Neither Brenda nor Sharon could believe their good fortune; after a day of dealing with Willie Rae's (probably bored and slightly pouty) presence in the back ground as they attempted to have as normal a Sunday as possible, Lieutenant Flynn, in conjunction and collaboration with Lieutenant Provenza, had called to invite Willie Rae to dinner. Sharon was sprawled on the couch with her eyes closed when Brenda came back in the house from walking her mother out to Flynn's car. Brenda insinuated herself onto the couch, curling around Sharon's body and clinging to her to keep from sliding to the floor.
"Flynn said we have two hours at least," Brenda informed her apparently comatose partner. Sharon's eyes popped open and she grinned wickedly at Brenda.
"What would you like to do with our two hours of alone time, Brenda Leigh?" Sharon positively purred, twining one leg around Brenda's. Brenda smirked and shifted herself more fully on top of Sharon, straddling a strong thigh and reveling at the increased contact between them. Despite the playful mood, with her partner looking up at her so openly, green eyes sparkling and crinkled by the smile she was fighting, Brenda's heart swelled with something that was no longer unrecognizable to her: an intense desire to be linked so inextricably with this woman that they could never be separated, so that no one could question her commitment or the seriousness with which she regarded this relationship. Brenda's slightly predatory smirk faded into a minute, tremulous smile, and tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
Sharon's eyes got huge and she reached up to cup Brenda's cheek with a gentle hand.
"What's the matter?" She husked urgently, thumb tracing over Brenda's cheekbone.
Unable to articulate the pent up emotion that dealing with her mother and coming to some sort of (fragile) resolution had released in her, Brenda shook her head mutely then buried her face in Sharon's neck with a strangled sob. She cried hidden underneath the curtain of Sharon's hair, drawing Sharon's scent into her heaving lungs, with Sharon's hands tracing soothing circles on her back.
When her sobs had quieted to hiccups, and her tears were only tracks staining her cheeks, Brenda lifted herself up on her elbows to take in Sharon's troubled feature.
"Are you alright?" she asked, green eyes liquid with worry.
Brenda nodded and croaked, "I think so." She sat up more fully and perched straddling Sharon's hips. "I'm sorry," she said, scrubbing at her stiff-feeling cheeks. "I think I needed that."
"You don't have to apologize, Brenda Leigh," placated Sharon in that thrumming voice that accompanied some of their emotional moments.
Brenda offered her a rueful smile and an explanation anyways. "It's been a pent-up couple 'a days. I feel better now, though." Sharon arched a brow at that, perhaps unwilling to believe that Brenda felt better after a crying jag that would induce a headache in most people.
"I really do," Brenda protested. "Havin' some kind of resolution with mama is good, though I wish she'd stop bein' so esoteric and whatever and just see how happy we are together."
Sharon couldn't help her smile at Brenda's pronouncement. "She'll come around," she assured the other woman, reaching up to cup her hips.
"I know - but I feel like maybe I'm missin' the right words or somethin', that would make her get it." Brenda sat up straighter and cocked her head, a contemplative look on her face. "The only way I know how to explain is; it's like when you're workin' on a real mess of a case, and you can't make sense of anything, cuz you're missin' some key piece of information - and then when you get that piece of information, everything clicks into place, and you know exactly what you need to do to get your resolution. That's how you make me feel - every moment with you is a moment that clicks," she finished with an embarrassed little shrug.
"That was fairly poetic, Brenda Leigh Johnson," Sharon pronounced with an adoring smile. "And I know exactly what you mean."
"I thought you would." Then Brenda leaned in for a kiss, again stretching her body out along Sharon's, and losing herself in the feeling of Sharon's lips against hers.
Conversation over dinner dispelled the notion that the Lieutenants would be a sympathetic ear to Willie Rae's concerns about Brenda's new relationship. Even the perpetually cynical Lieutenant Provenza seemed to think that Sharon Raydor was a good match for her daughter. Despite her disappointment, dinner was a pleasant affair, and Willie Rae enjoyed hearing about Lieutenant Flynn's children and Lieutenant Provenza's grandchildren (and his improving relationship with his first ex-wife).
It went against Willie Rae's every principle to pay four dollars for a cup of drip coffee, so instead of enjoying coffee and a slice of cake at the very nice restaurant that Lieutenants Flynn and Provenza had picked, she had half a cake boxed up so they could enjoy it at the house. The cake was an exceptionally delicious looking red velvet, made on the premises, so Willie Rae was expecting much delight on Brenda Leigh's part. Despite her assurances, both the Lieutenants seemed uneasy about returning to the house so soon, and tried to insist that they stay where they were to eat dessert. Blustering through their attempts to delay, Willie Rae had them cowed in a matter of minutes.
Opening the door, Willie Rae regretted her insistence in an instant; on the couch, Sharon Raydor was on top of her daughter, and the two women were kissing langorously. Willie Rae flushed and turned to high tail it right back out the door, but Flynn and Provenza were a solid wall against her escape. Provenza cleared his throat loudly and averted his eyes, but Flynn let out a low chuckle, remembering his assessment of them from a few weeks ago: still like a couple of teenagers.
"Well, ya'll are earlier than we expected!" Brenda said with exaggerated brightness as Sharon offered her a hand with which to lever herself off the couch. Her cheeks were flushed faintly, but she didn't show any other outward signs of embarrassment - and that flush could be attributed to more pleasurable things.
Sharon dragged a hand through her hair, but regarded her visitors with apparent calm. "I'm sure I have some decaf in the freezer somewhere," she managed to say with some aplomb, turning towards the kitchen.
Provenza didn't give Willie Rae a chance to bolt or start something with the Chief, hooking her arm through his and half dragging her out of the entryway, following Raydor into the kitchen. That left Flynn holding the cake box, watching the Chief warily, wondering if he was going to be subject to whatever displeasure she felt over being interrupted.
Sure enough, she turned to him, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. "You said two hours at least," she hissed.
"We tried to tell her that we didn't mind paying for the restaurant's coffee, but she insisted!" Andy countered earnestly, holding the cake box out like a sacrificial offering. Brenda snatched it from him and peeked inside. Cream cheese icing. She fought for control of her face - she wasn't really mad at Flynn (in truth, they could have caught her and Sharon at much, much worse), but she loved making him sweat.
"And you let one little ol' southern lady bully you? Did she swipe the keys to your car or something?"
Andy had no answer, and shrugged, sort of shrinking into himself, his shoulders hunching. How could he tell her that he had a hard time not jumping to when Willie Rae insisted on something because it was practically pavlovian for him to obey a Johnson woman?
"Is she behaving that badly," he asked softly, trying to move the subject away from his failures, though perhaps his choice of topic wasn't the safest.
"She's doin' that guilt-trippy mom pout thing, and it's real annoyin', Lieutenant."
"Did you at least enjoy your," Andy checked his watch, "one hour and thirty-six minutes of alone time?" Brenda didn't answer, merely glared. "Because it looks it me like you did," he continued, trying not to laugh at her incoherent noise of rage. "Seriously, though, your lips are pretty swollen." Brenda's hand flew briefly to her mouth, then flashed out to punch Andy firmly in the shoulder. It stung a bit, but it was totally worth it. She glared at him again, then spun and marched into the other room.
"No cake for you," she pronounced firmly; Andy couldn't tell if she was serious.