He's right where she wants him, there in her bed
Searching for something that's already dead
Oh she's losing herself, slowly she turns into somebody else
Finding the worst through a love made in Hell
Playing the cards she's been dealt
(No matter the price she wears it well)

She has her head in her heart and a broken body
Never wrong but she always says sorry
Takes the pain and throws away her pride
For a man with a hole in the middle of his chest
Promising herself she'll always see the best
So she stays and gives away her life

Cause it's easier to keep holdin' on to something sweet
In her mind, the more he lies, she justifies
But why?
Is this really what she chose?
Wide awake but comatose?
Head In Her Heart - Nico Collins

Fritz enters the house after work and drops his briefcase in the expectant way that he drops things - heavily, like she should know what she's done.

"Today was interesting," Fritz starts, and she thinks, here come the dramatics.

"Was it?" She asks pleasantly, refusing to play that game. Don't read into subtext, she remembers a piece of advice Sharon gave her while talking about her separated-husband.

"Imagine my surprise when Sharon Raydor comes to vett me and brings up my DUIs and the amount of AA meetings I go to each week," Fritz snaps. "For a job I didn't know my wife was putting in for."

Oh, that woman!

"I haven't even turned in the application, Fritz, look. I haven't even signed it," she tries explaining, but showing him that she has it, unsigned but filled out, does nothing to calm him.

"A heads up would've been nice," he scoffs, practically tossing the application back to her. "How long have you known?"

"A week but Fritz, Fritz! I haven't even told my squad!" She calls after him incredulously. "And besides, I'm not sure I even want the job! Sharon came recruiting me for the pool of candidates, she's the L.A.P.D's Women's coordinator or… whatever."

Fritz sticks his head around the corner, looking baffled now. "Really? Why not?"

"Why not what?" Brenda asks, reading glasses on and looking up from files she brought home.

"Why don't you want to be Chief of Police?" He clarifies, returning to the kitchen fully.

"Because, Fritz," she puts her files aside before getting off the couch and walking to the kitchen so he can hear her. "Because, Fritz, politics? Being a bureaucrat? I don't think that's for me. I like running Major Crimes. I'm doing something here."

She leans on the entryway. "Besides, what about Pope?"

"What about Pope?!" Fritz exclaims.

Brenda pouts. "Will is putting in for the job. He's had his heart set on it for years."

Fritz scoffs. "So?"

Brenda blinks. "So… I couldn't possibly do that to him."

"After all the times he's stabbed you in the back or left you to take the fall?" Fritz asks, looking at her like she has two heads.

"And… and… what about my division?"

"Oh, now we're getting into it! You have three Lieutenants. Promote one of them!"

Her phone starts ringing, and both of them start to look at her purse.

"Don't tell me you're going to answer that," Fritz says.

Her face scrunches up as her phone continues to ring, and then she lunges for her purse and fumbles around until she finds her phone, hitting 'answer'.

"Chief Johnson," she answers.

"Unbelievable," he says, and turns around and leaves the room.

"Fritz!" She whisper-yells, holding the phone to her shoulder. "Yes, I'm here Sergeant-Detective Gabriel," she brings the phone back to her ear.

"Delegate and hang up the phone," Fritz demands, seething.

"You're going to make them think we're fighting!" Brenda hisses.

"We are fighting," Fritz says through gritted teeth, glaring at the phone held to her shoulder.

She can hear Provenza and Flynn on the other side of the line. "We got handed this from Hollywood division… we have this handled Chief," more quietly, she hears him whisper, "I think they're fighting!"

Oh, that drama loving… "Lieutenant!" She snaps, and can practically hear them all jump. "I want to be updated on this case. I'll be in the office as soon as the suns up."

"Sure thing, Chief," Provenza replied, hearing the dial-tone click almost immediately after and handing Gabriel back his phone, who stared at it, bewildered, before shaking his head and pocketing it.

"You know what that was about?" Gabriel asks while they move through the crime scene.

Provenza shakes his head. "Nope," he grunts. "And we're going to stay out of it."

"But that sounded—"

"And you know how she gets when we meddle, Sergeant," he extended an arm towards where their body lay. "After you, college boy."

"I thought that nickname wore out it's welcome a couple years ago," Gabriel muttered as he donned gloves.

"Oh, Gabriel," Provenza clapped him on the shoulder before he pulled on gloves of his own. "Nicknames are a reusable resource."

Gabriel just chuckles. "Are they now?"

"Mhm. A nickname is a nickname for a reason. No matter how much someone changes… a nickname stays the same."

"You wanna know what I think?"

"Yeah?"

"I think you're full of crap."

Provenza just smirked. "Well, I might be."

Meanwhile, back at the Johnson-Howard house, things hadn't gotten less hostile.

"You had that, that job offer in D.C. that you didn't say anything about," she snaps, following him across the living room.

"I didn't seriously consider the job in D.C!" He yells back, and she clenches her jaw.

"I'm not seriously considering this job either! And besides, that wasn't the point! You should have told me about the job regardless - you were mad at me for something I didn't know about."

Fritz rolls his eyes and plows forward. "And that's another thing - why aren't you considering this seriously. Maybe some emotional distance from your cases would be good? Less time in the field, and—"

"More time behind a desk? Paperwork? Cameras? The dinners, the parties?" Brenda stuck her tongue out. "Gross, Fritz. Yuck."

"The pay raise, the connections you'd make—"

"I said I'm not considering it seriously, Fritz," she says firmly, making her way to the bedroom. "I don't want to be the Chief of Police."

He sighs and comes up behind her, rubbing her arms. "You'd make a good Chief," he reasons, and then grins. "You'd look great in the uniform."

"Would I now?" Brenda asks.

"Oh, I'm sure you'd make it look a lot better than Pope ever would." Fritz says.

Brenda chuckled. "Of course I would."

chapter title from ghost of a king by the gray havens