Brenda blinked sleepily, fumbling for the snooze button. She felt the bed shift, and glanced back to see Sharon swinging her legs over the edge of the bed, her back rigid with tension.
"Mornin'. How's your head?"
"It's fine, thank you," Sharon replied stiffly, standing up.
Brenda watched as Sharon walked towards the bedroom door, her jaw resolutely set. As she reached the threshold, Brenda spoke.
"What's changed, Cap'n?"
"Nothing. But we have a long day, and I'd like to get moving as soon as possible. I'm usually in the office by 7:30, and I still need to get home, to shower and dress. You've been very…kind, and I'm grateful for your assistance in getting me out of the hospital, but I'm fine now, and I should be going."
Brenda sat up, sighing. She ran her hand over her face, in an attempt to clear away the last bits of sleep, and realized with a jolt that her fingers still carried a lingering trace of sex.
"Sharon. I'm not sure what's going on, but this…you can't just walk... I know I'm not imagining things. What happened?"
"Things always look different in the morning, Chief. Now, I have to get home, so that I can go to work. I'll see you at the office, and we can figure out when we'll be visiting Marc James."
Sharon walked out of the room, and Brenda heard the steady thump of her footsteps as they descended the stairs. A few short moments later, she heard the click of the lock, and then the final thud of the front door closing. She flopped back on the pillow, and draped her arm over her eyes, pressing away the headache that loomed behind them. The house was quiet, only the hum of the central air unit, and the sound of her breathing broke the silence. She laid there, until the buzz of the alarm broke into her thoughts. She sat up, turning it from 'snooze' to off, and noticed that Sharon had left without her pain killers. She picked up the bottle, tracing Sharon's name on the label, then stood up and stalked out of the room. She slammed the bottle on the newel-post , and went to start her shower, and her day.
Later that morning, she perched on the corner of Provenza's desk, as her team updated her on their findings. Marc Jacobs was due to be released from the hospital later in the afternoon, at which point he'd be brought to the station, which caused Brenda to scowl blackly at her team. That meant there'd be no need to car pool with Raydor, which meant she wouldn't have a chance to get the woman alone to figure out what the hell had happened. This was why she waited. This was why she'd let Pope, and her ex-husband, and Fritz do the chasing. This was why she never, ever gave into her feelings before she was sure. Brenda hated uncertainty. There was never a question asked unless she knew the answer first, and with Raydor, Brenda didn't have any answers, but so very many questions. She pushed off of the desk with a huff, and started towards her office. She couldn't deal with the guys right now, especially since Provenza and Flynn were arguing about the latest…something…with sports. Baseball, perhaps? Whatever, it grated.
Sitting down at her desk, she glowered at her phone, daring it to ring. It didn't. She pulled open her candy drawer, and almost screamed in frustration. In all of the chaos, she STILL hadn't gone shopping. The Twizzlers mocked her. Snatching up her purse, she rummaged through and found a handful of change. She shoved her chair back, and stalked to the vending machine, praying for a Reese Cup. Rounding the corner, she slammed the coins into the slot, and pressed the buttons for the Reese Cup, the last one. The metal spiral slid into action, twisting her salvation closer, and closer, and then…it stuck. Brenda let her forehead slump onto the cool Plexiglass barrier.
"Dammit. Dammit, dammit, dammit!" She groaned, pounding a fist on the machine in time with her words.
"Is there something I can help you with, Chief Johnson?"
Brenda actually flinched at the heat that flared through her at the sound of Sharon's voice, before turning around to level her scowl at the Captain.
"No. But you can come by my desk sometime in the next 10 minutes to pick up the pain killers you forgot this morning." She resisted the urge to point out that the 6 hours was well and up, and she could tell, by the tight lines framing the dark haired woman's face, that she was in some not insignificant pain.
"Fine, Chief. I'll meet you there." Sharon replied tersely, spinning on her heel and moving towards the tiny kitchenette.
Brenda watched her walk away, forcing her gaze not to drop to those generous hips in that wool skirt. Dear lord. It was a short wool skirt. As Sharon made her way into the kitchenette, Brenda found herself trailing behind, with no clear plan of action, except to solve the more immediate case of Sharon Raydor.
"Captain." She murmured, moving in to stand just behind her, close enough to let her breath ghost across the Captain's ear. She could sense, more than feel, the slight quiver that ran through Sharon's body, before the woman stilled herself, and her body resumed the rigid posture she'd had in the bedroom that morning. Brenda tried again.
"I was wondering if you'd like to get a coffee with me." She said, still close enough to let her words breeze across Sharon's skin, then, remembering the last time they'd been in this kitchenette, she leaned over to grab a mug from the cabinet, letting her body press against Sharon's back, fighting back the sigh of pleasure that threatened to escape as her breasts met the solid presence, sliding as she reached upward for the handle of the cup.
"I would have gotten out of your way, Chief Johnson." Sharon said quietly, stepping to the side.
"I know. But I didn't ask you, to get out of my way, Cap'n Raydor. Unless you would prefer to be out of my way, in which case, I'll be taking my coffee in my office. If you think you're being polite by moving without being asked, well then by all means, have a seat, and let's have a cup of coffee, and figure out what we're doing with Mr. James today." Brenda hoped her veiled references would render clearly for Sharon, and they could move past whatever roadblock she'd constructed in her mind. She poured her coffee, and sat down at the small table beyond the coffee counter, clutching her mug, and peering at Sharon from beneath her lashes, waiting to see what she'd decide.
Sharon stood with her back to Brenda, stirring her coffee. She knew that this was Brenda's way of giving her a pass, a chance to move forward without any lengthy conversation about her behavior, but she just couldn't bring herself to sit down at the table. Sitting down meant admitting that this meant more than sex. Sitting down meant admitting that falling asleep wrapped in the warmth of Brenda's arms had been the best night's sleep she'd had since she'd divorced 8 years back. And she couldn't do that, because Brenda was going to apply to be the Chief of the LAPD. And that meant that they couldn't keep this…whatever it was, up. So Sharon turned, and walked to the table. She stopped by Brenda's side, and laid her hand on Brenda's shoulder, briefly, feeling the heat of her skin, and the edge of her bones, beneath her palm. Squeezing gently, she looked down, meeting Brenda's gaze an apology in her eyes like a lie, like a promise, and then she walked out of the kitchenette, leaving Brenda sitting with a cup of coffee she wasn't really interested in drinking.
Brenda watched her go, stared at the door long after the Captain was gone from view. She sat there, until Gabriel came to find her, explaining that they'd managed to figure out that both the wounded James kid, and the partner, had been paying off Officer Taggart. Brenda dumped her cup into the sink, never having taken a sip, and followed Gabriel back to the murder room.
She tried to stay focused as Tao explained what they'd found, and she idly wondered if they'd told FID about it. Shrugging her shoulders, she scoffed mentally. Captain Raydor had made it clear that it was back to business as usual, so Brenda went on with her investigation like she normally would. Nobody bothered to pass their discoveries onto FID, as they worked towards solving the crime, and Brenda was glad to have Gabriel back at her right hand.
Together, they interviewed Marc, and Jerome, and realized that the two men had both felt like the patriarch of the James family never saw them as real men. They'd been helping the local gang-bangers launder money through the restaurant, and Taggart had figured it out. They'd cut him in, and he kept quiet, until their father fell ill, and they discovered his intention to pass the business on to Alessia. When they conspired with local thugs to make it look like Alessia had been the victim of a robbery, Taggart hadn't been apprised of the plan, so his instinctive response to the shots fired threw quite the wrench in things. Brenda sat across from Marc, shaking her head in disbelief.
"You conspired to have your sister murdered in cold blood, because you didn't want her to be your boss?"
"She was the baby! How she gonna run things better than me, or Rome, or even my brother?" Marc glared, crossing his arms.
"Guess we'll never know, will we?" Brenda replied, standing up, and moving towards the door. "But I hope you feel like the big man now. I have to go tell your father what you've done. Tell him that he's effectively lost two children, as he lays on his deathbed. So you think about that, while they're booking you."
Stepping out into the hall, she nodded to the uniformed officer standing by to arrest Marc. As he moved into the room, she leaned against the wall, and pinched the bridge of her nose, hating the task that loomed in front of her. She was so lost in thought, that she failed to hear the purposeful click of heels across the floor, until the black, peep toe Chanel shoes were suddenly in her line of sight. She glanced up to find Sharon looking like something that might pass for concerned, if Brenda thought she actually cared.
"Something you needed, Cap'n?" She drawled, dangerously softly.
"Well, Chief, I sat in the media room during that most informative interview. You almost seemed to know what he was going to say." Sharon paused, then continued. "I also heard you mention that you were going to have to inform the father. If you'd prefer, I can handle that aspect of the case."
"That aspect of the case has nothing to do with your department, Captain. If you'll excuse me?" Brenda pushed off from the wall and stalked back towards her office, trying to decide if the mini-mart up the street from the restaurant was a good place to stock up on candy, or if she should go the 8 blocks out of her way and hit that good little store. She wasn't thinking about Sharon Raydor, and the warmth in her eyes as she'd made that offer. She was thinking about a York Peppermint Patty, not the salty taste of Sharon Raydor's skin. Because Sharon Raydor had made it clear that she'd gotten all she'd expected, and now it was business as usual.
So Brenda dragged Gabriel to the James' residence, and laid out the whole sordid plot from end to end. She sat quietly by as they sobbed, then answered their inevitable questions. Gabriel stood stoically near the door, and Brenda thought briefly that Sharon might have sat next to her, letting their shoulders touch in support. Shaking off that thought, she patted Mr. James on the hand, apologizing for his losses one last time, before making her way back over to the door. Gabriel opened it for her, gesturing her through, and then followed, pulling the door closed behind him. They walked to the car in silence, and drove most of the way back to the station before he spoke.
"Sometimes, you have to be the bigger person, even if you don't feel like it." He kept his eyes on the road, not giving any indication that Brenda was even in the car. "Sometimes, the people who push you away the hardest, are the ones who need you the most." He continued, still keeping his eyes straight ahead, even as Brenda stared at him. "If it's worth anything, then it's worth the effort." He finished, nodding his head slightly.
"Did you memorize a series of fortune cookies, Detective?" Brenda snapped, wondering what exactly he was on about.
"No ma'am, I did not, Chief. But we've worked together a long time, now. Coming up on 7 years. Might be your longest relationship yet, right? And I know that there's something different, And even though I don't spend much time around the FID people, there's something different with the Captain as well. If rumors are to be believed, you let her stay the night at your place, rather than in the hospital. But now you're distracted, and irritable. Can't say I see much different about the Captain in that regard, but, she's got that look you get when you lose something you didn't mean to lose. And, after all, I DID make detective, didn't I?"
Brenda let out a small chuckle at that, but said nothing further, choosing instead to stare out the window, wondering how exactly she was supposed to fight for something she couldn't define.