Sharon held the sobbing Brenda tightly against her, terrified to let her go. Brenda clung to her; she'd finally stopped fighting to be let go and just allowed Sharon to keep her in place.

Sharon lost track of Clay, he'd gone into the bedroom, she thought. How long ago had that been? At what point had Brenda and Sharon sunk to the floor? She pulled one arm away from Brenda with audible protests, she dialed Morales and explained the situation in a hushed voice.

Not that Brenda could hear the words anyway, she was a million miles away, she was anywhere but here in Sharon's arms.

Brenda needed to get into bed; she needed a long overdue night's sleep. She'd cry herself out soon; Sharon held her head against her shoulder, stroking her hair gingerly.

Clay exited the room, leaning against the doorframe, the shock and disbelief still coloring his features. He looked down at Sharon and she met his gaze empathetically. He let his head fall back to the doorframe and let out a shaky breath.

She wasn't sure how she was going to do it yet but she could do this; Sharon could hold the Johnsons together.

The first thing she needed to do was to put Brenda to bed. She doubted that she'd sleep very long or very well but she needed to sleep. Sharon wrapped her arms around Brenda under her arms and coaxed her up to a standing position.

She'd stopped sobbing but she was staring blankly ahead, looking like she could start back up at any time. Sharon held her tightly, "one step at a time, Brenda Leigh…" She started leading her toward the stairs, "just put one foot in front of the other; take it one step at a time."

**

"Daddy, why don't you use the walker? I got it made special." Brenda fussed, rushing to help her mother help her father down the hall.

"I'm fine, get the phone." Clay griped.

"Okay, okay."

Clay reached to steady himself on a chair but it gave way and he stumbled. Brenda and Sharon both rushed to him.

"If I'd known how hard it was to get up I would've stayed in bed."

Sharon retreated back to the kitchen and righted the chair. She picked up the cat's squeak toys and tossed them into the living room toward the cat bed.

She picked up the phone, "hello?"

"Uh, I need the Chief."

"She'll just be a second, Lieutenant." Sharon said, leaning back against the counter. Brenda, coming down the hallway with her mother, quirked an eyebrow inquisitively. Sharon mouthed Provenza.

Willie Ray patted her arm, "get the phone, sweetie."

Brenda took the phone from Sharon. "Willie Ray, can I make you something for breakfast?"

"Oh Sharon," Willie Ray smiled and waved her off. "You don't need to fuss over me. You just get ready for work, I'll be fine."

"I don't have to go into work until Brenda does something that Chief Pope doesn't like." Sharon grinned, "I have at least ten minutes wiggle room in which to cook breakfast."

Willie Ray patted her hand, "you relax for a while, dear, I think I'll go take a shower."

Brenda hung up the phone and huffed out a frustrated groan. "Oh, Catholics are so obnoxious!"

Sharon snorted, "thanks a lot."

"You don't count." Brenda rolled her eyes. "When was the last time you went to church?"

"Midnight mass, just like every Christmas."

"Oh yeah." Brenda chewed her lip. She was usually already cozy in bed by the time Sharon went out for her yearly pilgrimage to church. "How can you even stand Catholicism?"

"A side effect of being born Irish, I suspect." Sharon leaned closer, "don't even try to tell me that Baptists are any better."

Brenda shrugged noncommittally. "Anyway, I have to go."

"I'll see you in about an hour, probably."

"Don't jinx me." Brenda scowled.

"It's not a jinx, it's an inevitability at this point." Sharon sipped her coffee.

**

"Those poor girls looked up to that priest and he took advantage of them." Willie Ray said, shaking her head disdainfully.

"Well, mama, we don't really know what was goin' on. We haven't found any fingerprints on the photographs and hardly any at all in the apartment, which is strange."

"Where's Sharon?" Clay looked up from his newspaper.

"She's at work, it's noon on a Tuesday." Willie Ray smiled, "it's easy to feel like it's late at night, seeing as Brenda Leigh is home."

"Is tonight the night that James and Angela are comin' over?"

"It sure is, Daddy." Brenda beamed, "they're looking forward to seeing you."

"We did miss them for Christmas. Wasn't the same without Sharon and the kids."

Brenda smiled, "Christmas was a little short on spiked egg nog and a lot short on Sharon and James shouting at the basketball game." Brenda looked back to the screen, chewed on her lip and read to herself, "we haven't found any of the priest's dna on the girls' clothing…"

"Brenda Leigh, isn't this something you should be talkin' about with the parents?"

"Fritz is helping the LAPD with the molestation issues. Sharon's gonna get that information from him."

"Now y'all are rearranging your whole lives because of me."

"No, no, Daddy, not at all. It's just the FBI has a lot more resources for that kind of thing than we do and Sharon's already at work. So, if there was anything else to be doing I'd be doing it."

**

"Hello, my dear." Sharon said sweetly from the doorway.

"Uh-oh. That sounds like bad news if I ever heard it." Brenda leaned back in her chair. "Let me have it."

Sharon entered and sat down across from Brenda

"Not if you keep pushing to get this journal although I suppose suggesting that the photographs we found were not pornographic could help re-open dialogue with the arch-diesis."

"We should have to re-open dialogue. The church should never have taken the journal to begin with."

"Chief Johnson, in a case like this there are national, possible international, implications. In fact, in order to regain the cooperation of the church the LAPD has to give it absolute assurance the official chain of command will be respected."

"I've always respected – wait a minute. Is this about what happened with Chief Pope at the rectory? I was only doing my job!"

"By performing a warrantless search." Sharon reminded calmly. "By threatening a church archivist with your weapon."

"I didn't threaten anybody. I had my gun holstered the entire time."

"It doesn't matter. Refusing the orders of a superior is insubordination and you did it publically. Which…" Sharon pulled out the form, already knowing this couldn't end well. "Is detailed in this unsigned complaint that Chief Pope brought to me first thing this morning."

Brenda accepted the paper, putting on her glasses and reading it over. "Is he really this mad?"

"Oh. Yes. And he's frustrated. At one time, he may have been your friend and something more than that but he is also your boss and he is demanding that you recognize his authority."

"I want that journal."

"Did you not hear one word that I just said? I kept Chief Pope from signing that complaint by assuring him that you were capable of seeing his position. The catholic church has enormous influence-"

"How am I supposed to investigate this homicide if the whole power structure here is linin' up to protect the poor, defenseless catholic church?" Brenda snapped. She calmed down a little, "and why does Chief Pope still have this enormous chip on his shoulder. I mean, I'm willing to put behind how completely horrible he's been. I don't even need an apology. I mean, can't we just… you know?"

"You may be able to let it go – though let's be honest, we both know it's forgiven but not forgotten - but Chief Pope is not ready to let it go. And if you can't keep relations friendly you need to keep them smart."

Brenda considered this for a moment. If there was one person she knew who could hold a grudge forever and smile politely while doing it it was Sharon. "What would be smart of me in this situation?"

"Let Chief Pope resume his negotiations with the church so that he solves the problem."

"He caused the problem!" Brenda objected, mouth full of starburst.

Sharon picked up the complaint and held it up pointedly. Brenda sighed heavily. "Fine. If I let Chief Pope get the journal his way will he back off on that complaint? Because if he signs it anyway, I will explode. I really will."

"I think, before dropping the complaint entirely, he's gonna wait to see how you proceed with your investigation."

Brenda shook her head with a small smile. "Thank you… for runnin' all this interference. I think the only person Pope is making more miserable than me is you."

"I will not argue with you." Sharon smiled. "This whole mess is a royal pain in my ass. He's reduced my job to the kid who sits between you two in home room."

"What's the process for nominatin' someone for sainthood?"

"I think my drinking, cursing, and sexual persuasion and the fact that I go to church once a year pretty much lets me out of that possibility."

"I love you so much."

"I love you, too."

"I hate catholics."

Sharon snorted, "I know you do, dear."

**

Sharon handed James the bowl of green beans and he moved to pass it straight to his sister. "James, you should eat some greens."

"Mom, I'm an adult."

"Alright." Sharon held up her hands in defeat. "Do whatever you want."

Brenda put a hand on Sharon's shoulder.

"James, are those free-weights in the back bedroom yours?" Clay asked.

"No, sir, those are mom's." James laughed, "my mama didn't raise no athletes."

"That's true, that's why they had to go into law." Sharon teased.

"No kidding, how much do you bench, Sharon?" Clay turned to the brunette.

"I don't do it religiously but I can do about 90 when I'm in shape." Sharon shrugged.

"Now, Brenda Leigh, how much can you bench?"

"I don't know, daddy, I don't lift weights." Brenda shook her head.

"Brenda maintains her figure by the grace of God." Sharon nudged Brenda playfully. "All she does all day is eat candy and she has the nerve to look this good."

"Aw, you don't look too bad yourself." Brenda smiled modestly, sipping her wine.

"Speaking of, Brenda Leigh," Willie Ray piped up, "I was wonderin' if you'd want my wedding dress this time around?"

"Oh, I love vintage wedding dresses!" Angela professed. "I was looking through Bridal magazine and they did a feature on a wedding that was done completely vintage and all the wedding photos were in sepia. Brenda could wear your dress and mom could wear a suit-"

"Angela, I will be wearing a dress at my wedding." Sharon objected.

"I was thinking a skirt suit, mom. Maybe your gray Armani one?"

"No, half the fun of getting married is buying the dress."

"A whole half?" Brenda's eyebrows went up.

"Okay, maybe a third is dress shopping."

"And only two-thirds marrying me?"

"A third dress shopping, a third marrying you and a third a free-flowing open bar." Sharon said matter-of-factly, lifting her glass in salute.

"Here, here!" James seconded, clinking his glass with his mother's. Angela and Clay both followed suit.

Willie Ray playfully swatted Clay's shoulder. "Oh, what am I going to do with all y'all?" She smiled.

"Well, you might be the designated driver, for one." Brenda smiled.

"Oh, Clay, you still haven't told us how your appointment went this afternoon. You seem like you're full of vim and vigor," Angela said.

"I have low thyroglobulin, low means that the cancer's practically undetectable."

"Oh, daddy, you're gettin' to be such an expert!" Brenda smiled broadly.

"Look here, look at this." Clay stood up, picking up his plate and Willie Ray's. He grinned proudly, "I've got my balance back."

"Now if you could just teach your daughter and my kids how to carry their stuff back to the kitchen." Sharon smiled.

"Don't ask for more than God can give, Sharon." Willie Ray laughed. "Clay, I'll get the heavy plates, you get the silverware."

Brenda's phone rang and she went to answer it. Sharon picked up her plate and Brenda's and followed Brenda's parents into the kitchen.

"Willie Ray, you did all the cooking, you go relax." Sharon grabbed the sponge and tossed it to James and handed the dishtowel over to Angela. "James, you wash, Angie, you dry and I'll put away."

The first dish passed to Sharon was the strainer and she had to go up on her toes to reach the spot above the cupboards. Clay took it from her and pushed it where it belonged. Sharon smiled, "look at you. You want a go at the weights later?"

"Don't tempt me." He winked.

Willie Ray entered the kitchen. "Where's Brenda?"

"Oh, she got a call, she rushed outta here."

"Why don't you go relax in the living room and I'll bring you a cup of tea?"

"Thank you, Sharon, I think I'm going to call it a night."

**

"Good mornin' darlin'."

"Daddy, are you making breakfast?"

"Pancakes. I'm lettin' your mother sleep in. She's done enough for me these past six months."

"That's just about the best thing a person could come home to!"

"Pancakes are a wonderful thing." Clay smiled.

"Now I just have to stay awake long enough to eat 'em."

"Good morning, everyone." Sharon announced, clad in the LA Dodgers jersey and cotton shorts that she slept in when the need to sleep in modest attire arose.

"And there's the other best thing to come home to." Brenda kissed Sharon, "would you look at this?"

"I think it calls for a cup of coffee." Sharon announced, moving to the pot.

"Already made, help yourself." Clay continued whisking the bubbles out of the pancake batter. "Brenda Leigh, take your mother a cup, would ya? She said somethin' last night about wantin' to talk to you this mornin'."

"Alright."

Sharon handed her the cup she'd just poured for herself, "have this one, sweetie. Welcome home."

"Sharon, when are you going to admit that the Dodgers are overrated?" Clay teased her as she poured herself a second cup of coffee.

She grinned into the coffee, "the day you renounce the Braves. So never." She walked over to the table. "What can I do to help?"

"You can sit down and drink your coffee." Clay insisted, "you didn't get in last night until almost one. You and Brenda Leigh must be asleep on your feet."

"I'll take the break, thank you." Sharon leaned back leisurely in her chair. "So what would you like to do today?"

"I don't know, I was thinking-"

"Sharon!" Brenda screeched hysterically. "Sharon!"