A/N: the beginning of this chapter takes place during the season two episode Serving the King, so if you haven't seen it either watch it or IMDB that shit so you know who Andrew is. Special thanks goes to Babs, for beta-ing and for assisting me with her Air Force Training and knowledge of military protocol.
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Los Angeles, December 2006
It has been a year and a half, almost exactly, since Sharon learned of Brenda's arrival in LA, and there are some days when she doesn't even think of the little blonde sitting in her office four floors above Sharon's own. This, however, was not going to be one of those days, because from the moment Sharon woke up she had the feeling that something awful was going to happen, and she couldn't help but think that Brenda Leigh will be responsible for it.
Brenda Leigh had already managed to ruin Sharon's relationship with Andy, and it is this fact that Sharon focused on as she rose, much earlier than she would like to, shambling into her shower desperate to feel the hot water. Things had been fine before Brenda Leigh arrived, and even for a while after, but their precarious happiness had not lasted long. The more time Andy spent with Brenda the more he seemed to admire her; Sharon watched it, watched him soften in regards to his new boss, watched him slowly but surely turning on Taylor. There was nothing she could do to stop it, and before she knew it Andy had been completely suckered in by Brenda Leigh's charm, and Sharon had to actively try not to yell at him for it, not to tell him everything she knew of the Deputy Chief. There were some days she wanted to scream it, scream until she was blue in the face and everyone understood what Brenda had meant to her, what she had meant to Brenda, what they had done to each other.
But she didn't. She just watched Andy slip slowly away, spending more and more time at work, becoming more and more put out with Sharon's position in Internal Affairs, until finally neither of them could stand to be in the other's presence any longer. They avoided each other now, and Sharon's kids never asked about him any more.
She was wondering about him this morning, though, wondering about how he was doing back in Robbery Homicide, wondering how Brenda Leigh was doing with her administrative leave. Originally Pope wanted Sharon to run that investigation herself, but she could imagine no fate worse than having to investigate Brenda's squad, to be the person responsible for taking Brenda away from her job and calling her capabilities into question. Of course Pope had demanded a reason, and, desperate to find a good excuse and get the hell out of the whole mess, Sharon had done the unthinkable. She had disclosed her prior relationship with Andy Flynn and told Pope that she didn't think she could be objective.
The look on Pope's face when she spoke those words was very nearly worth it; evidently the Assistant Chief didn't think she had it in her. She worried in the beginning that her revelation might adversely affect her career, but there was talk of a new division being created within Internal Affairs, and Sharon knew her name was on the list of possible candidates to run it. The promotion would result in Sharon being named Captain, and that prospect was exciting. She would have her own squad, and she would answer to no one. But she would also only be investigating the use of force by LAPD officers, and she knew that no job in the department could make her more hated than that one.
Sharon shuffled out of her shower and got ready to face her day, dressing quietly before waking up her two youngest children and starting the coffee maker. Garrett was off at college, his freshman year, and she found the house oddly quiet without her oldest son. Much cleaner, too, without his clothes everywhere, football cleats and sneakers and dirty socks piled up in the corner by the front door. Sometimes when she was cleaning the house she still went to pick them up, and found herself suddenly, inexplicably sad when she found the corner neat and tidy, not a uniform or dirty towel in sight.
She took Ethan and Lily to school, watching her children rushing out of the car, as far away from her as they could get, off to see their friends and start their day and leaving Sharon, once again, very much alone.
The rest of her drive was quiet, as peaceful as cruising through 9am traffic in LA could be. Sharon parked and walked up to her office, armed with her coffee mug and a scowl, hoping no one would try to speak to her this morning. Whatever disaster was looming over her head, she was going to try to hide from it for as long as she could.
Which turned out to be not very long at all, for the moment Sharon stepped onto the elevator she found herself face to face with someone she had not seen in a very long time, someone she thought she would never see again.
"Andrew!" she said, shocked, wondering if protocol in this situation called for a hug or a handshake or if she should simply keep a reserved distance.
"Sharon Raydor," he said, his voice soft and slow as always, though his eyes twinkled with his surprise. He did look awful; she had heard a while back that he was dying, that he had lost his touch, that the Agency was ready to let him go. Seeing him in person for the first time in nearly ten years, Sharon had no problem believing it. For some reason it made her sad to see this man who had once been so great laid so low. She wondered if he felt the same thing when he saw her.
"What on earth are you doing here?" he asked, stepping aside to give her room on the elevator next to him.
"Working," she said with a shrug. "Trying to stay out of trouble. What about you?"
He smiled tightly. "I fear I am here to do the exact opposite. I believe I might be stirring up quite a bit of trouble." He studied her carefully and she noted that his steely gaze was still the same. She still had the feeling he could read her like a book, and she knew his mind well enough for that prospect to scare her. She crossed her arms over her chest.
"Did you know our Brenda Leigh is working here as well?" Andrew asked shrewdly, and the words cut through Sharon like a knife. Our Brenda Leigh. They had often referred to the little blonde that way in the beginning; Andrew and Sharon were the ones who had trained Brenda, who had helped her find her place in the CIA, and they had watched like proud parents as she became one of the best interrogators the Agency had seen in some time.
Sharon stared straight ahead, determined not to catch his eye.
"I did know that, yes."
Andrew nodded. "I wonder if she knows that you're here," he said, and Sharon sighed, running her fingers through her hair. He had seen it, somehow, had realized that Sharon had not gone to Brenda, that their protégé had no idea her mentor was in Los Angeles, let alone in the same building. It was a miracle they hadn't bumped into each other at some point, but the Parker Center building was large, and Sharon usually took the stairs to avoiding running into people. She was beginning to wish she had taken the stairs this morning; as nice as it was to see Andrew again, the direction this conversation had taken had made her uncomfortable.
"Do you know," Andrew said, watching her carefully, "I saw Brenda Leigh the morning you left. She was standing outside your office, and when I asked her what she was doing, she very nearly started to cry. She told me she was waiting for you to come home."
Sharon caught her bottom lip between her teeth, determined not to say anything. She didn't trust herself to speak.
"I'm sure she meant to say that she was waiting for you to come back," Andrew continued. The elevator dinged on Sharon's floor and the doors slid open; Andrew caught her by the sleeve as she tried to slip past him. "I have never in my life seen anything quite so sad as Brenda Leigh Johnson unable to control her own tongue. I hope you'll go to her, Sharon. And soon."
He let go of her and let the door slide closed between them, leaving Sharon alone. Her feet turned on autopilot, carrying her towards her office without her consent as she struggled to keep herself together.
I'm waiting for Sharon to come home… She could almost hear Brenda's voice in her mind, and the thought of it tore at her, disturbing all the broken pieces of her heart and making her feel the wrong she had done more keenly than she had in years. She had taken Brenda Leigh, every part of her, and given the woman nothing in return. She had run when she should have stayed, and there could be no forgiveness for what she had done. For a moment she briefly considered running up the four flights of stairs separating her from the Priority Murder Squad but that notion disappeared as quickly as it came when Sharon remembered that Brenda was gone, her squad dismembered and scattered.
The office loomed before her and Sharon ducked inside, throwing herself behind the desk and burying her head in her hands.
Not today, please, God, not today, she thought, but she couldn't stop herself, couldn't keep the memories from washing over her as the wintry sunlight filtered in through the cracks in the blinds.
September 1996, somewhere in Afghanistan
The mission hadn't gone quite as planned. They had found the woman they were looking for, but she had been skittish, afraid to talk to the Americans. She was the sister of a prominent leader in the resistance, and her gender had enabled her to slip through the man's house unnoticed, and given her access to the kind of information that Sharon and Brenda could use to stop the next attack before it ever happened. This woman was the reason they were in Afghanistan in the first place; they'd spent weeks analyzing intel and creating inroads in the community. They'd been there for so long that Brenda was even beginning to pick up a few words in Dari, and Sharon was absurdly proud of how well the little blonde had done.
This most recent interaction with their source had left Sharon more than a little put out, however, and she sat glumly in the front seat of the Humvee, not speaking as their convoy wound its way through the desert and back to the base. Brenda sensed her foul mood and did not try to engage her in conversation as she so often did, and the noise of six Humvees rolling down the makeshift road was the only sound to be heard.
Until the bomb went off. Theirs was the second vehicle in line, and as the one in front of them exploded in a burst of color and sound that sent their own Humvee careening wildly off on its side, shrapnel and bullets flying as a cloud of insurgents descended on them, Sharon only had a moment to reach out for Brenda's hand before they collided with the ground and Sharon lost consciousness.
She would learn what happened later; the first vehicle had struck an IED, and the force of the blast combined with the waiting ambush claimed the lives of everyone in it, as well as the driver of Sharon's Humvee. Brenda had grabbed Sharon by the shoulders and dragged her out of the smoldering wreckage of their vehicle and kept her hidden behind it as the soldiers streamed out of the convoy, trying to roust the enemy fighters. It was Brenda who kept Sharon alive in the chaos, and it was Brenda who refused to let the woman out of her sight until they were finally shepherded back to the safety of the base.
When Sharon finally awoke it was well after dark, and she found herself nestled in the sheets of her bunk, a sleepy-looking Brenda Leigh perched in a chair by her bed, lip caught alluring between her teeth.
"Hey," Brenda said, and she instinctively reached out to help Sharon as the dark-haired woman struggled to pull herself upright.
"How are you feeling?" Brenda asked, handing Sharon a glass of water before she even had a chance to ask for it.
"Surprisingly okay," Sharon answered, wincing as she rubbed a hand over the tender spot on her head.
"You don't have a concussion," Brenda supplied helpfully.
Sharon studied the face of the young woman leaning over her. She had noticed on more than one occasion just how lovely her partner was, but she couldn't recall a time she'd ever been quite this close to her before. Sharon fancied that through the dust and sweat that seemed to cover everyone here she could actually smell Brenda Leigh, the softness and light of the blonde who had saved her life. She couldn't say how she knew that it was Brenda, but in that moment she did. She knew it like she knew her name, knew that Brenda Leigh had taken the risk and protected her despite the danger, and she warmed all over at the thought.
"You saved me, didn't you?" Sharon asked softly, wanting to hear it, wanting justification, proof that her gut feeling was right, and the blush that spread over Brenda's cheeks was answer enough.
"Thank you," Sharon said, her voice choked with unshed tears, and Brenda reached out, brushing a lock of auburn hair from Sharon's face.
"There was no way I could leave you there," Brenda said, her voice so very low and sad, and Sharon felt it, all the fear she'd missed when she was unconscious. She pictured Brenda, hunkered down behind the burning wreck of the Humvee, her arms wrapped around Sharon as men died around them and guns lit up the afternoon air. She imagined what it must have felt like, waiting as the seconds dragged on and the fighting continued unabated. She shivered, a tear escaping her for what Brenda had gone through, for the guilt she felt at not having been there for this little woman who had come to mean everything to her over the last few weeks.
Brenda shifted, rising out of her chair to perch next to Sharon on the edge of the bed, leaning forward to drop a kiss on Sharon's cheek beside the salty trail her tears had left.
"Please don't cry," Brenda said quietly but Sharon just kept right on, pulling Brenda close. The blonde went willingly, allowing herself to be pressed tightly against Sharon's body. And even through her tears Sharon couldn't ignore the warmth of Brenda's skin against her own, or the way they seemed to fit together so well, even at this awkward angle.
Sharon's tears did eventually subside and then there was no reason for her to keep on holding on to Brenda Leigh, but neither of them made a move to separate. They remained together, their hearts beating faster but still somehow in time with one another until Sharon looked up into Brenda's eyes to find them shining with the same feeling that had begun to gather somewhere deep inside her.
They moved together then, Sharon's head tilting up as Brenda's tilted down and then their lips met, softly, tentatively, just brushing at first. Sharon's husband and children back home forgotten in the face of this opportunity to relieve the tension that had been building between them for months now. If her only motivation in kissing Brenda Leigh Johnson was the adrenaline from their brush with death earlier in the day it might have been easier for Sharon to pull away, to blame this on something else and go on with her life, but it wasn't. She'd wanted this for ages now, wanted to be close to Brenda, wanted to know what those lips might taste like under her own, and now that the chance presented itself she found herself reluctant to move away.
And more importantly Brenda was kissing her back, winding her fingers in short red hair and pulling Sharon headlong into the kind of passion each of them had always known could potentially exist between them. Brenda ran her tongue along Sharon's lips in question and Sharon shuddered with want, opening beneath the blonde and sliding her hands down to rest on Brenda's waist. Sharon, still sitting back against the headboard, maneuvered the blonde onto her lap, their tongues and lips never once breaking contact as the kiss grew deeper, more desperate.
"I almost lost you today," Brenda breathed against Sharon's lips, her hands coming down to frame the older woman's face, tearful brown eyes searching the green pair staring right back at her. Sharon reached up and took hold of one Brenda's hands, dragging it down to rest against the inside of her left breast, against the steady hammering of her heart.
"I'm here," Sharon whispered. "I'm here."
Brenda's fingers curled against her flesh, kneading the mound under her palm, feeling Sharon's nipples pebbling through the flimsy fabric of her tank top until the older woman shuddered beneath her, pulling her lips away from Brenda's to let loose a breathy moan. Brenda took the sound for permission to continue, shifting so that she could pull the lightweight shirt up and off, revealing most of Sharon to her hungry eyes. Years later, just the memory of the predatory expression on Brenda Leigh's face in that moment would be enough to make Sharon shiver with arousal; in the moment, with Brenda's hands warm on her skin and her voice close in Sharon's ear, it was nearly enough to make her come on the spot.
"You're so fucking gorgeous," Brenda whispered, her voice ragged, her lips caressing the skin just behind the curve of her ear.
"Jesus, Brenda, you're wearing too many clothes," Sharon growled in response and the blonde perched on her lap laughed out loud before pulling off her own top, leaving an expanse of creamy white skin behind for Sharon to explore. She felt the rush of wetness between her thighs, felt the urgent need to touch, to kiss, to lick every inch of that skin, to hear Brenda scream, and she had neither the time nor the energy to wonder why. She only knew that she wanted Brenda Leigh, more than anything, and she was going to have her.
Brenda's mouth, warm and wet and hotter than Sharon ever thought it might be, was burning a trail down the older woman's chest, heading straight for the aching peak of her breast, and all Sharon could do was wind her hands in long blonde curls and hold Brenda closer to her, whimpering when she finally felt Brenda's mouth right where she needed it. She arched her back, pushing more of herself against Brenda's lips, and was rewarded with a gentle bite to the very tip of her nipple. Sharon did her very best not to scream, cognizant of the fact that, no matter what time it was, there were always people awake and walking around the base.
Sharon slid her hands down Brenda's sides, heading for the loose waist of the military issue sweatpants the little blonde wore, and did not hesitate in sliding her hands inside, fingers searching until they found the warmth and wet at Brenda's center.
The little blonde shot upright, rising up on her knees and bucking her hips down against Sharon's hand, gasping and trying to silence her moans with a lip caught between her teeth. She was always doing that; Sharon had told her to stop it when they were out on missions but here she found the sight incredibly attractive. She leaned forward, catching Brenda's mouth with her own and sucking that bottom lip between her own teeth as she eased one finger through Brenda's folds and up inside her.
"Fuck, Sharon," Brenda whispered, amazed somehow, and Sharon found herself unable to keep from laughing at the fact that Miss Prim and Proper Brenda Leigh cursed like a sailor in bed.
Brenda's hands flew down Sharon's body, and the auburn-haired woman parted her legs as much as she could manage with Brenda still partially astride her lap, moaning when she felt just the tips of Brenda's fingers brushing against her own wet folds.
"Wanna feel you," Brenda murmured against Sharon's neck, dropping a serious of suckling kisses there. "Want you to come with me."
Sharon added a finger as Brenda's own breached her, and they cried out together, each looking appropriately abashed at the echoing of the sound in their tiny room. Sharon kissed Brenda again then, hard, swallowing the sounds they made as they thrust and writhed together, each pushing the other higher and higher until they came together, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over them until they lay back against the pillows, boneless and spent.
Sharon pushed Brenda Leigh's hair back so she could see the young woman's face, and she found dark brown eyes staring up at her, utterly open and utterly full of the kind of affection that pulled at Sharon's heartstrings, made her never want to leave this bed.
Brenda just kept smiling up at her. "I get the feeling you've done this before," she said slyly and Sharon just smiled, leaning down to kiss her gently.
"That's funny, I was going to say the same thing about you," she answered. "But let's have that conversation another time, shall we?"
Brenda nodded, snuggling closer into Sharon's warmth, and Sharon held her tighter, unsure of where to go from here but knowing that, wherever it was, they would be going together.
Los Angeles, December 2006
Sharon lifted her head, shocked to find her body warm and her face stained with tears. What the hell am I doing? she wondered, trying to shake the feeling of sorrow that had buried itself in her bones. That first time, that first night, she'd been thinking only of herself and Brenda Leigh, only of the desire between them and the potential they had together. And after their first taste of what they could be together they had been unable to stop; always the consummate professionals at work they often met at Brenda's home or in hotels to spend stolen hours together. Their missions abroad became fewer and fewer as Sharon's family's demands on her time grew, and the few trips they did make together were each filled with a sort of fairy-tale glow, days and days when Sharon didn't have to worry about her family and they could just be.
That time had passed all too quickly, however, and now where were they? Sharon had learned that Brenda was living with a handsome FBI agent; lucky her, Sharon thought ruefully. The last conversation Sharon had with Jack was the yearly argument about where the kids were going to spend Christmas. Sharon had won, but only on the condition that she ship her children off to Virginia to see Jack on their spring break. This was what her life had come to, avoiding Brenda Leigh in the halls at work and fighting with her ex-husband about who could have their kids on the holidays.
It's your own damn fault, she thought morosely. It was her fault, all her fault, for thinking she could have Brenda and Jack both, and the last thing she wanted was to storm into Brenda's life as though the Deputy Chief owed her anything. She knew better. She would keep her head down, and she would try to forget the warmth of Brenda Leigh's smile.