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.


Irene rang the doorbell for the third time.

When Brenda still did not answer, she reached into her purse for her cell phone. Brenda might not always answer the door, but she always answered her cell. It rang twice.

"Johnson." Brenda answered automatically.

Not able to stifle the smile at merely hearing the other woman's voice, Irene replied. "Is there a particular reason you're leaving me standing at your front door?"

"Oh, oh… God… I'm so sorry." Brenda rambled. "I was out back and must not have heard the doorbell." The line disengaged just as the door opened, revealing a beautiful, if somewhat harried deputy chief. "Come in, come in. I hope you weren't out there too long."

Irene stood rooted to the spot, staring. "You look lovely." She breathed once she found her tongue. Depositing her cell phone back into her purse, she followed the other woman into her home. "Really," She continued once the door was shut behind them, and she leaned in for a kiss. "Really beautiful." She had never seen her boss dressed so casually, but there was something that was subtly alluring about it.

After a quick kiss, she leaned back and admired the woman trying to place her finger on what was different about her this evening. She had seen Brenda in a variety of dresses, skirt suits, blouses, certainly outfits more revealing, more seductive than what she was wearing now. But then she had been dressed for work; tonight she was dressed as simply Brenda, not the deputy chief.

"Is there something on my face?" Brenda ducked her head self-consciously and wiped the corners of her mouth.

Irene laughed and pulled her close again for another kiss. "No, no. You look beautiful." She brushed her lips first over the other woman's, then her forehead. "Just breath-taking."

"I should dress down more often then." Brenda smiled and took hold of the younger woman's hand. "You look very nice yourself."

"Thank you," Irene glanced down at the simple blue and white sundress she had picked out. "Not nearly as pretty as you. So, where are we going?"

"Follow me." Brenda smiled faintly and led her through the house, out the French doors leading onto the back patio. A table had been set in the middle of the patio with two chairs on either side. A light colored table cloth was draped over the table, with two candlesticks serving as the centerpiece. Candles had been strategically placed and lit all around the patio to provide lighting and appropriate ambience.

"Here, sit…" Brenda stopped worrying her bottom lip with her teeth and moved to pull out a chair for her lover. "I'll… I'll be right back." Once Irene was seated, she disappeared back into the house, leaving Irene to marvel at all the trouble Brenda had gone through.

There was a single flower in a vase between the two candlesticks, a red flower which she didn't have a name for. It might not be a real date to a restaurant, but it was even better. She never figured Brenda for the romantic, candle-lit dinner type.

Brenda reappeared, a plate in either hand. She set them down, then uncorked the wine bottle already on the table. First she filled Irene's glass, then hers.

"I know it's not a real date," Brenda said, unfolding her napkin into her lap. "But I wanted to do something nice for you."

Irene looked down at her plate, at the heaping pile of lasagna, and grinned. "Did you cook this?"

"Goodness, no. I could probably burn water without even trying. There's a little Italian restaurant down the street and they make the best lasagna. You do like lasagna don't you? I should have called you and asked, but I figured who doesn't like lasagna." Brenda rambled, obviously distressed.

Heart swelling in her chest, Irene reached across the table and cupped her hand over Brenda's. "It's perfect, Brenda." She stroked the back of her wrist with her thumb. "This is perfect," She gestured to the place setting with her free hand. "You're perfect."

Brenda cocked her head to the side, smiled somewhat sadly. "No, it's not." Her brow furrowed, and she squeezed Irene's hand. "If everything were perfect we could go to a restaurant together, in public, and not have to worry if someone was going to see us."

It was as if Irene's lungs were collapsing around her heart; the emotional pain she felt was tangible. She pushed her chair back and rounded the table so she could take her lover's face in both her hands and plant a throbbing kiss on her lips. She kissed her with all the passion and love that she had nursed in secret for the better part of a year. She kissed her as if afraid it would be the last.

"I don't need the restaurants or movies or public." Irene whispered, not trusting her voice. She smoothed Brenda's bangs from her brow and kissed her again. "I don't care about any of that. All I care about is you." She punctuated each sentence with another kiss. "I'm sorry if I let you think that our relationship was contingent on those things. All I really need or want is you, Brenda. Just you. Just us."

Brenda smiled up at her, their eyes meeting and locking. Pushing herself up in her chair, she planted a quick kiss to Irene's cheek, and then sunk back down. Irene wasn't sure, but her lover almost appeared on the edge of tears, but she almost always looked like that when concerned or overwrought. "Thank you, Irene. Thank you very much." She sounded more confident now, reassured. "Now why don't you sit down and eat before it gets cold."

Irene complied, but only after another brief kiss. "This looks fantastic," She picked up her fork, smiling in a way that she felt take over her whole expression, in her breast. "I didn't take you for being such a romantic."

"Well, I didn't think so either." Brenda wiped the corner of her mouth with a napkin. "But it turns out, if you watch enough Lifetime, that television channel for women, you can pick up a few handy pointers."

Irene nearly choked on her food, but managed to swallow before turning blue. "Are you serious?"

Brenda had the expression she always wore when she knew something she wasn't about to reveal. "Have you ever known to be anything else? Try the wine. I've got another bottle chilling in fridge when we finish this one."

"If I didn't know better, Chief Johnson," Irene obliged, taking a sip of the heady red wine. "I'd say you were trying to get me drunk so you could take advantage of me."

Brenda laughed, a deep throaty chuckle. "Would it hurt my chances of doing so if I said 'yes?'"

Irene smiled into her goblet of wine, studying the other woman over the rim. She pretended to mull the question over, feeling the warmth of the alcohol coupled with the warmth at the idea of the other woman taking advantage of her spread and consume her body. "Probably not," She answered finally.

Brenda shrugged as she swallowed another bite of her lasagna, covered her mouth with her napkin. "Well, then yes."

To be continued...