Shut Up Kiss

Brenda was…infuriating. No, that wasn't right, Sharon thought a second later, mentally backtracking and searching her brain for a better adjective. She was past thinking of Brenda as infuriating. There was more to the woman than that.

She rubbed at her temples with her fingertips and waited patiently for the deputy chief to finish her annoyed rant. They were sharing a case - or something that resembled sharing, since the take-charge blonde across from her seemed to have never grasped the concept of sharing when she was a child and Sharon needed to keep reminding her that they were on the same side. It had been three days of working close with Chief Johnson, which, if Sharon were to be honest with herself, wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. She was fantastic at her job. Sharon didn't agree with her methods all the time, but the fact that Brenda knew how to get out of people what she needed was undeniable.

Brenda pushed her hair away from her face and then yanked her left desk drawer open, her eyes staying on the captain even as her hand blindly searched for something. She would pull out a square of milk chocolate, Sharon knew without waiting, having watched this same pattern every evening for the past three days. After Brenda sent everyone home, they'd go into the blonde's office. They would talk about the case, calmly - Sharon would even consider saying they were somewhat more than civil when they were alone, friendly. Then, Brenda would get frustrated by the lack of evidence, the lack of witnesses - or the lack of both, as was what had caused the shift in her mood tonight. Sharon had learned when she needed to let Brenda get out her frustration and when it was best to stop her before they got stuck in a never-ending cycle that would get them nowhere.

Once the chocolate was out - a foiled square, just as Sharon expected; she smirked slightly to herself - Sharon knew the chief's annoyed, angry words would mellow out to something that was softer, needier, more of a whine than anything else. It was something she was used to hearing from the woman after knowing her for so long, but more times than not it was Sharon she was complaining about. These past few nights it was she who the chief complained to, and that was something different, new. Sharon reacted differently to it, her annoyance with the blonde appeared to be outweighed by the affection that only grew stronger the more time she spent getting to know Brenda. Instead of wanting to tell her to grow up and stop whining - because God, sometimes Brenda really did whine too much - Sharon found herself wanting to quiet the woman other ways. Partly because she was tired of the constant headaches, but mostly because she was starting to realize there were better things Brenda could be doing with her mouth.

When the thoughts started - and they had, like clockwork, started each night after Brenda finished her third chocolate and started walking aimlessly around her office - that was around the same time Sharon knew they both needed to call it a night. Getting Brenda to stop talking was the tricky part, especially when Sharon's mind was tired and she wasn't thinking straight. The first night she'd gotten lucky; Brenda had received a phone call and Sharon had packed up while the chief took it. The second night, Sharon hadn't actually gotten her to stop talking until they made it to their cars.

But on this third night, Sharon's head was throbbing and she was not going to listen to Brenda's southern twang all the way to her car for a second night in a row. She'd decided to politely tell Brenda she needed to get going; after all, it was late.

But Brenda, well -

Brenda had a hard time just listening to other people speak when she got like this. And Sharon was just a little bit too tired to try to get the blonde to pay attention for more than a second so she could just get out of there.

And.

Well.

Perhaps infuriating really was the word Sharon was looking for, because Brenda got under her skin in a way nobody else had in a long time.

Sharon had only put her hand on Brenda's bicep to get the woman to be still long enough to get her attention. But when she felt the muscle flex beneath her hand and noticed the way Brenda, despite fully paying attention to Sharon now, continued to talk as if Sharon hadn't been trying to get her to stop, the captain had reacted in a way she hadn't expected.

Her hand was moving faster than her brain could warn her to stop, sliding up Brenda's arm, over her shoulder, no ugly cardigan to keep her from feeling how hot and smooth the blonde's skin was. She'd gone all the way up to Brenda's neck and leaned in before Brenda even seemed to register what Sharon was doing, her voice lowering but words still leaving her lips. Sharon heard the hitch in Brenda's breath when she curled her fingers and they pressed into the chief's flesh. Her words were nearly dead on her tongue, whispered and slow.

Sharon could have said what she had to say then. She could have realized how stupid it was to be so close to Brenda - close enough to smell the chocolate on her breath, the floral scent of her hair, and close enough to feel so much more than that. Instead, Sharon's brain focused on how Brenda was still standing there, letting Sharon touch her, appearing to be waiting to see if Sharon was really going to do what it looked like she was.

And she was still talking.

Infuriating.

Fucking infuriating, she decided, pressing her mouth hard against Brenda's and finally shutting her up for a second. Her silence did not last long, not at all. She met Sharon's mouth with demanding lips and a deep groan, her hands framing Sharon's face and pulling her in deeper. The sound, much more pleasant than the never-ending groaning she'd been experiencing for most of the night, settled hot and heavy in Sharon's belly and she heard herself whimper. Brenda kissed her as if it had been she who had decided this was how the night should end, as if it had been her decision all along. And part of Sharon wondered if she had been missing some type of signs that would make it clear if she'd just walked into a well-planned out trap.

But the rest of her - oh god. The rest of her was happy to be putty in the chief's hands.

Brenda was, she decided, later that night as she thought about what she'd done and the way Brenda grinned at her before they parted ways, indescribable.