"[W]hat does the sentence "If you eat this fruit you will die" mean for Eve who is in a place where there is no death?" - Helene Cixous, Readings: The Poetics of Blanchot, Joyce, Kafka, Kleist, Lispector, and Tsvetayeva.
Mama springs it on her that she wants to come visit. And it's a bigger surprise when she lets her know that her niece is with her on the plane, and oh, don't you know we'll be here soon? It's just a few hours Brenda Leigh, love you!
Brenda actually flails in the middle of her office, blinds open, in a panic, not sure what to do first. Then she goes and sits in her chair and puts her head in her hands and even more thoroughly panics. She heard knocks on her door but she's way too far gone for that. And then there's people in her office and she jumps out of her chair, startled.
It's just… everyone? Almost everyone. Flynn, Provenza, Tao, Gabriel… Buzz is standing outside the door, she would bet anything Sanchez is behind the other.
"What are y'all doin' in here?" She says and is she on the verge of tears? This cannot be happening.
Her mother is on her way with her niece, Kitty didn't get better, and she's surrounded by well meaning but worried awkward men.
"Chief, we've been trying to get your attention for a while. You've kind of been just… sitting there breathing heavily," Gabriel says and it's his worried looks that break her heart the most.
Her boys are so sweet.
"My mama just called and decided she's dropping in for a visit with my niece," Brenda finally manages to explain to several blank faced men.
Her squad slowly exchanged confused glances.
Gabriel follows up, "… so you're in here because…"
Brenda looks at them all incredulously. "Oh, for heaven's sake! Haven't y'all met my mother?!" She shrieks. Buzz holds his ear outside the door. "She's bringing my teenage niece to visit! And murders never stop in Los Angeles for one day—"
"Chief, Chief, Chief," Provenza rushes to the front of the group, leaning forward to pat her hand soothingly and open her candy drawer, rifling through until he finds a candy bar, opening it and handing it to her. "Take some time off. We can handle any scenes we get in the meantime, and if we need you, we'll call."
Brenda opens her mouth to list examples of every other time she's done this and it went horribly wrong, but Tao, thinking quickly, suggests, "you can even have Commander Taylor watch over us while you're out, Chief."
Everyone in the office looks at Tao accusingly, who shrugs. Brenda smiles, taking a bite of chocolate and feeling it soothe her nerves. "What a great idea, Lieutenant Tao. I'll set that up tonight before I leave."
Well, Fritz. I made time for Mama, Brenda thinks glumly then, lamenting over the loss of time at work and the inevitable awkwardness of dealing with her teenage niece. At least I have the chocolate.
"Oh, Charlie, these are the best… brownies… ever!"
Somewhere in Brenda knew she shouldn't feel this elated by brownies, but chalked it up to her niece being a really good baker. She also just really, really needed an excuse to float away from 'Jack-In-The-Box' and now she felt like she was.
Fritz was still out at work and had called when she got home letting her know he'd be late tonight. So when there's a distinctly familiar rapping on her front door, Brenda stops her sing-musing about the case and lifts her head. It can't be, she thought.
"D'ya hear that, Charlie?" She sat up on her elbows and tilted her head almost all the way to the side, trying to hear for more.
"I think so," Charlie replies from the couch, but doesn't move.
And then Captain Raydor's voice from the other side asks loudly, followed by three more knocks, "Chief Johnson? Are you home?"
Her eyebrows furrow. Captain Raydor at her house? Does she know where she lives? Ugh… she fell back to the floor exasperatedly, holding a pillow to her chest. She blows the hair that falls into her eyes out of her face.
"… Aunt Brenda? The door? Sounds like someone from work."
Brenda sits up, "Oh, shoot! The door!"
She clambers to her feet, giggling with Charlie the whole way and practically oozes to the door, leaning heavily against the frame when she opens it.
"Why, Captain Raydor. What a surprise to see you in my neck of the woods. What can I do ya for?"
Captain Raydor stares at her strangely. "Chief Johnson, I apologize for bothering you at home. I came to check on that paperwork, you said you would bring it to my office at the end of the work day, and you must have forgotten."
Brenda seems to remember her niece and looks back at Charlie hovering behind her. "Have you met my niece Charlie? Charlie, come say hello!"
Charlie waves from where she stands but doesn't move. Brenda rolls her eyes in an over exaggerated way. "Well, Charlie, Captain Raydor of F.I.D, Captain Raydor, Charlie."
"Chief. The paperwork?" Sharon brings her attention back to her.
"Right. The paperwork," Brenda slaps a hand to her forehead. "I completely forgot ta bring it t'ya," her lip begins to wobble. "I'm so sorry!"
Sharon's arms immediately extend out in front of her, waving her hands as if to ward off the impending tears. "No, no no no no, it's okay, it's okay. Are you… feeling alright, Chief?"
Brenda perked up. "Oh, Captain, I'm more than alright! My niece made these fantastic brownies — you want some?"
"Chief, can you look at me?" Sharon pulls her to face forward with a hand on her chin, staring at her eyes.
Brenda's mouth got dry and she licked her lips, making eye contact with Sharon as she felt the breath leave her body. If her niece wasn't in the room…
A voice suspiciously like her mother's starts talking about temptation and she thinks, briefly, about something her Mama said the Garden. The ultimate sin. Fruit of the poisonous tree.
But the fruit looks so good... she thinks, staring into Sharon Raydor's green eyes.
Sharon was slightly breathless when she stared directly into Brenda's eyes, but when she saw that they were dilated and couldn't focus on her, she felt dread settle in her stomach and she raised a high eyebrow, her eyes settling on Brenda's niece now who looked nervous and uncomfortable behind her in the background.
She released Brenda's chin from her grip, earning a disappointed pout that disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"Brownies, hm?" She placed a hand on her hip and swept her hair behind her shoulder.
Brenda motions her inside and goes off to find the plate of brownies, picking up another and extending it to Sharon. "Don't they smell just wonderful?"
Sharon plucks it out of her hand and breaks it apart, sniffing the middle and straightening with alarm. "Chief—"
"Oh, Captain, you may as well call me Brenda, since you've been in my home now," Brenda sing-songs, meandering to the kitchen. "You want some dinner? Charlie made the most perfect southern comfort food in all of Los Angeles…"
Sharon tries not to stare at the way Brenda moves in that dress, the way it swishes around her hips, but it's just so flattering on the southern woman and it makes something hot coil in her gut and almost takes her breath from her.
"No thank you, Chief—Brenda. Call me Sharon," she amends with a sigh at the hard look Brenda sends her. "You should go lay down. Charlie and I will clean up, won't we?"
"Uh… yeah," Charlie nods, gently pushing Brenda towards her room.
After some hemming and hawing about it not being Sharon's responsibility, Brenda finally goes and lays down, and if she sashays as she leaves the room, Sharon chalks it up to that she must be feeling a little unsteady. And if Sharon's eyes are glued to watching her leave, it's just because she's worried she might trip and fall, or simply wobble and fall over, of course. Chief Johnson isn't known for her graceful nature, after all.
Once she's heard the bedroom door shut and no banging, falling or otherwise alarming noises Sharon begins silently picking up plates, silverware, the couch pillow that Brenda was hugging like a lifeline, returning things to their proper places - or what she guessed were their proper places - and entered the kitchen.
Charlie broke the silence after Sharon began passing her dishes to dry once she started up the sink. "So… you're not going to say anything?"
Here we go, Sharon thought . "Is there anything to say?"
"Um… no?" Charlie tried feebly.
"Alright, Charlie. You brought marijuana into a Deputy Chief's house. Not only that, but an FBI Agent lives here," Sharon says evenly, but not harshly. "And if doing it with those two things in mind wasn't bad enough, your Aunt has no idea she's drugged up right now."
"I was just having a little fun—"
"A little fun?" Sharon's voice got dangerously low. "And what if Chief Johnson — Brenda had had an adverse reaction to what you put in those brownies? What would you do? You could have gotten her seriously ill, and you would have been home alone to deal with it if I hadn't shown up tonight."
They go on quietly washing and drying for a while. "I think I prefer being yelled at by my parents or Uncle Fritz. You're intense," Charlie finally says, but her relieved tone let's Sharon know she's on the right track and hasn't lost the kid completely.
"I'm a mother," Sharon chuckles.
"My mom isn't too good at it," Charlie mutters, resentment flaring in her expression.
"I'm sure my kids felt the same way growing up. Everyone feels that way," Sharon sympathizes.
Charlie rolls her eyes, but one glance of sharp green eyes and she mumbles an apology. "I didn't want to get Aunt Brenda sick," she says finally, her face betraying her guilt for the trespass, picking at a thread on her sweater. "I just wanted us to have fun together. She seems so stressed, and she keeps that file with that weird… guy on it with her all the time, and she thinks I don't hear her check the house sometimes at night with her gun, but I do. She thinks I don't hear her and Fritz fight, but I do. I didn't want her to be sick of me anymore, and thought by having a little fun, we could—"
Sharon gently interrupted the teenager's ramble. "I don't think she's sick of you, Charlie."
"All the adults in my life are sick of me," Charlie replied, her voice cracking. "Mom and Dad sent me to Grandma and Grandpa. Grandma and Grandpa sent me here. What if Aunt Brenda and Uncle Fritz…"
"Oh, honey," Sharon coos, drying her hands quickly and wrapping the slight girl in a hug. "I don't know your Aunt very well - in fact we spend more time arguing than we do getting along. But I know she'd never send you back like that. She doesn't give up very easily, as you may know."
Charlie nods against Sharon, relishing in the comfort and security of her embrace. They return to washing, drying, and putting food away.
Sharon pauses, turns to face Charlie. "She checks the house?"
The teenager hesitates and brushes hair behind her ear, lowering her voice. "Yeah. Yeah, I think she has nightmares. Uncle Fritz never wakes up, though. I find her sitting on the couch sometimes when I get up to use the bathroom or get water. Just looking at the door. A-and she's so freaky about the bathroom window…"
Sharon looked towards Brenda's bedroom before sighing. "Well… those are all very adult things to be worrying about, Charlie. And I'm sure your Aunt would be touched that you care."
"… But?"
"Ah, used to the 'but', are you?" Sharon gave her a wry hint of a smile. "There isn't a but. I think Brenda would be incredibly touched to know you care so much. However—"
"There it is," Charlie murmurs.
"However," Sharon continues pointedly, "giving someone a controlled substance without their consent is against the law. And it wasn't fair of you, intention or not, to give her something without informing her."
"I know, I know. I'll apologize in the morning. I-I'll make breakfast for her."
"That's a good start," Sharon nodded her approval. She wiped her hands on the towel and turned to survey the kitchen.
"Uh, C-Captain Raydor?"
"Oh, you can call me Sharon, Charlie."
"Sharon, then…" Charlie looked small, her hands held together. "Please don't tell my Uncle Fritz."
"Where is he?" Sharon deflects, "Your Uncle."
"At work. He called Aunt Brenda and said he'd be late tonight. He's the one who signed for my care package and… He just gets so mad sometimes."
Sharon sighed. "Well, Brenda will have to tell him herself eventually. And if they have a discussion, honey, remember they're the adults. Don't involve yourself."
Charlie nodded absently, biting anxiously on her cuticles, a habit no doubt picked up from her Aunt. "Okay."
Captain Raydor nodded. "Now, I'm going to go check on your Aunt before I get that paperwork and leave. If you ever need me, Charlie, for anything, this is my card. And I'm going to write my personal cell phone number on the back."
She looks around for a pen before thrusting the card at Charlie and stops in front of Brenda's bedroom door, listening for noises. She rolls her eyes when she hears quiet singing.
Sharon takes a deep breath before knocking twice and opening the door. "Chief—Brenda? I came to check on you before I leave."
"Oh, Sharon! I didn't know you were still here."
Brenda is changed for bed, wearing something lacy and revealing, probably for Agent Howard. That's what she tells herself.
Sharon feels her face heat up when she lingers on her shoulders for just a little too long and she knows she's been caught when wide, brown eyes look at her mischievously, batting thick eyelashes up at her.
Sharon clears her throat, her cheeks bright red. "Well, since you're fine and Charlie and I cleaned up, I'll just grab that paperwork and get going…"
"What's the rush, Cap'n?" Brenda asked coyly, the comforter pooling around her waist now. She played with the strap of her top and Sharon suddenly knew, very well, what was being insinuated. "Why don't you stay a lil' while?"
Sharon's mouth went dry.
"Y-You're not thinking straight, Chief—"
"Oh I'm sure about that," Brenda practically purred, her eyes half lidded and she crawled to the edge of the bed. She crooked her finger, beckoning the other woman closer. "Sharon..."
Somehow Sharon found herself walking closer to the bed, to Chief Johnson, to things she definitely should not be going towards. She brought her hand up to caress Brenda's face, trailing her fingertips over her cheek.
With more control than she ever thought she had, she whispered, "Go to sleep, Chief. Your husband will be home soon."
Brenda takes the rejection with surprising grace, curling back up into bed, blinking widely up at Sharon. If you looked closely, you could see how tightly she curled in on herself, like trying to stem the flow of an open cut.
Like Sharon's rejection had wounded her.
"Goodnight, Captain. You can see yourself out, can't you? And, and, and… those files… you're looking for… in my purse…"
Brenda was snoring softly before she really knew she was asleep, and Sharon backed up, leaned heavily against the door. It took all of her strength and willpower to resist getting into Brenda's bed with her. She knows she hurt Brenda - can read her like a book most days. But she can't take advantage of her like that. Besides the fact that they're both married, to boot.
She knows Brenda would regret it. She hopes that Brenda would regret this sober, at least, because the alternative meant things that Sharon didn't know if she was ready to deal with, to face right in front of her; even though she also wanted more than anything for Brenda to tell her, with nothing in her system, that she wanted her. Physically, at least. Anything else was still up in the air, and she didn't know if she could handle it. Any of it. It was better left unsaid.
She watched Brenda sleep for a few moments in the dimly lit orange light of the room, mesmerized by curly blonde ringlets strung out across her face and neck and back, in her mouth and eyes, by how peaceful she looked and how beautiful she was. With a quiet sigh, she exited her bedroom.
Quietly, she traipses around until she finds Brenda's purse and the paperwork she needed, knocking on Charlie's door to let her know she's heading out now. Surprisingly she didn't see the file for that man Charlie mentioned, but if Sharon had stayed she would've noticed it was on the nightstand already.
As she pulls down the street, in her mirror she spots a familiar car pull into the driveway. Sharon bangs her head onto the back of her headrest in frustration.
Brenda almost couldn't help the way she antagonized Sharon and sabotaged the progress they made. It drew her in, like everything else about her. The fighting, the petty insults, the tit for tat. Her beautiful eyes and amazing body.
She knew she was trapped in a marriage with someone who thought she should change everything about her to be bearable most of the time, and that Sharon would never cross that line.
She ached to touch Sharon's skin in a way that she knew Eve must have felt in the garden, thinking about her Mama's talks about the Bible as a little girl. Is lust truly a sin? She pondered, tapping her pen. Only if I give in to it. Only if I take the fruit.
Sometimes she indulges the idea of Eve's autonomy. That Eve knew what she was doing. That Eve wanted more than some garden locked away from what lay beyond it - that she ate the apple herself, that there was no snake.
There are times she wants to be Eve, biting into tantalizing red flesh with no regard for consequence. Just to satisfy her desires. Just to know what the skin feels like between her teeth
The thing was, if she left Fritz she was admitting defeat. Another failed marriage for Brenda Leigh. Not only that, but her Mama and Daddy would be so disappointed. She just had to make it work. She knows it was selfish to ask Sharon what she had asked of her… but she had to know.
It's not like Brenda's exactly known for her acts of selflessness, anyway. Few and far between.
Some nights when she's had too much wine and it's late, she thinks about how sabotaging their friendship is a way of protecting herself so she doesn't have to tell Sharon that her high proposition would stand stone-cold-sober, too, and then around that point she passes out, because it takes a long time and a lot of wine these days to get her mind off of either Sharon or Phillip Stroh even in her own home, now.
She spends hours going over the files, calling Gabriel and only Gabriel if she needs anything else in relation to the case, and usually doesn't even need to. She swore him to secrecy, too. The rest of the team doesn't need to know about her work on this case, they worry needlessly enough as it is. Gabriel is her number one and thankfully capable of keeping secrets. (Though that's backfired on her more than once.)
The case file almost never leaves her side. It sleeps where she sleeps - on her nightstand, on her desk, on the coffee table or on the couch beside her. It fell asleep with her, some nights. The first time it happened it scared her so badly she screamed until she was sobbing. Fritz had to hold her while she mumbled incoherently after.
She doesn't think she's gotten restful sleep since his case. She used to check the house after her nightmares which had mostly abated, but with Charlie staying her nightmares came back with a vengeance, and she started clearing the house before entering and leaving. Just to make herself feel better.
With Charlie here it's easier to focus on her and work a little bit, at least. And then while at her office, Charlie asks with no sense of subtlety,
"Do you always clear your whole house?"
Brenda tried not to stiffen. Her door was open, here comes the clicking of Sharon Raydor's heels, and Gabriel is already in here, pretending he isn't listening. None of her squad can hide their body language from her.
"No, Charlie," she lies sweetly and with a smile, thinking about the knife she sleeps with under her pillow or how her gun stays on top of her nightstand and not inside it when Charlie isn't here. "It's just dangerous, that's all. You're a young lady, I worry."
When Gabriel meets her eyes, she knows there's going to be questions. And with the arrival of Sharon, she knows she'll have them, too. She needs to get a cap on this conversation and fast, but Gabriel beats her to it.
"Chief, if you're not feeling safe again you know we can have round the clock surveillance—"
"Sergeant, that won't be necessary. I've just been a bit jumpy since Charlie's in the house," she smiled to set him at ease, but she knew that she didn't relieve his worries at all.
Somehow telepathically communicating, Gabriel goes, "hey, Charlie, do you want something from the cafe? My treat." And ushered her out the door and down the hall, periodically looking back until they turned the corner.
Sharon entered as they were leaving, and came to sit on the edge of her desk, an eyebrow raised. She gracefully doesn't mention the candle or the strange overlapping smells in the room.
"Nothing you need to worry yourself about, Captain."
Sharon merely raised her eyebrow higher.
Brenda gets lost looking at the picture of Stroh taped on her monitor. "Don't you start worrying yourself now, Captain, I barely get the boys off my back about this," she murmurs absently, reaching up to trail her finger over the matte texture.
"Is he the reason?"
"I'm surprised you don't already know," she remarks dryly, but lacking bite. "But yes. With Charlie in the house I've had…"
Flashes of her nightmare come back to her, hazy in detail and yet clear in feeling. Primal, reactive fear. For a moment, her eyes are glassy and distant.
"… a resurgence of unpleasant dreams."
Brenda put up with Sharon's quiet scrutiny for a long time, much longer than she usually did. Sharon could tell that the other woman hadn't been sleeping before Charlie's arrival, but she believed that it had something to do with the man taped onto her monitor. She knew the Chief wasn't being completely truthful with her, though.
"How are you feeling today?" Sharon asked, retrieving a water bottle from somewhere and placing it on Brenda's desk.
"Hmm?" She squinted, then shook her head. "I'm fine, Captain, thank you."
"Mhm. Why don't you, Charlie and Agent Howard come over for dinner?"
"We couldn't put you out like that," Brenda replied quickly.
"Nonsense, Chief. It'd be my pleasure."
"Are we going to dinner?"
"I—"
Brenda looked helplessly between Charlie, standing in the doorway with her sugary frozen drink, Gabriel behind her, and Sharon. Gabriel was making encouraging motions behind Charlie's head, and she wanted with all her heart to get rid of the dejected look in her niece's eyes, and she looks excited for the first time since she's been here. She feels herself give in.
"Yes, okay. We'll let you know."
Now to get Fritz to agree.
chapter title from Hvy Mtl Drmr by Des Rocs
*Characters & any added script dialogue belongs to TNT. I also make no money from this work.
dedicated to several (ao3) users who have inspired me by the way they included song lyrics at the top of their fics or had music inspire their work, in particular missparker, sarken, ubiquitousmixie among others im sure im just not recalling right now. but that helped my creative process so much, seeing the lyrics represent my work as i was going, so that's what i did. i found poetry spoke for some chapters as well. so, thank you, any and all who have contributed to the hours ive trolled these pages reading Brenda/Sharon, and my continued progress on my fics, because without you guys it wouldn't be possible. your creations are truly works of art and I couldn't hope to compare, I simply offer what I have. 3