Her eyes snapped open, the sound of her heartbeat the only thing she could hear. Brenda couldn't remember her dream, but the faint coppery tang at the back of her throat, and the roiling in her stomach gave her a pretty good clue. She slid out from beneath Sharon's arm, slowly, so as not to wake the dark haired woman, and padded softly down the stairs, and into the kitchen, turning on the light above the range, instead of the blinding overheads. Filling a glass with water, she sat down at the table, staring at the distorted pattern of the tablecloth through the liquid. She sipped from the glass, hoping to calm her stomach, and her nerves, but the water was cold all the way down, and the knot in her gut only intensified. She sighed. Maybe Andy had been right. Maybe she should've let him take the shot, but it had all happened so quickly, and David…she closed her eyes against the thought. It didn't matter now, anyway. She'd shot Kevin Masen in the head, and nothing was going to change that. The question was, what would the shooting change? Would she be appointed Chief? If that happened, maybe she could mitigate the damage she'd done by flinging herself at Sharon. Groaning, she realized that regardless, she was going to have to undergo an FID investigation.
"Shoot." She muttered, spinning the glass slowly in her hands.
"Something wrong?" Sharon's soft voice floated in from the doorway, where she stood, arms crossed.
Brenda turned, surprised at the older woman's sudden presence. She took in the long legs, thighs disappearing under that ridiculous tee shirt, the subtle swell of her breasts above her crossed arms, the messy tangle of her sleep-disheveled hair. God she was beautiful.
"Not so much, now, anyway." She replied, smiling. "I just needed some water, and I didn't want to wake you." She gestured with the glass, before setting it down.
"Mmm." Sharon hummed, moving to stand next to Brenda. "Maybe you should take the day off, I can interview the rest of the officers involved, and catch you tomorrow. In the meantime, come back to bed. If you're going to insist on coming in…and I can see that you are, you can still catch another hour and a half of sleep." She took Brenda's hands, and pulled her to her feet.
Brenda let herself be led, once more, to her bedroom. She watched as Sharon sat delicately on the side, and then swung her legs in, a far cry from Brenda's usual ungainly belly flop onto the mattress. She must have smirked a little, because the Captain gave her an odd look, tilting her head to the side as though Brenda were a puzzle she could solve.
"I was just thinking about you, and bed." Brenda blurted, then blushed.
Sharon raised an eyebrow, and quirked her lips. "Is that so?"
"Not like that. I just mean, you get into bed so graciously, and I…you're right. I'm reckless. I don't think about how I do things, or the consequences of my actions, and nobody ever calls me on it. That's all." She tested out her theory, sitting down on the edge of the bed, and lifting her legs in. "That's not what I usually do, you know?" She continued, snugging the covers up to her chest. "Usually, I just flop down, exhausted. And I'm usually..or rather, I was usually the last one to bed, so I'm sure I must've jarred Fritzi awake more than once, but he never said anything."
Sharon pursed her lips at the automatic endearment, and the reminder that this bed had been a marital one not too long ago. "I will always call you on your actions, Brenda, but in this case? Though I still have to do a complete investigation, I know that you made the right call. FID will clear your whole team, unless there's something huge that I've missed. Now you need to pull yourself together, so that Behavioral Sciences will clear you as well. This was a good shot, Chief. But if you bellyflop into my bed, and wake me up? That will be a whole other story."
Brenda scooted closer to Sharon's side, pressing their bodies together. "Thank you," she murmured, nuzzling Sharon's neck with her lips. "You always know just what to say to me." Their lips met in a slow kiss, and a burn ignited in Brenda's stomach. As they parted, she glanced at the clock. "And hour and a half, you said?" She grinned, running her hand up Sharon's bare thigh, swiping her thumb over the sharp protrusion of her hipbone.
"Of sleep." Sharon replied, biting back a moan as Brenda's hand brushed the underside of her breast.
"Well, where I'm from, this would count. You see, I plan on sleeping with you." Brenda rolled Sharon's nipple deftly between her thumb and finger, hiding the smile that threatened to escape when she felt the dark haired woman's hips thrust forward, the heat already building.
"I've got to pick up a copy of Southern Speak for Dummies." Sharon retorted, as she began tracing a lazy trail across Brenda's collarbone. "It's clear we had a failure to communicate, down in the kitchen." She put a hefty twang to her voice.
Brenda giggled, actually giggled, as she dragged a heated kiss across Sharon's jaw. "Tell me if you understand this, Cap'n," She said, as she pushed the Dixie Chicks out of the way, and wrapped her lips firmly around Sharon's nipple.
"Oh…yes."
The third time Brenda hit the alarm, Sharon took the opportunity to slide out from beneath her.
"If you plan on working today, we have to get ready." She said, in her best no-nonsense tone.
"I thought I was working, Cap'n." Brenda pouted, not thrilled with the abrupt end to her throurough investigation of Sharon Raydor's body.
"Well. Yes. But it's really time to be up and at 'em." Sharon backed away as Brenda's eyes darkened.
"I really, really like it when you do that military slang." She slid out of bed and stalked towards the brunette.
"They're going to make the announcement for Chief today. I won't be able to be with you, when you find out, but I hope you'll let me know as soon as you can?" Sharon tried distraction, and sighed with relief when it seemed to work. She bent to turn on the shower as Brenda replied.
"You'll be the first person I call." Brenda pressed her body against Sharon's back, hugging her tightly.
"Platonic shower?" She suggested.
"I don't even think those two words belong together, but okay. There's a name for that," Sharon mused, stepping into the steaming spray, then moving back to make room for Brenda. "Those things, that people say, that don't make sense, like jumbo shrimp, or platonic shower."
"Oxymoron." Brenda supplied, as she handed Sharon the bar of Ivory soap. "That's the word you're looking for. And, I'm completely okay with sliding my slick, soapy hands all over your beautiful body, but you keep pointing out how short on time we are." She bent her head back beneath the spray, and as the water poured over her head, she thought more about the night before. "You washed my hair last night." It was a statement, not a question.
"I did." Sharon was busily soaping her legs.
"You gave me wine. Red wine." Brenda continued, as the moments flashed through her mind.
"It's your favorite." Came the matter of fact reply.
"I have never, ever, had anyone but my mother wash my hair." She poured a generous amount of body wash onto a pouf, and began lathering herself.
"Their loss. You have lovely hair. Besides, you washed mine, first, as I recall." Sharon grinned as Brenda scowled at the extra emphasis placed on the word first.
"But that was different." Brenda grumped, though the memory of that shower sent a fresh flash of heat through her body.
"Why? Because there was a sexual component to it? What makes it so terrible that I took care of you, and expected nothing in return?" Sharon blinked through the steamy air at the blond, who looked stricken.
"Because nobody's ever done that, except my mother." She finally replied, stepping forward to rinse the soap from her body.
Sharon caught Brenda in her arms, and captured her lips in a blazing, possessive kiss. "I am not, I assure you, your mother. But I—have feelings. And I take care of those I care about. Don't forget that." She fairly growled, as their lips parted. "Now, let's get a move on soldier. We're running behind!" She swatted Brenda on the rear as she stepped out of the shower, reaching for a towel. She couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up at Brenda's indignant squeal.
"Don't think I'll forget that, Cap'n." Brenda said, as she turned off the shower and reached for her own towel. "I'm like an elephant. Never forget anything." She sassed, sashaying into the bedroom.
"Indeed, Chief. I'm rather counting on it." Sharon purred.