First Senior Officers Meeting
Sharon's viewpoint
I groaned as I dragged myself out of bed. I can do mornings, mostly, even early ones, but I hate Thursday mornings.
Thursday morning meant the weekly Senior Officer's Meeting with the key department heads up in Pope's conference room. Two hours of extended torture, listening to the department's financial pressures, changes to personnel policies, cost cutting measures and watching a number of department heads kissing ass trying to look good in front of Pope.
I snorted gently as I peered into the mirror, only partly at what I saw. I didn't have all that much time for Pope, but he could at least see through the BS better than some of his predecessors. I groaned. Another two hours of having to look at Russell Taylor, no doubt wearing some hideous colour combination. I swear that last shirt-and-tie combo had been a sartorial atrocity.
Then I snickered, remembering how Brenda had leaned in and whispered about the use of those colours in that combination being outlawed by the Geneva Convention.
I'd just smiled gently and quietly muttered that we could arrest him and send him to the international war crimes tribunal in The Hague for crimes against fashion and good taste. Plus we would be well rid of him.
As I stood under the shower I thought of Taylor on trial in front of a bench of judges made up of famous fashion designers pronouncing sentence with Taylor standing there in some hideous paisley / plaid combination and a 'deer-in-the-headlights' look on his face.
The image had me laughing out loud, safe here where no one could see the scary FID boss actually being happy. I honestly believe that 90% of the LAPD thinks I've had my sense of humour surgically removed.
Given the reasons FID takes an interest in an officer's job, I can understand that it's not generally a laughing matter, but almost no one actually cares enough to look behind the division to see the people who do the investigations. The people under me were good at their job, dedicated. They cared about seeing the right thing was done, even if it got them nothing but distrust from their colleagues in the rest of the force.
Some divisions saw it a little differently, but they were few and far between. The big one was Major Crimes. Ever since I had been assigned to work with them on the Goldman case, they had started to warm to me, slowly. The bean bag shot between the eyes that took out that Mexican hit man had helped a lot, even if I did admit to myself that it had been a very lucky shot. Best of all, Brenda had made it clear to her squad that I was part of her team and should be treated as such.
It was nice to be accepted, even if I was never going to live down the 'wicked witch' tag. Last Halloween I had walked in to the desk I had been assigned in the Murder Room, to find a witches pointy hat and a straw broom laying across it.
I smiled at the memory. I'd looked around, to see the entire squad nonchalantly trying to not be caught watching as I sauntered up to the desk. I'd decided to play it cool and take it as a joke.
"Thanks everyone, my broom wouldn't start this morning, so I had to drive in instead. This is very thoughtful"
I'd heard a round of chuckles around the room and looked up to see even Provenza smiling. Turning, I had caught Brenda Leigh watching from her office door where she smiled widely at me and tipped her head in a salute.
Later that morning I'd looked up to see Andy Flynn delivering the morning coffee round, pausing at my desk to put a cup down, which was a first.
When I'd thanked him, he smiled that annoying grin of his and told me it was my turn tomorrow and the coffee list was on the wall by the door. I tasted mine and realised it was an espresso with no sugar, just the way I took it. I asked him how he knew but he just laughed and told me he would be a pretty poor detective if he couldn't figure that one out.
Next time I checked the coffee list on the wall, I saw my name and 'Espresso, no sugar' added to it. It still made me smile.
A few days later Brenda had asked me to catch up for a coffee after work, and we had been meeting up ever since.
As I got dressed in what Brenda has described as one of my 'Sharon Raydor patented power pantsuit' outfits, I thought again of the friendship I had with Brenda. It was nice; I had a friend who cared enough to reach out to me, who wasn't scared of Sharon Raydor, the wicked witch of FID.
Over time our relationship had improved to the point that we had gone from rivals to acquaintances to allies to friends. Brenda was one of my closest friends in the Department.
I snorted to myself, friends in the Department? Well that was a damned short list. I could probably count them on the fingers of one hand, with some left over.
At least Brenda accepted me for who I was, to the point that she sometimes teased me about my lack of a love life. I usually retorted that she was a good one to talk and we would settle into a comfortable silence.
I think she just liked having someone to talk to outside of her squad, someone who understood what it was like, even though we could talk for hours without mentioning either of our cases once. It just meant a lot to know someone saw the person, not the rank and not the position.
I smiled at the reflection in the mirror as I made a last check before I walked out to face the world, at least Brenda would sit next to me in the meeting and we could share our usual snarky asides to pass the time.
As usual I arrived a few minutes early to take my seat in the meeting and waited for the others to arrive. I was watching for Brenda as the rest of the senior officers, all of whom were male, filed in and sat down when I suddenly realised that the dynamics of the meeting had changed.
I heard a sudden lull in the conversation and looked up, to realise that Natalie Dearing had just walked into the room, immediately drawing the attention of every man there. She was wearing a teal blouse under a cream business suit and heels with her hair pinned up, drawing attention to her face. It was a classic look that she pulled off with apparent ease, while ensuring that she was noticed.
The conversation started up again, somewhat subdued, as Natalie took a seat almost across the table and looked up, smiling at me. I nodded in reply and settled back, just in time for the conversation to die off again as a beautiful honey blonde walked in, chatting to a dark haired woman I didn't recognise.
Taking in the beautifully cut red pencil skirt, classic white silk blouse and the four inch heels that I would swear were Manolo's, I knew this had to be Maura Isles. She looked soft, stylish and graceful, completely out of place amongst the sea of uniforms around the table although you wouldn't have guessed it from her poise. She took the seat a few places down from Natalie, next to the Gang Task Force's Commander Reynolds
The other woman I didn't recognise, she was slightly taller than Maura, wearing a well cut light grey jacket and matching slacks over a blue top. She had thick straight dark hair, a piercing gaze and gave off a feeling of contained energy. As she had arrived with Doctor Isles I wondered if she was the Jane Rizzoli I had heard about.
As I watched she sat down next to our new M.E. and started chatting to Captain Collins from Tactical Response, who seemed pleased to be sitting next to her. I also noticed that Natalie had been hemmed in by Commander Washington from Traffic and Captain Oats from Air Support Division, both of whom were being very friendly.
I snorted softly, Oats in particular liked to think he was a ladies man, but he was sadly mistaken if he thought his charm would work on Natalie. I had no doubt she was a past master of deflecting unwanted attention, from far more interesting people than Oats.
On the other hand, she was obviously being charming in return, apparently interested in what they had to say and taking it all, to both men's inordinate pleasure. I guessed that if she could charm the media, spellbound senior officers were child's play.
I looked up as I heard Brenda's honey smooth southern accent wishing a cheery good day to Narcotic's Deputy Chief Kelso as she breezed through the doorway, a splash of colour in a soft grey dress and a fitted red jacket and heels. Pulling out a seat next to me she smiled as she sat down.
"And good morning to you Commander Raydor, how are we this fine morning?" I turned to look at her.
"Very well thank you Chief Johnson and yourself?" I saw a slight frown pass across her face and glanced up to see Taylor enter the room, with his old cronies Henley from Valley Operations and Garcia from Juvenile, grabbing seats well down the table away from us.
"I'm fine thank you" I watched as another dozen or so Commanders and Captains filed in, taking seats around the table. I leaned in to Brenda and whispered.
"Who's the brunette next to Doctor Isles? That is Maura Isles isn't it?" Brenda looked around, spotted them both and leaned in.
"Yes, that's Maura. That's our new FBI liaison, Special Agent Anastasia Romanov sitting next to her" I nodded my thanks and sat back.
Just then Pope walked in, apologising for being late and stating he had been held up on the phone to the Mayor. He sat down and dived in to the agenda, welcoming everyone to the meeting before making special note of our new arrivals.
I kept close watch on Taylor's face as Pope introduced our newly appointed media liaison; sure enough the look on his face could only be described as a mix between loathing and disgust, although whether it was directed at her or Pope I couldn't say.
I looked across at Natalie, who was watching Pope; then at the men around the room. Most of them seemed to be sharing their attention between Pope, who was droning on about the Mayor's latest insights on the LAPDs operations; and our three newest additions, particularly Natalie.
It occurred to me that Pope may have been a lot craftier than I had first imagined. It had initially occurred to me that he might have employed Natalie as eye candy no matter how good she was at her job.
Looking around though, I found myself wondering if he had been more devious than I had first thought. It was obvious that Natalie had made a strong impression on every man in the room; she had obviously charmed both Oates and Washington and could probably do much the same to many of the others.
That meant fewer people that Taylor could count on when he started bitching about being replaced as media liaison while undercutting Taylor's claims to have been badly treated by Pope, all of which made Pope's life easier.
I turned my attention back to Pope, who was now discussing more budget saving measures, all cloaked as an 'efficiency drive', though only a bureaucrat could expect better policing by cutting budgets. I watched him, considering if he really was that cunning or if I was giving him too much credit and he really was thinking with his dick.
"A penny for those thoughts Sharon; you've got a strange look in your eye and I doubt you're looking at Pope cause you're suddenly smitten by bald men with big jowls" I suppressed a smile with great difficulty and leaned slightly towards Brenda.
"Just a thought, I might share it with you after the meeting"
She arched an eyebrow at me, before gently nodding.
"Alrighty then, but I'll hold you to that".
I spent the next two hours chewing over my thoughts and watching our new arrivals.
