"I'm afraid of time… I mean, I'm afraid of not having enough time. Not enough time to understand people, how they really are, or to be understood myself. I'm afraid of the quick judgements or mistakes everybody makes. You can't fix them without time." — Ann Brashares

After the day she's had with Flynn and Provenza this time, of all the places she wants to be called is Will Pope's office. And she especially doesn't want to be told that her submitting an application would make things better for him.

She almost says excuse me? but really, Will is so full of himself these days that she's not sure he can see his shoes at this point. Just nods and goes on her way.

Thinks about it for the rest of the day. About how now, her applying was a good opportunity for him. How she was just there to be a pleasing option. A peahen on display.

Almost wants to start pursuing this Chief of Police thing with seriousness out of spite - because she could, that's the thing. The outpouring of support for her has, frankly, made her head do twists and turns and her stomach do flips. She's flattered but flat out confused. But she could take advantage of this, how much people want her to be their boss, and show Will Pope exactly what she thinks of his opportunities.

The only thing is she doesn't want the job. She just has absolutely zero desire to be Chief of Police. She has no interest in the circus of politics that would involve, the switch to a desk job, what would mean leaving her squad. She couldn't do it.

Full of turmoil, she picks up her phone to send Sharon a text, but hesitates. I can't run to Sharon every time I have professional trouble with Will, she scoffs.

She puts her phone back in her purse and marches out to her squad.

It's not that Brenda is really avoiding Sharon. It's just that since the shortlist came back she's been bugging her all the time in her text messages about Chief of Police business and she really doesn't want to deal with it. And she's really good at putting things off.

I mean, really! Her husband just found out, Commander Taylor and her squad didn't even know until today and it was because of Mikki Mendoza.

Sweet but tactless woman. And after the case she just worked, if she can get away from politics, she will.

But when Sharon ambushes her in her own office that night when she's about to grab her stuff and leave, she's startled but not entirely surprised.

"Why have you been ignoring my calls?"

"We're busy?" Brenda tries, crossing the room to her desk.

"And answering my non-work related text messages?"

"… we're not busy?"

Sharon put her hands on her hips. Mom-Raydor mode. "Try again."

"I'm not sure being Chief of Police would even be for me, Sharon," Brenda sighs, pulling her glasses off from double-checking something on her desk and rubbing her nose tiredly.

"You have to go to these meetings, Brenda. You can't back out of them," Sharon insists.

"Why do you care so much that I pursue this, anyway?" she huffed.

"Do you not care about a pay raise, more political influence, setting an example for little girls everywhere?" Sharon asked rhetorically, spreading her arms for emphasis as she walked around Brenda's office dramatically.

"I believe that I've earned the right to say no, as a woman, even if it involves setting an example for little girls everywhere," Brenda replies flatly, her hands planted on either side of her desk now.

"Just think about it, Chief."

"Seriously, why does this matter so much to you?" She narrows her eyes. "You want my job?"

Sharon shrugs, slipping into old habits for a moment and jabs, "Some of us had to work for our jobs the old fashioned way, you know? I've been in I.A for a long time. Moving up would be nice."

Brenda can't help the way she physically recoils from the implication hanging in the air, pushing away from her desk and ducking her head. Maybe she was just too vulnerable right then, she can't keep up her unmoved facade.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Brenda asks, not looking at Sharon anymore.

Sharon blinks and replies, "Oh, I just-I meant-It's a traditional way of earning your job, there's no shame in it, it's time honored really…"

Brenda's chest tightens a little bit at the assumption everyone makes about how she got her job because of their history. She didn't think Sharon, who had extended an olive branch herself, would be one of them, but she should've prepared for it.

The Captain realizes she messed up when Brenda's previously open expression shutters closed again, an old and deep pain flashing for a moment across brown eyes, and she clears her throat, averting her own.

"Well, Captain Raydor," Brenda finally sighed, gathering her things for the night and tying her coat around her waist. "I don't think the Mayor will be choosin' me, but I like my job right where I am, anyway. That damn promotion freeze is a nuisance, ain't it? We'll see what we can do about that."

"Brenda—"

"Maybe we should stick to titles, Captain. Not… pullin' rank. Just to be professional," she flashes a thin smile at the other woman, crossing back to her desk and shutting the lamp off. "Well. Goodnight, Captain—"

Sharon moved quickly, trying to catch the other woman's arm as she crossed for the door, but Brenda jerked away and out of her reach. "Brenda, that was an awful thing I said. I didn't—"

"You didn't what, mean it?" Brenda turned slowly, her hands in her coat pockets and shook her head. "No. They all mean it. Even if ya didn't mean t' say it."

Sharon hates that she does this. That she knows why she does this and continues to stare it plain in the face and call the sky pink when it's blue. She immediately regretted the words the minute they left her mouth.

Brenda begins to speak again, snapping her from her thoughts.

"He, ah… didn't tell me," her voice and gaze are far away, looking out at the Los Angeles night but surely lost in her mind. "Will didn't tell me he was married when the affair started. He wouldn't leave his wife for me, when she found out. Said that the legal battle was too expensive," she chuckled, but it was hollow. "So, then I moved on from the D.C. Police Department, and ended up working at the Atlanta Police Department. Then my ex-husband got spiteful and started an ethics inquiry into my conduct. I was considering taking a position at the Department of Homeland Security when Will asked me to work as a Deputy Chief of this division and the rest is history. Do you need anything else, Captain?"

"No, Chief, that'll be all," she murmurs, trying to think of ways to remedy the way she hurt the other woman but remembers a bit of workplace gossip and can't help but ask, "But he left his wife for—"

"Estelle. Yes."

There was a heavy silence between them and Sharon could feel the shame that Brenda tried to appear like she didn't carry, but was forced to. That Sharon had forced her to carry. Maybe I need sensitivity training. Provenza would find her inner turmoil just hysterical.

"I don't need your pity and I certainly don't need your misplaced sympathy, either," Brenda says suddenly, a vitriol in her voice that she hasn't heard in quite a bit, and an edge to it she's never heard.

Huh. Guess she does have claws .

"Will and I - well, we patched that up a long time ago. And he's done plenty for me since then. And I'd say I've done plenty for him. We're even. I already get the fifth degree from Fritz about Will, I don't need it from you, of all people."

Sharon blinked at the sudden flip and the vehemence of the Deputy Chief to defend someone who has stabbed her in the back more than once, briefly wonders about the insistence to see the good in someone who has anything but her best interests at heart from someone who's trained to detect people's bullshit and what that means about Brenda.

"Are you?"

Brenda shakes her head to clear it, lost in thought. "Excuse me? Am I what?"

"Are you and Chief Pope even?" Sharon challenged.

Her cheeks color. "Capt'n…"

Sharon keeps talking, urgently now, walking into Brenda's personal space. "He takes advantage of you—"

"Will has never taken advantage of me! Never!" Brenda defends, while then thinking of every way that Will has taken advantage of her - both professionally and out of the workplace.

Sharon places a hand on her hip and just stares.

"Well, maybe he ain't… this ain't none of your business anyway!" Brenda snapped. "You just accused me of earning my job by sleeping with the boss!"

Sharon, in the heat of their argument, can't stop or take back the words, "Didn't you?"

She feels terrible . The things you say to hurt out of… out of… jealousy, her mind would only whisper the word, can be vicious. I don't even have a right to be jealous.

She remembers the things she and Jackson have thrown at each other verbally. She's only shocked it was so horrible - that she and Brenda bring this out in each other.

Brenda's face falls entirely now. "He disclosed our previous relationship when he suggested hiring me to Chief Thompson," she emphasized, her accent becoming thicker. "It ended in D.C. when I left the police department. The brass already knew. They hired me because of my… qualifications working with the Company."

"'The Company'? What is this, late-night television?"

"The Department of State, Sharon. Ever heard of an NDA?" Brenda rolled her eyes, but there wasn't much malice behind it. Fondness, actually. "Chief Pope suggested that some… specialization was needed to avoid losing high-profile or sensitive cases, with my record of getting confessions."

The pieces seemed to click together for Sharon now, understanding more thoroughly why she was brought in. Brenda was Pope's damage control initiative for the L.A.P.D. Obtain confessions that lead to convictions. A lethal interrogator, something Sharon's seen in person. And if she could be manipulated by the Assistant Chief? Even better. Though Pope didn't seem to anticipate Brenda becoming unimpressed by him.

Brenda nodded as she saw Sharon getting it. "I'm sorry for snappin' at you," she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "This is uh… a sensitive subject, for me."

"Could've fooled me," Sharon quipped dryly. "But no, Brenda, I'm sorry. What I said was shameful and…"

"Please, Sharon," Brenda shook her head. "I don't need apologies from you, just…"

"Got it," Sharon tried to give her a thin smile but it looked more like a grimace. She understood what Brenda was saying: do better next time.

"I'm gonna head on home, now," Brenda says, stepping back.

"Wait," Sharon says, stepping forward, into the Chief's personal space, surprising them both. "Dinner?"

Brenda hesitates, thinking about the perfume Sharon wears that positively intoxicates her and the conversation that just soured her mood and gets ready to say no.

"I'll pay," she adds.

Brenda sighs, feeling herself give in. Dinner it is. Wine and takeout on the couch postponed.

"I couldn't let you get it all. We'll go half," she tells Sharon as she passes her, holding her office door open with a raised eyebrow.

She's still a little raw from earlier, but Sharon is the closest thing she has to a friend that's a woman now that Irene Daniels isn't in her division anymore. She can't afford to lose a friend everytime she feels insulted - she'd have no one around if that were the case. They'll be fine.

chapter title from wolf by the first aid kit