their bags from the trunk.
"Yeah Sharon, I'm fine."
"You don't seem very fine."
"I'll be okay. Come on, let's throw our things inside and we'll go grab some lunch."
Sharon couldn't help but smirk as the blonde's accent seemed to thicken with every passing moment, practically oozing southern belle as she responded 'yes ma'am, just two' to the hostess. Sliding into a booth, the brunette grabbed a menu and began perusing her cholesterol shocking options. Chicken fried steak, was that a misprint? After placing their order (fried chicken, mashed potatoes, cornbread, and black-eyed peas for Brenda, a much more modest chicken sandwich and salad for the older woman), Sharon snuck a hand out to cup the blonde's. While the Captain usually wasn't one for PDA, she needed a little reassuring contact from her companion. Even though things had seemed relatively normal since they'd arrived in Atlanta, she couldn't quite shake the fear that'd formed in the pit of her stomach during the morning drive.
"So we've got about 24 hours in Atlanta. What did you want to do?"
"I talked to Daddy and he told me I should try goin' through some stuff in the attic, see if I'm interested in keepin' anything of Mama's. Gettin' the car here was most important, so I didn't really have much of a plan after." Brenda had begun drawing invisible patterns on the table with her free hand, avoiding the brunette's gaze. Obviously not interested in continuing the subject, Sharon directed the conversation toward a more superficial topic – not wanting to push too much, not yet. Settling into tales of Brenda's early years, the older woman began to feel the tension of the morning drive dissipate slightly. She was more than content watching the blonde point out and describe in ridiculous detail where she'd received her first kiss from Billy Truman, star running back of the high school football team. The rest of their late lunch continued at this same pace, Brenda dramatically describing some childhood antidote and Sharon attempting not to wet herself at some of the more over the top stories. It all felt so comfortable, casually sitting, laughing together, occasional light touch.
Arriving back at the house, Sharon set off to find some drinks (hopefully something with alcohol, but she'd settle for sweet tea, worse case - assuming their was some vodka to spike it) allowing the blonde a chance to begin rifling through the attic. Apparently, if Brenda's parent's liquor cabinet was any indication, the younger woman's Merlot habit could be traced back to Atlanta and one Willie Rae Johnson. The brunette hit the jackpot, so to speak, and was perusing a variety of labels and years for the better part of a half hour before settling on an Australian vintage, circa 1999, hopeful that it was a good year for the grapes down under. Uncorking the bottle, she produced two glasses from a rack above and headed back toward the collapsible ladder. Rounding the corner, she could hear the blonde sniffling and almost immediately ditched the stemware and bottle on the closest flat surface, bolting up into the attic at lightening speed. Brenda was frozen, staring at the pictures littering the floor in front of her. While the tears were flowing, the blonde seemed almost entranced by the memories, not even noticing the older woman as she ascended into the space. Sharon hesitated, unsure whether to leave her alone or provide some sort of comfort. Going with gut instinct, she chose the latter, practically hurling her body into Brenda's and enveloping her in a fierce embrace. Apparently this was the correct decision, almost immediately the younger woman released a deafening sob, burying her head into brunette waves. For a few moments they just sat, Sharon whispering soothing words, attempting to calm the broken woman in her arms.
"She's gone, what am I suppose to do now? What is Daddy suppose to do…" The blonde managed to get out in a shaky breath before resuming her place, tucked away in the older woman's shoulder.
While Sharon enjoyed a good pity party every so often and understood that this was an incredibly trying experience for anyone, the blonde needed to get a grip - let it all out and start picking up the pieces. It wasn't healthy to continue to ruminate with the 'What ifs.' She grabbed Brenda's cheeks, effectively forcing her out of hiding to look at the older woman.
"Brenda Leigh, it will be okay. Not today, not tomorrow, but eventually this will get easier, I promise. It just takes time. You still have so many people who care about you, that love you…" Sharon froze, she hadn't exactly meant for the last sentence to come out that way. Of course, she did care about the blonde. In fact, she could admit she loved her. But this really wasn't the time to exchange those types of sentiments - now was about Brenda "Why don't you tell me something about your mom, something you really loved about her?"
"I dunno, I don't think that'll really help…" Brenda laid her head down in the Captain's lap, suddenly exhausted.
"Just try it. Sometimes its good to focus on the positive," Sharon murmured as she began running her fingers through blonde curls, occasionally whipping away a stray tear from the younger woman's cheek.
Brenda thought for a minute, closing her eyes and sifting through the variety of great qualities her late mother possessed. After a few moments, she answered without hesitation, "She always did the right thing."
"Anything else?"
"She loved me, even when I was makin' terrible decisions. Sometimes she'd pester me to no end about gettin' a safer job or movin' home, but I knew it was cuz she loved me and didn't want to see me get hurt." Brenda turned her head, meeting green eyes above.
"Did you ever tell her how you felt?"
"Well – I told her I loved her. I never really thought about tellin' her all that other stuff…"
"Now seems like as good a time as any. Come on, I'll drive." Sharon pushed the younger woman's head from her lap, forcing her into a sitting position. Extending a hand, she helped them both to their feet.
"Are you sure this is a good idea?"
"No, but it can't get much worse. I do know that sometimes it's hard to hold everything in that you should have said, would have said if you had the time. Just trust me, okay?"
Sharon pulled the car up alongside that familiar magnolia tree, a spot Willie Rae and Clay had set aside long ago for their eternal resting place. Excusing herself to a bench a few hundred yards away, she gave the blonde some time, assuring her she'd be within reach if necessary. Brenda let her fingertips graze the cool marble, outlining the words inscribed across the stone.
Willie Rae Johnson
September 10, 1929 – July 30, 2012
Generous of heart, constant of faith
"Hi Mama," she began tentatively, sitting cross-legged in front of the headstone, feeling more awkward then relieved – considering she was talking to a slab of marble. But she trusted Sharon, she hadn't steered her wrong before and anything was worth a try.
"I just wanted to say a few things, considerin' I was never really great at tellin' you how I felt. I know I wasn't the best daughter. Hell, I don't think I was even an okay daughter most of the time. We were just so different in a lot of ways. You loved talkin' on the phone and gossipin' about the neighbors and all I wanted was to hang up aand get back to my murders. But no matter what, I couldn't have asked for a more wonderful, lovin', beautiful person to look up to. And I did, I looked up to you and Daddy – I still do. And I'm sorry I couldn't get the marriage thing right, but I'm tryin'. It's soon, but I think I might have found someone who's gonna make me real happy. Sharon, you remember her? My friend? Well, she's the one who got me to come here, to realize how much I needed to tell you that I loved you," Brenda confessed, chewing at her lip to distract herself from the sob threatening to bubble up. She'd done enough crying and it'd always been Willie Rae who'd told her daughter that sometimes life didn't always give you what you wanted, but there was no use crying about it. After a few silent minutes replaying some of their happier moments, she felt like things might eventually be alright. "Well I'm gonna go, but I promise I'll come visit and make time for you and Daddy."
Brenda got up, giving the stone a final light trace with her fingertips, and headed toward the bench. As much as she'd doubted Sharon's idea initially, the older woman had been right. It was still hard to think about her mother's death, but she felt a bit better knowing she'd gotten a few things off her chest, the important things at least. Sharon rose to meet her, throwing her arms around Brenda and pulling her in as tightly as she could manage. Dropping a kiss on the blonde's head she pulled away, allowing their eyes to meet.
"Are you okay?"
"Actually, I feel a little better. Maybe you were right, I guess I just needed to say a few things..." Brenda began idly stroking the older woman's side, drawing invisible pictures.
"Sharon Raydor? Right for once? How did that taste coming out?" The older woman couldn't help but flash that signature smirk.
"A little like bile – but I'll get over it. Thank you, for comin' with me, for doin' all this."
"Of course I'd come with you, Brenda Leigh. I'll always be there when you need me."
"Always? Promise?" Brenda was feeling a little raw and she desperately needed reassurance that Sharon wouldn't leave her like everyone else.
"Always."
"My crazy won't scare you away?"
"I'm pretty sure your crazy can't be any worse than mine," deadpanned the Captain.
"Ain't that the truth. Come on, let's go get somethin' to eat. I know this really great pizza place down the street. And lease don't tell me your crazy includes weird, all healthy pizza toppings, we might not work out long-term." Brenda grabbed for the brunette's hand, leading her back toward the car.
"Do you have any serious concerns surrounding onions, pineapple, or ham?"
"All acceptable. I think we may be a perfect match after all…"
One large, onion, pineapple, ham, and hot pepper pizza later, the two women were curled up on the couch with a 1997 California Merlot. Pleasantly buzzed and rather full, Brenda decided it was time to have a discussion. After the last day, it was incredibly clear what she wanted, who she needed to remain in her life. They'd be back in California by this time tomorrow and she had to understand what this was, where two of them were heading. Slowly extracting herself from the warmth of Sharon's lap, she turned to face the older woman, taking a hand in her own.
"I wanna talk to you about somethin'," Brenda confessed, unable to meet the brunette's gaze - nervous about the possible rejection. Instead she focused on the topography of Sharon's hands, lightly tracing knuckles and bone.
"Okay."
"What are we doin', you and me?"
"Currently we're drinking wine and watching some horrible cable. I mean, honestly, when did television become such trash…"
"Not what I mean."
Sharon took a deep breath. Obviously this conversation had to happen, she'd just hoped it wouldn't be tonight. The older woman was perfectly fine just allowing things to progress. Putting a label on something so complicated seemed rather unnecessary and almost frightening. Ever so slowly, the bubble they'd created over the past few days was beginning to pop and Sharon was unsure how they'd make this work once adding in their jobs, family, and hectic schedules. Not to mention, the rules surrounding office dating. What if Brenda didn't want the same things? What did she even want? Looking back over the past few days, she wasn't sure of much – but she did know she'd do practically anything to continue waking up with an arm around the blonde. So maybe that was it, she wanted the relationship, the morning breath, late night love making, cooking for two, and weekends at Lake Tahoe (well maybe not the skiing part – did Brenda even ski? It was hard to imagine the clumsy Chief not careening into a tree or taking out a small child). There was only one small hiccup in the plan, she was 99.9% sure Brenda had never been with a woman. Obviously there was an attraction between the two, one that the blonde actively seemed to reciprocate. But an attraction didn't always translate into relationship making material. What if Sharon threw it all out there and the younger woman effectively shut her down? Not only would they lose whatever this was, but it could forever damage or even demolish the friendship they'd achieved after so many years of animosity and fighting. The brunette's head was spinning, her brain attempting to keep up with the onslaught of thoughts surrounding this delicate situation
"Can you stop thinkin' and analyzin' the situation for one second and just tell me how you feel."
"Says the CIA trained investigator…"
"Sharon, I'm serious. If you not gonna talk then I will." In one quick roll, Brenda perched herself on the brunette's lap, closing the distance. "A lot happened over these past couple days – good, bad, somewhere in the middle. And all I know is without you, I'd have lost it. I don't know that there's an easy answer, but I do know that I want to wake up next to you. I don't care about the rulebook or all the other excuses you've got whirlin' around in that pretty little brain of yours." Brenda brought their lips together for a passionate kiss, trying to convey all the feelings she still couldn't quite verbalize. She'd meant what she said, without Sharon there was no possible way she could have gotten through all this. And somehow, during one of the worst times of her life, she'd fallen for someone that challenged her, pushed her to pick herself up by the boot straps and continue living.
"So what are you thinkin'?"
Sharon brought their foreheads together, placing a light kiss on the blonde's nose. "I don't know about throwing away the rulebook just yet, but I guess we could give it a try," she smirked. Almost immidiately, she felt the blonde's hands snaking inside her shirt, palming a breast, tweaking her already pebbling nipple, and moaned at the contact. In one swift motion she devised Brenda of her tank top, pleasantly surprised to find no bra underneath.
"Looks like someone thought they might be getting lucky," husked the brunette, tracing nonsense patterns over the expanse of bare skin.
"I was hopin'"
Bringing their lips together, she flipped the blonde, pinning her down against the couch. Brenda grabbed for the hem of the older woman's shirt, pulling it over her head before latching back onto the brunette's lips. Sharon let her hands wander over the Chief's incredibly toned body, before resting them on her hips – lightly scratching at blonde curls below.
"Inside me, Sharon. I need you inside me," Brenda managed to sputter out between a moan.
While Sharon usually enjoyed being a tease in the bedroom, she'd been waiting far too long for this moment. Shoving a hand down and inside the blonde's sweatpants, she circled Brenda's already soaking entrance with one hand before thrusting two fingers inside, setting a slow, lazy rhythm, thumb lightly stroking the hood of Brenda's clit. She was going for a deliberate build, taking her time to explore the spongy walls of Brenda's center, learning exactly what would make her squirm, drive her crazy. The younger woman keened at the onslaught of sensation, enjoying the fluttering of muscles before beginning to match Sharon's stroke with a cant of her hips, brushing their lips together for a needy kiss. Sharon cupped Brenda's breast with her free hand, pinching her nipple. This was beyond anything the blonde had imagined, Sharon's hands fit so perfectly inside her – and it wasn't long before the brunette found Brenda's elusive spot, crooking her finger slightly the left. The younger woman let out a scream, "Yes baby, right there." Sharon smirked, repeating her previous thrust, rubbing the spot again. A hard pinch to her nipple sent the blonde over the edge, internal muscles clenching around Sharon's fingers. As Brenda came down from her high, the brunette remained inside her, enjoying the squeeze and providing the younger woman with enough pressure clamp down on, producing a few light aftershocks. Slowly, she removed her finger, eliciting a hiss from one blissed out Brenda. Resting between the blonde and the back of the couch, Sharon listened to Brenda's breath return to normal.
Once she'd come back to herself, Brenda threw a leg over Sharon – maneuvering her body so they were facing each other. "I think that's the first time I've ever really enjoyed you goin' first. But don't make it a habit…"
"I wouldn't dare."
"Come on baby, let's go to bed. We've gotta get up early and I've still got some plans for you and me this evenin'…"
A/N: After all that angst, I figured some cute times were necessary. Big up's to 'Barton Hallow' by The Civil Wars for providing a lovely backdrop while writing my first foray into the sexy times world. I realize it was short, but I'm just getting my bearings, trying it out for size. Any feedback would be just lovely, even though I know it's super awkward to comment. Next chapter will finish this crazy road trip up, I hope you've enjoyed it. xoxo