"it's like this:
say there's a whole room of people and
you're somewhere in the middle of them all.
i walk in and i see you, but you don't
suddenly become the only person in the
room. god no. you become the room. you
are the room."
- Salma Deera, Letters From Medea.

Brenda hurried into the restaurant, only ten minutes late. A waiter pointed her to where Sharon sat sipping a red wine with a glass waiting across her, looking far too beautiful for their casual night out. Then again, Brenda wore a little black dress just bordering on inappropriate, skirting her mid-thigh and her cleavage flirting with being indecent - with nude tights - and hoped that Sharon wouldn't pick up on her nervousness.

She had forgone the giant bag for tonight and just brought a small clutch instead. Sharon nodded to her when she sat.

"How was your interview with the Mayor?"

"Can't I even get a taste of this wine before you start asking about work?" Brenda teased.

Sharon rolled her eyes, "The Mayor?"

Brenda took a sip of wine and smiled. "Ooh, this a good one, thank you for orderin'. The Mayor asked about politics, made a joke about some Commissioner I don't know, and then said I looked great," she deadpanned.

"What did you say when he asked about politics? Which Commissioner?"

She rolled her eyes. "I told him I don't have any interest in politics. He nodded and we changed the subject. And I told you, I don't know which one. I forgot his name."

Sharon hummed and took a sip of her wine. "I ordered an appetizer for us while we're here."

"Oh, thank you!"

"I really think you could do good as Chief of Police," Sharon says.

"Is that what this is about," Brenda raises an eyebrow, wineglass dangling from her fingers.

Sharon has the good grace to blush. "N-no, Chief! Of course not. I asked you to come to dinner as friends."

"But if winin'-and-dinin' me gets me used to the idea of being Chief…?" Brenda hedged.

The other woman nodded hesitantly, before smirking. "I've been known to stoop to bribery should the occasion call for it."

"I doubt I'm what he's looking for, Sharon, but I won't say no to your persuasive methods," she raises a suggestive eyebrow.

Sharon's face explodes in color just as the waiter arrives with the appetizer. Eventually, she's the first one to look away.

"I like this," Brenda says softly, halfway into their meal and a second glass of wine, fiddling with the stem of the glass and peering up from under her lashes. "Us bein' friends."

Sharon stared at her with just the hint of a blush, looking for a sign of deception. All she saw was a rare insight to a vulnerable Brenda, being honest with her.

"Me too," she replied, tried to suppress the butterflies when Brenda grinned widely at that. "But don't get too used to me, by the next investigation we have to work on together I'm sure you'll find a reason to hate me."

Brenda pouted. "Now why'dya have to go and jinx it, Sharon? We've been doin' so good! Quick, knock on wood!"

Sharon rolled her eyes.

But underneath the table, she rapped her knuckles against the wood, meeting Brenda's eyes. They burst out into laughter. It hadn't been this easy for them to get here, this camaraderie, this chemistry. Chemistry, her mind wandered, slightly tipsy not only from the wine, but from everything about the night - Brenda's laugh, her perfume, the black dress that Sharon wanted to pull right off her. Chemistry. Brenda and I exploded when we first met. I wonder how...

She placed a hand on the table and pushed her wine away from her. That's how she knew enough was enough for the night - she still needed to drive home. A warm hand covered hers and stopped all train of thought. Sharon broke out into a sweat.

"Are you alright, Sharon?"

"Um?"

Brenda squeezed her hand. "I said, are you alright?"

Sharon cleared her throat and pulled her hand back slowly. "I'm alright. I just realized I still need to drive home," she tried not to let her eyes trail down to her friend's cleavage - tried and failed - and crossed her legs in a way she hoped seemed prim rather than trying to alleviate the pulse of arousal.

"Shoot, you're right," Brenda looked at her watch. "I need to start sobering up, too."

"Why, got a hot date?"

"She's right here," Brenda quipped without missing a beat. "No, I have to feed Joel."

"... Joel?" Does she have kids? Sharon thought in horror. How have I never asked about her kids? She thinks back to their first dinner. I had to have asked if she has kids. Right?

"Cat," Brenda replied, taking a large sip of water, as if the quantity at once will sober her faster.

Ohthankgod.

Sharon glares discretely at her wineglass.

No more wine with Brenda.

chapter title from it will come back by hozier