The murder room was ablaze with activity, and when Brenda walked in, she found herself surrounded by her team once more.
"Chief, you're gonna give me a heart attack before my time!" Provenza said, clapping an arm around her shoulder, and squeezing it affectionately.
"What do you mean, before your time, Provenza? You're past due, the way you eat." Flynn scoffed, smirking at Brenda and nodding.
"Gentlemen, I'm glad to see you too. And I'm sure, if one of y'all had been the first on the scene, it would be you collecting these undeserved accolades. I was just doin' my job. And now, my job requires me to complete a report before I can go home, which I would dearly like to do. If you'll excuse me?" Brenda gave them all a tired smile, making her way towards her office.
Once inside, she flopped down in her seat, and rested her head in her hands. Everything was happening so fast. She thought of Sharon, down in IA, probably the only person still on duty in that department, this late in the evening. She grabbed her headset, and punched in her extension, letting it ring once, before hanging up. She'd just left the woman 5 minutes ago. What could she possibly have to say? She shook her head, mentally kicking herself for acting like a love sick teenager. Reaching for an incident report blank and a pen, she jumped when her line rang. Glancing at the internal caller ID, she winced as she saw the FID extension appear.
"Deputy Chief Johnson" she said smoothly, feeling a blush steal over her cheeks at having been discovered.
"It's okay. The only reason I saw your extension flash on the CID was because I had my hand on the receiver, trying to talk myself out of calling you." Sharon said, bemused.
"I don't even really have anything to say, I just can't focus on this report, and I wanted to hear your voice." Brenda sighed, cradling the receiver between her ear and her shoulder, and penning the date on the form.
"I actually do have something I want to talk to you about, but it can wait until tomorrow. My excuse was going to be that I wanted to let you know that." Sharon chuckled softly.
"Well, tell me now. What is it?" Brenda asked, as she filled in her name, rank, and badge number, by rote on the form.
"It really can wait. I think you've had quite enough work related drama for one day, wouldn't you say, Chief?" Sharon sat back in her chair, and twirled the phone cord around her finger, winding it tightly enough to turn her fingertip white, and then letting it unspool quickly.
"I guess so." Brenda was silent then, as she scribbled the essential details of the encounter with Meyers on to the paper. "I'm not committed to this report. It's going to be dreadfully generic. I apologize in advance to whoever in IA gets it."
"I'm sure they'll forgive you, all things considered, Brenda. We're not all heartless automatons. That's just me." Sharon replied wryly.
"Hush. You're not an automaton. Automatons don't have temper-fits." Brenda retorted, biting back a chuckle.
"I do not have temper fits, Chief Johnson." Sharon exclaimed hotly, then laughed. "Okay. Maybe I have a temper. But I don't have temper-fits." She conceded, rolling her eyes.
"Mmmm-hmmm." Brenda finished jotting down the names of all of the people she could remember, who'd been on the scene. She signed and dated the report, and then turned her attention back to the conversation at hand.
"Captain. I'm going to bring this down to IA, okay?" She asked, throwing her pen back in her desk drawer, and slamming it shut, ignoring the fact that she still had only Twizzlers in her stash.
"Of course, Chief. I'll be here to take it in person." Sharon hung up the phone, and stood, straightening her jacket, and fluffing her hair out from her scalp, so that it rained over her shoulders and down her back in thick waves. Then she removed her jacket entirely, and rolled her sleeves up three quarters of the way. She sat back down, and grabbed a pen, leaning over the paperwork she'd ignored while she'd been entranced with Brenda's voice over the phone. Inwardly, she mocked herself for all of the preening. Despite the passion she'd felt from Brenda in the stairwell, the reality was, she was nominating her for Chief. The reality was, Brenda was married. The reality was, Brenda was her superior officer. The reality was, there was no way they could continue down this path of madness without it ending terribly for one or both of them. She should be strong enough to stop, to end it, but she couldn't help the coil of anticipation that sprang up in her stomach when the door to FID opened, and Brenda sailed through, smiling widely.
"I knew you'd be down here by yourself." Brenda remarked cheekily, as she dropped the folder containing her report on Sharon's desk.
"Yes, well, I had my own paperwork to finish, as you know, and we were rather late in getting back from the scene, so, here I am." Sharon replied, sitting back in her chair and rolling her shoulders, ignoring the encroaching headache.
Brenda started to say something, but lost her train of thought as she watched Sharon's movements. Everything in her wanted to reach out and touch the dark haired woman. The moment in the stairwell hadn't been long enough, and Brenda hated herself for stopping it, for hurting Sharon even slightly. She stood for a moment, next to the chair she'd meant to plop down in, and then walked around behind the Captain, and placed her hands gently on her shoulders, holding them still for a moment, before beginning a tender massaging motion. She felt her heart thud into double-time, as the heat from the other woman's body seared her palms through the fabric of her shirt. She was aware of the thin straps of Sharon's bra beneath her hands, and Brenda swallowed a sigh as the mental image of a shirtless Captain popped unbidden into her mind.
Sharon knew she should protest. She knew that this was her chance to make things right, to end this outrageous flirtation once and for all, before things were irrevocably damaged. She opened her mouth, determined to be the strong one, determined to say the words that were fully formed in her brain, about duty, responsibilities, and the right thing, but all that came out was a low moan of pleasure as Brenda's skilled fingers worked out a particularly impressive knot in her left shoulder.
Brenda felt a flood of heat through her belly at the sound of Sharon moaning at her touch. Even though it wasn't a sexual noise, it triggered something inside Brenda, a primal sort of instinct to evoke other, louder noises, by touching the woman in other, more intimate ways. She blinked, trying to remember that her motivation for doing this was to relieve some of the stress the Captain was carrying. After all, at least part of it was her own fault, for facing down a crazy INS agent, and then throwing herself at Sharon in the stairwell. It wasn't much wonder the woman had knots the size of large marbles. She continued massaging, smoothing her fingers firmly over each knot, working the tension out, and feeling the stone of a woman melt beneath her hands. She felt like she could keep this up forever, which surprised her, because since the beginning, she'd never had much patience for rubbing Fritz's shoulders, resenting the minutes she could've spent doing other things. The thought of Fritz brought her up short, and her hands stilled briefly, as she thought about him, waiting for her at home. She knew what she needed to do. She knew, and she knew it was the right thing, for all of them. She knew that it was the only way to make things right. But she dreaded taking her hands away from the soft warmth of the Captain. So she let her fingers drift, grazing the collarbones she'd found so enticing earlier.
Sharon felt her hesitation, and tried to clear her head so that she could speak, and then she felt those delicate fingers sweep softly beneath her throat, sending flares of desire straight to her core. She closed her eyes, hating herself for her weakness. She wanted Brenda. If she was being honest with herself -and under the blond woman's skillful touch, it seemed she could only be honest with herself- she wanted more than a stolen moment in a stairwell. More than just the brief touches in elevators and cars. She wanted her in her bed, sprawled wanton across her sheets, blond hair spilled over her pillows, gasping at her touch. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted her in her bed as the sun rose, their limbs tangled in sleep. If she was being honest with herself, she wanted her at the breakfast table in the morning, sipping coffee, and most likely leaving the cup on the table as she rushed off to work. If she was being honest, she wanted her in the evenings, curled up on the end of the couch, full lips in a pout as she complained about Will Pope, or Commander Taylor. Sharon knew, as she was being honest now, that she was in love with Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson. She knew it as clearly as she knew her own name. And so she kept her mouth closed. Kept all the words inside, and just leaned into the gentle caresses.
Brenda ran her fingers lightly up Sharon's throat, rubbing her thumbs along her jaw, feeling the tension there, as though she were trying not to speak. She let her fingers trace the furrow in the Captain's brow, trying to smooth it away, hoping her touch wasn't the cause of it. She moved her hands back to Sharon's shoulders, then gripped the back of her chair, spinning her around so that they were facing each other. Sharon had her eyes closed, but as the chair turned, they flew open, and Brenda noticed how they had little flecks of gold in them, that they weren't entirely green, as she'd thought originally.
"You have beautiful eyes, Sharon." She said, putting her hands on the arm of the chair and leaning down.
"Thank you." Sharon blushed, and dropped her gaze.
"Listen. I um, I said some things, before. I wanted to ask-" Brenda began, but faltered, hating not knowing the answers to the question she desperately wanted to ask.
"Don't. Just, don't, Chief. It's okay. I understand. And I think you're right." Sharon felt her heart shatter, hearing the unspoken good-bye on Brenda's lips.
"Right? About what?" Brenda tipped her head to the side, puzzled.
"That we shouldn't do-"
"Hush. I didn't say that. I wouldn't say that. I have some things to take care of, and I need to do that first, but this? Us? I can't just walk away, unless that's what you want, Sharon. If you want me to go home, and pretend like none of this," she gestured at the space between them, "ever happened, then I will. It'll be hard. It'll be the hardest thing I've ever had to do, but I would do it, for you, if that's what you wanted. If it's not, then I have to ask you to trust me, and to give me a little bit of time, to make things right for everybody. I've messed things up pretty good, but I think I can fix them. I just need a little time, Captain." Brenda finished her thoughts in a rush, steeling herself for the rejection she was sure was coming.
"You can't...walk away? From us?" Sharon spoke each word slowly, as though she wasn't sure they'd been said in the proper order.
"No. I can't." Brenda straightened, taking a step back.
"Brenda..." Sharon's voice was a whisper as she stood, closing the distance between them.
Brenda felt Sharon's lips on hers, and her heart skidded into overtime. This wasn't the rejection she'd been expecting. She wrapped her arms around the Captain's neck, knotting her fingers in her hair, and deepened this kiss, as the sweet citrus smell blossomed around her.
All too soon, Sharon pulled back. She smiled, that beautiful, radiant smile, and then her face fell. Brenda arched an eyebrow, wondering what had cut that smile short.
"Cap'n?" She asked nervously.
"Well. Before we go any further. That thing that I needed to speak with you about tomorrow? I should probably tell you now. It would be better if I told you now." Sharon looked down, knowing that this was going to end explosively.
"All right. What's on your mind?" Brenda couldn't keep the suspicious note out of her voice.
Sharon reached down, and opened her desk drawer, pulling out a manila folder.
"You'll be pleased to know, I finished my investigation." She began.
"Oh, you finished the background check on Chief Pope?" Brenda asked, relieved that this wasn't about her, or them, after all.
"I never said I was doing a background check, on Chief Pope." Sharon reminded her, smiling stiffly. "As the LAPD's Women's Coordinator, I am on the search committee for our new boss. The mayor and the police commission want a strong, female candidate in the mix. You are the highest ranking woman now, in the department, so..." Sharon trailed off, holding out the folder as an explanation.
"What's this?" Brenda asked, the suspicious tone back, her eyes never leaving Sharon's.
"It's an application. For the Chief of the LAPD. All candidates need to get one in within the next two weeks." Sharon answered smoothly, sitting back down at her desk.
Brenda pulled her glasses on, and flipped through the pages. She glanced at Sharon, her eyes narrowed.
"I see it's already been filled out." Brenda leveled her gaze at Sharon.
"All it need is your signature." Sharon replied, fetching her purse from her drawer, and standing up, beginning to walk towards the door, hoping to avoid the blow up.
"From our conversations, I gather that you are still very close with Chief Pope. I do hope that this incredible opportunity doesn't cause any friction, between the two of you." Sharon continued, even as she walked away.
Brenda watched her departure, not speaking.
Sharon opened the door, and then turned back to Brenda, slinging her purse over her shoulder.
"Two weeks, Chief Johnson." She said softly, then stepped out, leaving Brenda speechless in her wake.
Brenda stared down at the folder in her hands, and wondered why the words were so hard to read. Then she realized her hands were trembling. She snapped the folder closed, and shoved it into her tote, fishing out her car keys before shouldering the over-sized bag.
"Chief of Police. OH! That WOMAN!" She whispered, as she walked to her car, shaking her head.