So sorry I kinda abandoned this story, but I hope you all are still with me. :)

I've been watching pork rot (for my grand science final) and other little things have bogged me down. And while I avoid 2 research projects, I figured I might continue these stories I had going.

Enjoy!

Brenda sniffled as she squatted over the toilet, heels resting above the seat. The division knew her title was given to her because she had seduced Chief Pope, and they probably wouldn't listen to her rantings about her messed up life. The details of her divorce were still being settled, her father had taken ill, and she had been kicked from her last division. Why? She didn't like rules.

They seem to be specific in the wrong areas and loose where they shouldn't be.

"Fuck rules," Brenda sobbed as she blew her nose very noisily into toilet paper.

"People ask the difference between a leader and a boss.

The leader leads,

And the boss drives."

-Theodore Roosevelt

Sharon sat idly at her desk. She watched as Provenza and Tao lazily threw a paper airplane across the room, and Andy crumbled receipts in his hand and (attempted to) throw them into the trash bin.

"How'd you know she slept with Pope?" Provenza asked as the paper airplane sailed from his fingers.

Sharon shrugged and mumbled, "Lucky guess."

"Why would she sleep with him? It's only a job, right?" Tao asked.

"Mmhmm," Sharon mumbled, pulling a magazine from her purse and flipping throughout the pages with no commitment to the articles.

An awkward silence followed; more airplanes, and receipts were thrown near the trash.

"What do you want me to do? I can't fire her because that shows I favor you!" Pope argued.

"But you do favor me over all of them," Brenda purred, walking sexily around Pope's desk. She drew her finger over the corner of the desk as she walked and let her eyes follow her finger. Pope's gaze never left her. She cupped Pope's face and ran grazed his cheeks with her thumbs. Pope's hands grasped her wrists and he brought his face closer to her, placing a passionate kiss on her lips. Brenda slid down onto his lap; like a kid sitting on Santa's lap and telling the big guy what they want for Christmas.

"Send them away. I don't like them," Brenda whined as she buried her face into Pope's shoulder. "Send them away," she whispered.

An hour after the confrontation with Brenda, Pope strutted into the murder room. He looked a little disheveled, and his shirt was a button off. There was a red lipstick kiss under his collar.

Sharon rolled her eyes and turned her attention back to the magazine.

"You have a new challenge. Detective Montgomery, Detective Flynn you're going on a field trip."

Sharon's head snapped at her name. She was going on field trip with him?

"We're what?" Flynn asked.

"You're going to Cincinnati, Ohio to participate in the Word Association of Detectives conference. It's the 50th conference this organization has held. Be at LAX by nine, your flight leaves at ten fifty- five tonight. You miss it, you'll have to drive," Pope stated. He watched the bewildered looks on the two detectives' faces. "You'll have fun and you will learn from this conference. You'll be gone for three days, pack well, and safe travels." Pope grinned like a cheshire cat.

Once he was out of hearing range, Flynn turned to Sharon and said, "I hate him."

Two suitcases and a carry-on of essential later, Sharon finally thought she was packed. She combed through her hair one last time and made sure she looked somewhat presentable. She did a walk through of her small apartment to make sure she had everything.

Taking a suitcase in each hand and the carry-on over her shoulder, Sharon made her way to the building's elevator.

Andy had promised to pick her up at eight thirty and bring her to the airport. He said that it would be a long trip and hoped that they could set everything aside. What he meant by that was still a mystery to her.

She sat idly on her luggage, feet swinging loosely in the warm December air. She had worn her best jean skirt, and a cute lacy top. Her strapped cork wedges already had blisters forming, but Sharon felt pretty and only hoped Andy would recognize her efforts.

"Sharon?" Asked as he got out of his beaten up red Peugeot 304 coupe. Sharon stood, but a little too quickly and stumbled gracelessly to her feet.

"Hi," Sharon breathed as she righted herself and nervously played with her hands. "Sorry," she whispered.

"No need to apologize," Andy said with a smile that could shame the night stars. There was a silent pause. Sharon kept her head down and tried to fight back an embarrassed blush back. What if he didn't like her like she thought?

Andy took in her appearance, she looked young and free. He was enjoying the flowing jean skirt that ended just below her knees. she has great legs, Andy thought.

He cleared his throat; behave, he told himself.

"Are you ready?"

"Yes," Sharon answered, a little too quickly. Another silence fell between them, as awkward as the last.

"Let me take your bags," Andy offered, taking a suitcase in each hand. Sharon took her carry-on and let herself into his car.

The ride to the airport was silent.

LAX was pleasantly quiet, security was a breeze (due to Pope talking to the director).

They both got a sandwich and a bottle of water to bring on the plane with them. Both sat in comfortable silence, waiting for the plane to be boarded.

At ten forty-five, their seats were called; Andy and Sharon boarded the plane.

Not even ten minutes after take off, Sharon was asleep, her head rested on the window; a pillow propped between her and the plastic of the plane.

Andy smiled as he watched her in her peacefully sleep. Her mouth hung open slightly, and her eyelids flickered. Sharon curled further against the plane, tucking her feet, heels and all, onto the seat.

She must do yoga or something, because that doesn't seam comfortable, Andy thought.

"She your wife?" A man asked. He was sitting in the aisle row next to Andy.

"No," Andy whispered sadly.

"Girlfriend?" The man pried.

"I wish," Andy mumbled to himself. "No," Andy replied to the man.

"At least take the poor woman's heels off. My wife-" the man motioned to the woman currently sleeping on his right shoulder, "Would murder me if I had let her sleep with her heels on. They're cute and all on women, but what they do to their feet," the man made a little shuddering motion. Andy smiled and put down his book. Carefully, Andy unstrapped the wedges and pulled them gently from Sharon's feet.

"Thanks," Andy said. Offering his hand he continued, "Name's Andrew."

"John," the man said as he attempted to shake hands.

There was a little pause, neither knew what to say, but it was going to be a long flight and having someone to talk to would help pass time.

"Where are you two going?" Andy asked, attempting small talk.

"Cincinnati. We're both detectives, heading to a conference. You?"

"Huh. Same place. How is it working with your wife?" Andy asked, genuinely interested in how the married couple worked together on the team.

"It's definitely testing at times. She being my superior officer and all. But we get along, and I listen. Occasionally," John paused, looked around and lowered his voice. Leaning into the aisle, John whispered to Andy, "But we always make up."

By five forty-five Cincinnati time the next morning, the flight attendant announced that they were making their final descent to CVG airport.

"You better wake her," John suggested nodding to Sharon. John turned and gently kissed his wife awake.

Sometime during the four hour flight, Sharon had shifted her position. She wasn't sleeping up against the plane anymore, now she was sleeping comfortably on Andy's chest. Andy didn't mind one bit, and only wished he could kiss her awake like John did his wife.

Sorry I have to cut it off here, I promise an update coming though!

I have also recently discovered that my favorite teacher of all time watching Major Crimes as well…

That made my life :)

She (my teacher) reminds me of Sharon Raydor.