Brenda reflects
Brenda's viewpoint
I was sitting in my office after the Senior Officers meeting, which truth be told I'd been too preoccupied to be much of a participant in. I'd been sitting next to Sharon the whole time, still trying to come to some sort of terms with everything that was going on between us. We'd been polite, but quiet and of course she'd not done anything overt, not in front of everyone.
Our legs had accidentally brushed once as I stretched out under the table, but that had been the only contact and probably accidental, Sharon had made no move to touch me and I wasn't sure if I was relieved or disappointed.
Afterwards I'd made my apologies and left, making my way down to my office where I sat, staring out at the squad room, watching them come and go, brooding really, if I was being honest.
The boys had obviously worked out that I was in one of 'those moods' and gave me plenty of space, bless them.
I was finding my thoughts terribly conflicted.
On one hand I was terrified of what was happening, someone was trying to seduce me. Well not just any someone, it was Sharon, my best friend.
Part of me was afraid; I had no experience with this. The fear was as bad as it was the first time I'd had sex, with Tommy Seaton in the loft of his daddy's barn.
I'd been terrified then, consumed by the terrors of the unknown. I'd thought I'd put that particular fear behind me, I was a grown woman, experienced in both the ways of the world and the ways of men, I knew how to charm and tease and outsmart men to get what I want, to bend them to my will, have them under my control.
But this wasn't a man, this was Sharon, someone I really liked, my best friend, and all of my artifice and experience meant nothing, it was like my first time all over again.
I couldn't even put a name to my fears. Was it the sex part?
I knew how to make a man happy in bed; god knows I'd gone down on enough of them over the years. That was usually enough to satisfy most of them. Others had been kinkier, they'd wanted more.
Kurt in Bonn who liked to tie me to a bed and tease me for hours, except I hadn't liked giving control to someone who I didn't trust, that was too much of me to give away.
Daniel in London, who over a dirty weekend had introduced me to several kinks, most notably anal sex, it was good, I'd enjoyed it, not so much when he'd asked me to reciprocate with him, until I realised the power it gave me over him, to be the dominant partner feeling him bucking under my hands as I rode him.
Christopher in Washington who'd liked it when I dominated him, dressed in boots and leather and made him beg. I felt a nasty smile twist my mouth, remembering that little kink. I'd actually got off on it, having a powerful man under my control, responsive to my every whim or need.
A threesome in New York not long after I left the Agency, when I was still trying to get my head around what I'd done and why I'd left, I met two guys in a bar, got drunk with them and spent the night getting fucked in every hole, a night of pure filthy sex, until I snuck out of there while they slept in the early morning, not because the sex wasn't good, it was, but because I realised why I'd done it.
I'd let myself submit to them to punish myself for what I'd done, in that room in Dhahran, remembering where my soul had been irretrievably damaged. I'd become such a tool of the Agency that I'd not just lost my moral compass; I'd tossed it away, never missing it until it was too late.
I had fled that hotel room in New York, realising that I had to find another moral compass, because without it I was going to slide into a hell of my own making. That's what had led me to the police, it gave me a monochrome world to inhabit, criminals were black and I was the white knight, riding in to vanquish them.
I'd ridden more than that, as I climbed the ladder, I'd come to enjoy they perks of rank, the trappings of power, the ability to control others. That had bled into my personal life, I'd found that the only relationships I truly enjoyed were the ones where I was in control, I'd actually idly fantasised at being a dominatrix, controlling and dominating men, until I learned that it was truly the submissive who held the real power.
I'd eventually decided to settle down, try and raise a family, unfortunately I'd fucked that up, every guy I'd opened myself up to had tried to change me, to make me what they wanted, unwilling to see that I wasn't their ideal wife and was never going to be.
Three times I'd tried; once I'd been betrayed, twice I'd walked down the altar, never ever again.
Now I was faced with a totally different situation, one I'd no idea about and no experience of how to play this game.
I'd realised that in a relationship I had to be the one in control, I could only let that control go when I was with someone I trusted implicitly, someone who would trust me, let me be me and not try and change me.
I looked at Sharon and I saw someone entirely too much like me, I couldn't see her handing over her control in a job, a relationship or in bed. That's why we had fought so much when we first met, neither of us willing to hand over control to the other.
Eventually we'd managed to come to an unspoken agreement, we could share control, turn ourselves to controlling others, it had worked, rather than trying to dominate each other we dominated those around us.
But would that work if there was an 'us'? If I let Sharon draw me into a relationship, we'd be back into that whole control issue. I would have to trust Sharon, to share control, could she do that with me, let some of her control go; let me be in control as well?
That'd probably be as hard for her as it was for me.
How much did she trust me?
Did she trust me enough to let me be in charge at times, not just in bed, although that was often the hardest place, but in our daily lives, lived together?
Did she trust me enough to let me be the dominant one, not always, but enough to allow me to feel like I was in control of what we had?
Come to think of it, did I trust her enough to let go of that control? Enough so that she could feel like she was in control of some of our lives.
I could imagine the two of us fighting for dominance, in bed, in our relationship, in our lives, that wasn't a pleasant thought. I could probably win out with a man, I knew what buttons to push, make it worth their while to submit, little by little, until they did what I wanted. Sex was an effective lever, and I was good enough at it that they saw benefits in doing what I wanted.
With Sharon, it'd be different. She was the accomplished one, the experienced one. Obviously she'd been in previous situations with women; I couldn't believe she'd just decided out of the blue to engage in a lesbian relationship with me. No, there'd been previous relationships there, so she knew what buttons to push.
I sighed. I had no doubt that sex with Sharon Raydor would be more than satisfying. The damned woman was a perfectionist, she brought that to everything she did, be it her appearance, her investigations, her handwriting, how she filled out paperwork, everything.
I was sure she was just the same between the sheets, making sure she was doing everything perfectly. I'd be the inexperienced one, unsure of what to do, how to do it, all my carefully created artifice would be laid bare, Brenda Leigh Johnson, novice, vulnerable.
That scared the hell out of me.
How in god's name had we ended up in this mess?
Maybe we could come to some sort of agreement, I mean previously we'd fought over everything during our investigations together, from the interviews, to the pace of it, even the paperwork, until we'd finally come to an unspoken arrangement. I wondered if we could do something similar between us, god knows there was a lot more at stake here.
We were looking at a potential future, for both of us, I don't know about her, but I was tired of having relationships fail, of investing a part of myself into someone else, only to have them leave when I didn't change to meet their expectations.
I guessed Sharon had gone through something similar, I mean she was divorced, so it had ended badly at least once, and probably more than once. I couldn't imagine Sharon would really lack for attention, she was a lovely woman and she caught many eyes, including mine I suppose.
I couldn't conceive of her having remained single and celibate since her marriage died so she had logically had other relationships not work out either.
So now she wanted to try with me.
I sat there, thinking of what Maura and Anastasia had told me.
Intellectually I heard what they were saying, a relationship with someone was a positive, healthy, as Maura had oh so kindly pointed out on the walk back to the office, regular sex made for a much healthier person. She must be getting it often then, she glowed with health.
I couldn't blame Jane though, if I was gay and had Maura, I'd be doing her as often as possible.
'If I was gay…' I thought about that.
Well if I went with what seemed a consensus, that Sharon was who I should be with, well then I would be gay. Was that what I wanted?
I didn't really label people; gay people were like the rest of us. I'd seen them, mostly as victims, sometimes as suspects, in any number of crimes; they were just people, the same as anyone else, just subject to a bit more prejudice than most.
Everyone seemed to be cheering us on, that we would be good together, which opened a few cans of worms all by themselves.
I didn't know how to be good in bed with a woman, what to do to make them feel satisfied. Could I actually do this, let a woman have free access to my body?
I suppose I could lay back, close my eyes and lie to myself that it was just like a guy. That might work for a while, but sooner or later I would need to reciprocate, push Sharon back and kiss her, not like a friend, like a lover.
More than that, I'd need to work my way down, over her body, her neck, her breasts and her body and sooner or later, I'd have to push her legs apart and… well yes. That was the rub; could I do that, really?
It must have been hard for Jane and Natalie, the first time, but they'd been in love, you could do a lot of things you wouldn't normally do when you're in love. I wasn't in love with Sharon, I liked her, I respected her, I cared for her, but I wasn't in love with her.
Could I sleep with her? Of course I could, I'd done that before, plenty of times but that had been with anonymous guys. But this was different; this was someone who knew me. I couldn't fuck her and walk away, it wasn't anonymous sex, this was someone I worked with, drank coffee with, ate with and laughed at the world with.
There was nothing anonymous about this, nothing at all.
In a way, I'd be open and vulnerable; I'd have to be honest and tell her that I was scared, that I didn't know what I was doing and needed her help and support. God knows I was going to need it, if I was going to do this and more and more it looked like I was.
It looked like the stars were aligning, that everything was pushing me in a direction, towards Sharon Raydor, well Sharon and her bed.
I had to admit, that was a fucking big scary thought right there, lying in a bed naked with Sharon Raydor, kissing her, rolling around with her in bed, touching and being touched, licking and feeling and sliding across one another, hearing her come and feeling myself spasm around her fingers. Her fingers...inside me.
I'd need to accept that she would lead me, that she would understand that I wasn't experienced and go slowly, letting me become used to what she was doing, what we were doing together.
When I'd first thought about it, earlier this week, I'd told myself that I could be with Sharon, but now, thinking about the reality, I realised it was a lot more difficult than I thought.
I'd have to stand before her and admit not only to myself but to her that I was scared and needed to be led through what we were going to do, to give control to Sharon and let her take that control from me and use it to teach me to be with another woman.
All of that scared me, a lot. I sighed and shook my head sadly; this was harder than I thought. As I looked up I could see several of the boys outside surreptitiously watching me, wondering what was up, what was bothering me. If only they knew…
Would they be surprised? Certainly. Shocked? Possibly. Unhappy? Probably not, if it made me happy, it seems they wanted me to be happy, even if it was at the hands of Sharon Raydor.
Not that I would be racing out to tell anyone, not for a while at least. I had to find out if it would work with Sharon, if we could make it work together.
To be honest, I did want it too, if only to not be alone, to have someone to be there for me, to comfort me when the reality of what I did for a living got too much for me.
Sharon was offering to be that person, to be there for me.
I suddenly realised I had the answer to one of my questions right there. Sharon did trust me, enough to want me to be an intimate part of her life, to open herself to me, to be willing to let me inside the hidden life of Sharon Raydor.
I sighed; it was a massive risk, it was also a massive gift as well. One I couldn't really turn down.
I wondered what Sharon had expected when she made her move. Had she thought that I would be easily interested? Had she been willing to take her time, hoping to bring me round gently, so that I could get used to the idea?
She was willing to take a chance, to risk so much because she thought I was worth it. In its own way that was incredibly endearing, not to mention flattering, that someone who looked like Sharon wanted me when she could have so many others.
I wondered what she saw in me that attracted her to me. I was attractive; I could say that without any false modesty, I got enough looks as well to tell me that.
So she liked the outside, but she must also be willing to accept the other parts of me, the good and specially the bad that she knew about from our coffee's and shopping and catch ups when I'd been honest about what I'd done wrong.
I had to admit, in many ways Sharon knew more about me going into a relationship than either Dave or Fritz, especially the bad stuff. I'd been at my lowest ebb and Sharon had seen that. She'd seen all that and still wanted me. That was a little scary actually.
She had seen me a complete wreck, an emotional disaster and still thought enough of me to want me, not for a night but for the long term. I had to admit, that was nice, it made me feel special, appreciated and cherished.
I suddenly realised, Sharon would know that I was completely inexperienced, she knew that going in, while the subject hadn't come up, I was pretty sure that she knew that I was a complete novice at this and was willing to go slow to take her time, to be prepared to lead me and guide me and be gentle with me.
I bit my lip. I suddenly realised I had the answers to half of the things I'd been worried about, she must have wanted me badly, but felt I was worth it to go slow and gentle.
Sharon cared for me, she must care for me deeply, maybe even…loved me.
I sat there for a moment, taking that in. Could it be true, or was I projecting onto Sharon what I wanted, to be loved and cherished and appreciated?
Maybe if Sharon did, could love me, then she could handle me, my need to feel in some sort of control, enough so that I could let that go when she needed me to.
I sighed. My mind was banging from one extreme to the other, seeming to go round and round in circles too. I was speculating without enough information.
I thought about that for a moment and then decided I needed some distraction.
Maura and Anastasia had been well worth chatting to and with Jane still out of the office, I decided I might take a walk up to Natalie's office and see if she was in. A discussion with her would probably take my mind off what I was thinking about, even if only for a little while.
Given her personality, it'd probably be fun. God knows, I needed that right now.
