Brenda stepped back, taking a deep breath. She looked at Sharon, taking in her skewed skirt, shirt half untucked, her hair wild from Brenda's clutching fingers.
"Do I look as...flustered as you do?" She asked, grinning.
"Yes. And it's very, very enticing." Sharon replied, tucking her shirt into her skirt, and running her fingers through her hair, smoothing out the tangles.
Brenda straightened her clothes, then reached for her over-sized tote, rummaging through it for a compact. Sharon reached into her small clutch, and handed Brenda a mirror.
"Here. If you plan on getting yourself together before they fix the elevator, perhaps you should use this." Sharon smiled at the Chief's glare.
Brenda took the mirror, and hastily handled her hair. She realized her lipstick was entirely kissed away, and groaned, handing the mirror back to Sharon. She ducked her head, peering into her bag, fishing for the small tube, and holding it up triumphantly when she located it. She applied the color, and saw Sharon smiling out of the corner of her eye.
"What?" she asked, expecting more ribbing about the size of her bag.
"When you put that on, it's hard to not want to kiss you. Harder than normal, that is." Sharon replied, leaning against the wall.
Brenda chuckled, and dropped her bag back on the floor. She looked up at the still dark number panel, and heaved a sigh, before inelegantly plopping herself down next to her bag. Sharon looked at her, an eyebrow arched in question.
"Well, it's not like they've fixed the elevator, and I don't know how much longer we're going to be in here...and I'm not as young as I used to be, and that was more exercise than my upper thighs have seen in a while." Brenda huffed, gingerly arranging her skirt.
Sharon laughed then, a full belly laugh. She slid her back down the wall, and seated herself delicately next to Brenda, taking her hand and lacing their fingers together. Truth be told, Sharon was feeling the pleasant ache in her thighs as well, but she treasured it as proof that the preceding activities hadn't been a product of her over-active imagination.
Brenda glanced down at their joined hands, then back up at Sharon.
"What happens now?" she asked, meeting the Captain's eyes.
"Well. I suppose that depends, doesn't it?" Sharon replied, looking troubled.
"On?"
"You. You have more to lose, pursuing this," she paused, waving her free hand "whatever this is, that we're doing." Sharon kept her voice even.
"What are we doing, Sharon?" Brenda's tone was cooler now, more reserved.
"That's a good question, Chief, and one I don't have an answer for. I am extremely attracted to you, and as I've spent more time with you, I've decided that there's more to you than you let on at first glance. I'm fascinated with discovering more hidden facets. On the other hand, I'm also deeply committed to my job, and I won't do anything that will ultimately jeopardize it. I'm too old to start over somewhere else, Brenda, so if you do make Chief of Police and things between us don't work out, I need to know that you won't blur the line between your personal and professional feelings, because I am very good at my job."
"I wouldn't fire you if you broke up with me!" Brenda exclaimed, affronted at the thought. "Besides. We both know the Chief is chosen based on politics, and I'm not that person. It'll never happen. I don't even know if I want to be Chief."
"Never the less, I needed to be sure." Sharon looked up at the ceiling. "I've never done anything like this. I'm...unaccustomed to behaving outside of protocol, though I know this is old hat for you."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Brenda narrowed her eyes.
"Just that...rules have never been your strong suit. Rather, following rules has never been your strong suit. But I'm a fairly by-the-book person. I don't know quite what to do, because although you're not technically my superior, you are a superior officer, and daliances between superiors and subordinates are generally frowned upon, even if they're not explicitly forbidden. It's an ethical grey area, I think, and I'm unfamiliar with this territory." Sharon explained, still staring at the ceiling.
"I see. For what it's worth, I'm unfamiliar with some of this as well. But I think it's worth investigating further, don't you?" Brenda responded, plucking at the hem of her skirt with her free hand. Her nerves were jangling as she spoke. Brenda hoped that Sharon wanted more than a quick shag in the elevator, but the woman was so buttoned up, it was hard to tell.
"Are you free for dinner?" Sharon asked, looking at Brenda.
"What? Tonight?"
"Yes. I know we'll both be working late, but as we established this morning in the break room, your brain requires fuel to function at peak performance," Sharon chuckled "so I was thinking dinner, tonight. I know a nice little Italian place not too far from the station. Rarely crowded, great food, great service."
"Well then. I suppose I do have to eat. I would love to have dinner with you tonight." Brenda replied, unable to keep the grin off of her face. "Assuming they fix this elevator before we starve to death."
"I suspect they're working on it now, Chief. I can't say I'm not thrilled with the delay, all things considered."
"You make an excellent argument. When we get out of here, who's driving?" Brenda replied, a cheeky grin on her lips.
"I thought I'd drive, for a change. Now that I don't have to take notes on you, I'm looking forward to not fearing for my life every time we get into a vehicle." Sharon deadpanned.
"Well, if you weren't so insistent about wearing those skirts, I'd do better on the road!" Brenda laughed, running her hand over Sharon's thigh."It's bad enough when you're standing, but when you sit, and it rides up like this," she moved the hem in demonstration "it's a wonder anyone in the car with you could stay on the road."
"Can I ask you a question, Brenda? A serious one?"
"You can."
"Are you bi-sexual?" Sharon kept her gaze steady on Brenda's face as she asked.
"I don't think so. I mean, I didn't think so. But here I am. So, yes? Maybe?" Brenda stumbled over her reply.
"So you've never been attracted to another woman before?"
"No. I didn't go through the college experimenting phase, either. This is all uncharted for me."
"But, you were checking out my legs, in the car?" Sharon's voice betrayed her confusion.
"Well no! I mean yes, but when you put it like that, it sounds dirty. You have very nice legs, though. And I happened to notice that. And then I noticed it some more. And I know that it's probably completely abnormal to make it to my age, and have a, a crises of sexual identity, or what have you, but I've never felt attraction to anyone, the way I am attracted to you. It's like I'm driven to touch you, even though intellectually, I know better. I have never, ever, felt like this towards a man. I don't know what that means, but there you go." Brenda absently ran her fingers along the hemline of Sharon's skirt as she spoke.
"I see. So that evening after the Moore case..." Sharon trailed off, unsure of how to continue.
"Yes, well. I'm not very good at impulse control, after all." Brenda laughed, though she felt a low throb at the memory.
"And then you were going to run away. At the elevator." It wasn't a question.
"Well, if I have time to think about things, generally my judgment is sound. I shouldn't have done the things I did—any of them, to be frank. I don't regret it, because here we are."
"I invited you on to the elevator, hoping your impulse control would fail again." Sharon whispered.
"I wondered about that. That's when I knew that I wasn't alone in this. That you felt something too. But I didn't—I couldn't. I wanted to come see you, but I just- I was too scared. And you never came to me, so I thought that I'd been mistaken."
"I don't make it habit, you see, of flirting with married, straight, superior officers." Sharon laughed.
"Well. There is that." Brenda replied.
The lights flickered back on, and the elevator lurched, before catching, and continuing a smooth descent. Brenda pushed herself to her feet, and reached a hand out to Sharon, who pulled herself up. Sharon glanced at the number panel—they had about 20 seconds, she figured, before the doors opened. She turned and pressed her lips against Brenda's, feeling the blonde woman respond in kind. She stepped back, and smoothed the lipstick smudging Brenda's bottom lip with her thumb, letting her hand drop to her side as the elevator stopped, and the doors slid open.