Brenda fumed all the way from the crime scene back to her house. It wasn't so much that Andy hadn't called her, though that hurt. It was waking up with the expectation of a warm body, and finding long chilled sheets. No note. The realization of exactly how much that empty bed scared her. She wasn't a fool, Brenda knew that her feelings were likely the stronger of the two. Consistently, she'd been making the moves, advancing and backing away based on Sharon's signals. So she knew that her anger was fueled partly by fear. Didn't make her feel any more agreeable, regardless of her stellar self-awareness.
She pulled in to her driveway, and reached for her bag, before stepping out of the car. She glared at the cheery glow from the neighbor's window, making her own house seem darker in comparison. She slowed her footsteps a smidge…was that a figure on her porch? She tucked her hand into her tote, relieved to find her service pistol right where it belonged. Her thumb ghosted over the safety, and she squinted into the inky dark, wishing she'd remembered to at least turn on the damn porch light. Fritz was better at remembering that sort of thing. She tightened her fingers around the pistol grip, and put her foot on the first step.
"Brenda Leigh, put the safety back on." Fritz's voice startled her enough that she stopped moving entirely.
"Fritz?" She hated the hopeful note that crept into her tone.
"Hi. I uh, I've been here a while. You weren't here, and I didn't want to just, I mean, I don't live here anymore, so…" he trailed off awkwardly, pushing a hand through his hair.
Brenda thumbed the safety back on, and released her death grip on the gun. She took the remaining four steps in two, and paused on the landing.
"Want to explain why you're on my porch in the middle of the night, Fritz?" Her voice remained even.
"Well, as it turns out, the job in DC wasn't exactly what I was expecting. I, ah…they offered me my old position back. As liaison. I tried to call you a few times over the last week, to give you a heads up, but, you haven't returned my calls. I am scheduled to meet with Delk, and Pope and a few of the other higher ups in the department tomorrow, and I wanted to tell you first, in person. So you wouldn't be caught off guard." He gave a rueful shrug.
"So I wouldn't…caught off guard? You moved across the country! You had a new girlfriend! And you're on my porch at…" she glanced at her watch, pressing the button to illuminate the face before continuing "2 in the morning. Even though I clearly wasn't home. What on earth are you thinking?"
"I just wanted to see you. I'm sorry, by the way, about the Chief thing. I was rooting for you."
"Fritz. Thank you, for letting me know. And for wanting to tell me yourself. And for stopping by, and offering your condolences on my failed run for Chief. Now I have to go inside and get changed, so that I can go see Lieutenant Flynn before thatwoman ruins my whole case. Good night." She turned to the door, and raised the key to the lock.
"That woman, Brenda Leigh? If I didn't know better, I'd say you were back to hating her. I thought…"
"Good night, Fritz." Brenda bumped the door with her hip as she turned the key, and stepped in to her house. She turned the porch light on, and looked back at the man on the other side of the screen. He looked tired, she thought. "Fritz? I'm only stopping in for a minute to change clothes. You look awful. If you want to sleep in the guest room, that's fine for tonight. Just for tonight, you understand?" She pushed the screen open, and stepped back as he moved to enter.
"Thanks. I hadn't gotten around to getting a hotel room, my plane got in late, and I wanted to come here first."
"Yes, so you said. Stay down here while I change, all right?"
"Sure thing." He walked to the couch, flopping down in a move as familiar as breathing. Brenda felt her heart hitch just a little bit, but she shook it off, and went up the stairs. She forewent the shower, applying Clinique liberally, in the hopes of covering any lingering evidence. She tucked herself into a floral skirt, and pastel blouse, and added a blazer in a sudden fit of defiance. Sharon might be able to walk away from her without so much as a how do you do, but Brenda would be damned if she'd change any more. She shoved her feet into a pair of beige kitten heels, and grabbed her lipstick, applying it with a little more force than normal. Honestly. That man, showing up on her doorstep. At this hour. Thank God this was LA, and not Atlanta. The neighbors! She scowled at her reflection, and the bags under her eyes, then turned and clicked off the light, and closed the door to the master bedroom. She stormed down the steps, and took a deep breath, ready to give Fritz a piece of her mind, but in the dim glow of the lamp, she could see that he'd fallen asleep, his face slack and peaceful, his 6 foot frame hanging haphazardly over the arms of the couch. She sighed, a deep, soul wracking sigh.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." She grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch, and tucked it around him, pulling his shoes off, and setting them aside. He stirred, but didn't wake, and she smoothed her hand over his tousled hair, as he smiled in his sleep. She crept to the door, and shouldered her tote, exiting silently. In the car, she let her forehead rest on the steering wheel for a moment. Things had been so CLEAR yesterday. Now all she felt was a vague sense of unease, like the moorings she'd depended on had snapped, leaving her adrift. Still, one of her team was injured, and she needed to handle her business. So she keyed the ignition, and pulled out into the street, trying to ignore the subtle notes of orange beneath the spice of her own perfume.