A/N: Well, only a few weeks late for the holiday. Once again, this one didn't end up going quite the way I thought it would. I don't know why I even try to steer the story anymore, these ladies do what they want! I'm just along for the ride...


Sharon had not allowed the Thanksgiving conversation to drop so easily after all. She'd waited until they were alone together and Brenda was full of chocolate again. If the blonde didn't know better, she'd say Sharon was using chocolate to make more positive associations for Brenda with these sorts of conversations so she wouldn't try to avoid them as much. But all it was doing was making Brenda suspicious every time Sharon presented her with the confection.

This time wasn't so bad, though. Sharon explained that she'd been thinking about it and didn't want to make a big "coming out" announcement to her kids. Not because she was afraid of them finding out she was dating a woman, but because she felt uncomfortable announcing she was dating at all. To anyone. Now that her marriage was officially over, she was still adjusting to the fact that people around her, including her adult children, would be aware of a part of her life she was accustomed to keeping private.

Sharon also didn't feel like it was her responsibility to announce to those around her who she was or wasn't attracted to. That just wasn't how she operated. She wasn't ashamed of it and she didn't want to hide it, she just didn't want to make a big deal of it either.

What she wanted, she explained, was for Brenda to come for Thanksgiving and for her to meet Ricky and Emily. She wanted them to just be themselves and behave as they normally would and not worry about the rest of it, let their interactions speak for themselves. If questions arose, she was perfectly happy to answer them—within reason—but what she didn't want was to make a fuss.

Sharon also knew if she planned a big announcement, she would end up nervous and tense the whole day, worried about saying the right thing. Her children would pick up on her discomfort and awkwardness and she didn't want that to spill over onto their impressions of Brenda. She felt if her children were simply given the space to observe the two of them together, how they fit together, and to process that information on their own, they would see that this was simply their mother's life now. No fanfare, just their mother being happy in relationship with an actual partner. That was something they had certainly never seen before.

Brenda had told Sharon she didn't want to stop what was going on between them. And she didn't. But beyond that, she had no idea what she was doing. All she knew was that she wanted to be with Sharon, so here they were.

And she was nervous about meeting Sharon's children. She'd heard Sharon talk with and about them on numerous occasions and both had been the cause of more than one interruption to her and Sharon's…activities, but this felt like a huge, terrifying step. They'd only just started dating, after all.

And yet, there was a thin thread of excitement as well. That Sharon wanted to include her in her holiday plans, that she wasn't an embarrassment or a burden, that Sharon apparently liked her enough to want to introduce her to Ricky and Emily at all. Still, Sharon's desire to just be themselves and not make a big official announcement had come as a relief. One less awkward conversation, she hoped. One less thing for her to mess up.

But all of that relief was out the window now. She was running late. Really late. Luckily she knew where she was going, but she'd even considered turning on her lights and sirens to get there faster. Halloween aside, holidays were very important to Sharon—especially when her kids were home—and Brenda didn't want to mess this up. Except she already had. At least she'd remembered to call earlier and let Sharon know things were not going according to schedule, something she'd rarely managed in the past.

As soon as the elevator doors opened, she set off down the hallway at a near sprint, narrowly catching herself before she rolled an ankle in her kitten heels. With clammy hands and on the verge of a panic attack, she knocked on the door and tried to slow her breathing.

Inside, Sharon jumped up, stopping her conversation mid-sentence to run to the door. Brenda flew in, dropping her bag and sliding out of her heels. Sharon used her own foot to nudge them out of the way, tucking them next to the others by the door where they wouldn't be a tripping hazard.

"Ooh, Sharon, I'm so late! I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!" the anxious southern drawl carrying over the other voices, their quiet conversation coming to a halt.

Sharon leaned in, her lips gently meeting the blonde's in a chaste kiss before her arms wrapped the flustered woman in a brief embrace. She stepped back, laying a hand gently on Brenda's arm, sliding it down to find her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, the contact immediately grounding both of them.

Ricky & Emily turned to watch from where they were sitting in the living room chatting with Gavin. Neither of them could see the woman who'd just come in yet, their view currently blocked by their mother's back. Nor could they make out any more of the conversation, which had dropped in volume after the woman's initial outburst.

"Brenda, it's ok, really," Sharon said quietly, meeting and holding the blonde's gaze. "You're here now and that's what matters," she added with a soft smile, before turning and leading Brenda further into the condo by the hand.

Suddenly feeling the very real weight of the additional sets of eyes on her, Brenda did what her momma had taught her and plastered a wide smile on her face. She released Sharon's hand and stepped forward, slowly approaching the group.

Gavin sprang out of his chair to greet her before she could get a word out, grasping her by the arms and planting a kiss on each cheek while she stood nervously in place. "Brenda! Thank God you're finally here, I'm starving!"

"Hi, Gavin," she said in greeting, her smile becoming more genuine now that he'd broken the ice, "Happy Thanksgiving." Ignoring his comment, she turned to address Ricky and Emily.

"Hi, I'm Brenda," she said, reaching out to shake their hands as they introduced themselves, "I'm so sorry to keep y'all waitin'." She turned back to the brunette, her eyes catching the full table setting in the process and a hand moving to her hip. "Sharon, I thought I told you to go ahead an' eat without me, that I'd be fine just heatin' up a plate when I got here."

"Oh, I know what you told me, Brenda," she replied in a low, even voice, as she stepped into the younger woman's space. "But we're not at work," she pointed out, the hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth. "This is my house and I don't have to do as you say," she said defiantly, but her eyes held a playful glint. "So, we waited," she concluded matter-of-factly with a shrug of her shoulder, stepping swiftly out of the woman's personal space and turning toward the kitchen.

Brenda's mouth opened, but it took her a moment to find her voice again as she started following after Sharon. "I can't believe you made everyone wait so long on my account," she replied. She really did feel bad about that part. "Poor Gavin, here, is practically wastin' away before my very eyes," she added with a grin, gesturing back toward the man in question.

Ricky and Emily exchanged glances before looking over at Gavin, who seemed unphased by the women's exchange.

"Did you close your case?" Sharon asked over her shoulder in a lighter tone.

"More or less," Brenda answered with a half-nod. "We finally got a confession, but," she chewed on her lip briefly, "I left Lieutenant Provenza in charge of wrappin' things up." Her too-bright tone betrayed her discomfort at delegating the responsibility. She hated giving up control when it came to her cases, but she hadn't dared stay any later knowing Sharon and her kids were waiting on her. And Gavin, too, she supposed, though he hadn't really crossed her mind until she'd arrived.

It certainly wasn't the first time she'd been late for a holiday meal because of work, but this felt different. Sharon was different. And the thought of disappointing her, of not showing up when Sharon was counting on her, had been too much for the blonde to bear. So she'd done the unthinkable and had walked away from work, leaving someone else in charge of her case.

Sharon's movement halted, her eyes widening momentarily in surprise, before she shifted back into hostess mode. "Would you like some wine? We were just talking about opening another bottle."

"You read my mind," Brenda said, relieved and looking very much like she was prepared to down a whole bottle all on her own.

"Okay, why don't you go ahead and open one for us while I finish getting the food ready?" Sharon suggested gently before turning toward her children, "Ricky, would you please come help bring the food to the table?"

"Sure, mom," he nodded and headed for the kitchen.

Brenda pulled a bottle of wine from the rack without even checking the label and Ricky watched out of the corner of his eye as her hand reached between him and Sharon to open a drawer, retrieving the corkscrew with practiced ease. This was clearly not the first bottle of wine she'd opened in his mother's kitchen.

Gavin turned to Emily as they moved toward the dining table, quietly whispering, "$20 says it'll be another Merlot."

Emily gave the man a skeptical look and said, "But we already drank the one you brought. Since when does mom even have Merlot in the house?" Gavin shrugged, giving her a knowing smile and let it go. When Brenda emerged with another bottle of Merlot and offered her a glass, Emily almost choked. She politely accepted, shooting a look at Gavin.

"What about you, Gavin? Aren't you going to have any wine with dinner?" Emily asked, slightly confused when Brenda didn't even bother to offer it to him. He'd only had water and some coffee since he arrived, which Emily found highly unusual.

"Oh, he's not drinkin' tonight," Brenda said with a grin, setting the bottle down at the other end of the table, "isn't that right, Gavin?"

"Gavin?" Emily questioned.

"I, uh, I may have overindulged a little at my Halloween party, Em," Sharon's snort could be heard from the kitchen, causing Emily to raise an eyebrow, "so I'm just…taking a little break right now," he explained.

Sharon and Ricky placed the last of the food on the table and Gavin jumped at the chance to steer the conversation away from his drunken exploits, "Sharon, this food looks amazing!"

"Yeah, I bet it would have been even better if we'd been able to eat on time," Emily snarked under her breath, earning her a stern glare from her mother as Brenda's cheeks flushed. The blonde opened her mouth to apologize again for her tardiness, but closed it as Sharon's head shook almost imperceptibly, her hand reaching out under the table to rest on Brenda's thigh.

"So, how was your Halloween party, Gavin?" Ricky asked, trying to change the subject and ease the sudden tension at the table. To his dismay, the question seemed to have the opposite effect, and his eyes traveled from Gavin, to his mother, to Brenda, and back to Gavin as he tried to figure out what was going on.

"Well, Ricky, that's the thing," Gavin started, sporting an embarrassed expression, "I couldn't really tell you, I don't remember much about it due to the aforementioned overindulgence."

"Ah," Ricky said with a chuckle. "Liver not working as efficiently as it used to in your old age?" he teased, smacking Gavin's arm affectionately. Gavin's face was the picture of outrage, but his laughter helped break the tension and the conversation began to flow more easily.

. . .

The sound of ringing coming from Brenda's purse by the door interrupted the conversation a little while later. She jumped up, excusing herself, and rummaged around in her purse until she finally found the offending object. She'd tossed it in on top, but somehow it always managed to end up in the very bottom of her bag…

"Chief Johnson!" She barked, turning her back on the group and moving as far away from the others as possible without entering the more private areas of the condo. "Yes, Lieutenant, what is it?"

'Chief Johnson' Emily mouthed to her brother, pointing in Brenda's direction, an incredulous expression on her face. Ricky shrugged back at her, his shock at the revelation turning to amusement. They'd heard their mother vent about her interactions with a certain Chief on more occasions than either of them could count, so this was, indeed, a surprising turn of events.

"Whaddya mean missin'?!" Brenda exclaimed. "Bloody clothes don't just up an' walk away on their own, Lieutenant!"

They watched with interest as the blonde paced back and forth while listening to whoever it was on the other end of the phone, frustration rolling off of her in waves.

"I swear, I leave y'all alone for five minutes…" she shook her head, exasperated. "Well, FIND THEM, Lieutenant! And when you do, you're gonna personally deliver them to the lab for analysis. Personally, Lieutenant. Is that understood?!" she paused, waiting for acknowledgement.

"Oooh, Chief Pope's gonna have a fit if he finds out about this," she grumbled, "so find them before he needs to get involved. And let me know as soon as they turn up." She nodded, "Thank you, thank you so much." Ending the call, she flung the phone down on the couch, resisting the urge to storm out the door and ream her Lieutenant out in person. Instead, she walked back toward the table, trying very hard not to stomp as she did so.

Well, the woman certainly didn't hold anything back, Ricky thought to himself, noticing how much larger she seemed than her diminutive stature had suggested at first glance. He could see how his mother might have had difficulties dealing with the woman, smiling as he tried to imagine the two of them going head-to-head.

"I'm so sorry about that," she said, apologetically, waving her hand in the direction of her discarded phone, her voice and smile as calm and polite as could be. She looked to Sharon, who was coming back from the kitchen to clear more items from the table, a concerned look on her face.

"This was just lovely, Sharon, thank you." Something flickered across the brunette's face at her words that Brenda couldn't identify. "Can I help with anythin'?"

Sharon's posture relaxed somewhat as she realized the younger woman wasn't leaving just yet. "Oh, would you mind taking this?" she pressed a half-empty casserole dish into the blonde's hands and nudged her gently toward the kitchen. Brenda nodded, heading dutifully where Sharon had indicated.

Gavin excused himself, having made plans to meet up with Kyle, who had spent the bulk of the day on the other side of town with his own family. Ricky, and Emily moved to the living room to digest, hoping to somehow make room for pie, while Sharon and Brenda cleaned up in the kitchen.

"So…" Emily said quietly, her head resting against the back of the couch.

"So," Ricky parroted back at her as they watched the women work in tandem. They couldn't see everything from their vantage point, but the women moved back and forth across their line of sight enough that neither of them had to crane their necks to see.

Brenda may not have known where to put everything, but the two of them were clearly comfortable with one another. They easily moved in and out of each other's space, arms brushing occasionally, a hand placed gently on the other's back or hip in warning as they leaned in or reached around one another.

"So that's Chief Johnson, huh?" Emily wondered aloud.

"I definitely didn't see that one coming…" Ricky replied. "But, come to think of it, mom hasn't complained about her in a while now. And Gavin invited both of them to his Halloween party last month, so maybe it's old news at this point?"

"Yeah, to everyone but her own children," Emily huffed. "I can't believe mom held dinner so long for her. What was up with that?"

"I don't know," Ricky shook his head.

"If I hadn't heard that phone call, I never would have believed the stories mom told us about her were true. But having witnessed that, I can well imagine the two of them getting into it at work. Yikes!" Emily said, snorting.

"Right? Not sure I'd want to stick around for that, I'd be concerned about the collateral damage," Ricky laughed, "And I've gotta say, the accent is much better coming from the source than when mom tries to do it."

"Maybe mom was worried Brenda would go all 'Chief Johnson' on her if we didn't wait to eat?" Emily suggested.

"Maybe, but didn't Brenda say she told mom we should go ahead and eat without her?" Ricky countered.

"Oh yeah, and then mom did that whole weird 'I don't have to do what you say because we're not at work' thing."

"They seem fine now, though…Close," he noted, watching Brenda brush a piece of hair out of his mother's face while she was up to her elbows in soapy water, tucking it carefully behind her ear.

"Hmmm," Emily nodded in agreement, sounding very much like her mother. "Do you ever remember mom having a friend from work? Outside the people in her own department, I mean?"

"No," Ricky answered after thinking about it for a minute. "And I don't know if I'd call anyone there a friend. More like friendly acquaintances."

Yes, something was definitely up with their mother, who seemed fine, but hadn't been volunteering much information about what was going on with her lately. Their mother, who was now apparently friends with her arch nemesis from work—to the point of inviting her to Thanksgiving dinner. Their mother, who didn't wait for anyone thanks to years of their father's shenanigans, but had held the meal for an hour and a half tonight waiting on Brenda's arrival—despite her own encouragement not to.

Gavin had been little help. He'd alternated between asking about what Ricky and Emily had been up to and gushing about Kyle, and then had skipped out before they had a chance to corner him for more information.

Ricky sighed, they'd just have to wait until they could get their mom alone and ask her. Luckily, Emily was there to help. There was no way she'd be able to weasel her way out with the two of them tag-teaming.

Brenda's phone rang on the coffee table where Ricky and Emily had relocated it when they took up residence on the couch. Emily picked it up, moving quickly toward the kitchen.

"Hey Brenda, your phone's ring—" she stopped short as she entered the kitchen and found the woman in question leaning into her mother, whispering something in her ear, Sharon's eyes sparkling, amusement writ large on her face.

"Oh, um, here," Emily said, holding the phone out to Brenda, who squinted at the screen and then shook her head. The blonde tried to back away, but Sharon's hands still rested on her hips holding her in place.

"Oh, no. Not now," she said, waving her hand in the air just as the ringing stopped.

Emily looked at her quizzically and then shrugged, setting the phone down on the counter.

"It's my momma and daddy," Brenda clarified, "if I answer it now, we'll still be here at sunrise waitin' to have pie. I'll call 'em back later."

The food put away, dishwasher loaded, and hand washing done, they proceeded to serve up the pie. Sharon took a tiny slice of pumpkin for herself while Brenda opted for good-sized pieces of both the apple cranberry and the pumpkin, much to Ricky and Emily's amusement.

Emily leaned over to her mother and whispered, "Where does she put it?" while eyeing Brenda's plate. Sharon shrugged, smiling at the blonde, whose phone started ringing for a third time just as the first bite of pie was almost to her lips.

"Oh for heaven's sake!" Brenda groaned, setting her fork down none too gently and getting up to retrieve her phone.

"Johnson!" she answered. "Well, thank goodness!" she said, breathing a sigh of relief.

The Raydors all watched with interest as they ate their pie, concluding that the missing evidence must have turned up.

"Lieutenant! How on earth did it end up there?!"

"Uh oh…" Emily said quietly, smiling at her brother. Whoever Brenda was talking to was definitely in the dog house.

The blonde listened quietly for a long time. "Oooh, what does he want, anyway? He should be passed out from eatin' too much turkey, not callin' around checkin' up on me behind my back!" Brenda huffed, sending a longing glance at her uneaten pie. "I'll be there in…well, I'm not sure how long it'll take, but I'm leavin' now," she said, hanging up the phone.

Sharon looked at the younger woman, one eyebrow raised in question. Brenda looked completely deflated.

"Well, they found the missing clothing," Sharon nodded, having gathered that much. "Lieutenant Flynn set it down when he went to answer the phone and it slid down and got wedged between the stacks of packages on the mail cart that was parked in the murder room," Brenda explained.

"The mail clerk didn't notice until he'd delivered a bunch of other packages and then he had to backtrack to figure out where it belonged, and part of that backtrackin' may have involved makin' some phone calls, which Chief Pope got wind of," she sighed.

"AND," she went on, getting more worked up, "someone told Will I wasn't there, but he knows we haven't finished closin' our case, so now he's makin' calls an' sniffin' around behind my back tryin' to figure out where I went even though he's the one always tellin' me I should delegate more!"

Sharon was already in the kitchen, Brenda's plate in hand.

"Wait, Sharon! Where are you goin' with that pie?" Brenda asked, trailing after her.

"Here, Chief," Sharon said, holding out Brenda's fork with the single bite of pie still sitting on it. Instead of grabbing the fork, Brenda leaned forward wrapping her lips around the fork and taking the bite, moaning at the flavor. When her eyes opened again, Sharon pressed a tupperware container into her hands, squeezing gently, "For the road."

Brenda gathered her things, doling out another round of apologies as she did so, and flew out the door.

. . .

"So…" Emily started, while Sharon was making herself some tea a little while later.

"So." Sharon replied, not sure what direction the conversation was going to take.

"Brenda, huh? As in Chief Johnson?!" Emily asked.

"...Yes. Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson of the LAPD." she clarified.

"So…you don't hate each other anymore? She doesn't make your work life miserable?" Emily pressed.

"No," Sharon said, drawing out the word. "The Chief and I have come to…an understanding at work."

"An understanding. Like a truce or something?" Emily asked.

"Something like that," Sharon said with an enigmatic smile as the kettle began to whistle.

"Yeah okay, but people don't generally include people they have truces with for Thanksgiving—unless they're family, like dad…This seems like it'd be more of a 'Hey, why don't you all stop by my 4th of July party, Oh, um, you too, Chief' kind of a deal," Ricky chimed in.

"Good point," Emily nodded. "And since when do you wait around holding meals again? You stopped doing that for dad ages ago."

"This was different. It's different with our line of work. The good people of Los Angeles don't stop shooting and killing one another just so my guests and I can have meals on time," Sharon pointed out. "A lot of things are…different now," she said while pouring hot water into a mug.

"Oh?" Emily said encouragingly.

"Well, now that everything is…legally resolved with your father—"

"Oh my God, mom, NO WAY! Are you dating someone?" Emily squealed excitedly.

"Well…yes," Sharon admitted, her cheeks coloring slightly as she returned the kettle to the stove.

"Wait, is that why you filed for the annulment?" Ricky asked as Sharon turned back to face them.

"No, that is not why I filed for the annulment," she said emphatically. "It happened after I filed. And it was rather…unexpected."

"So, what's his name? Is it someone we know?" Emily could barely contain herself.

Sharon fussed with the tea bag in her cup, dipping it in and out of the water watching the color slowly spread. The repetitive action grounded her and she kept her eyes focused on her mug as she answered in as casual a tone as she could muster, "It's someone you've met, yes…and her name is Brenda." Sharon felt all the air leave her chest with the words, her grip tightening on the tea bag and her too-hot mug.

"Brenda?!" Emily exclaimed at the same time Ricky said, "Wait, what?!"

"Wow, I did not see that coming," Emily said more softly.

"Hmmm, neither did I…" Sharon admitted.

"So you and Brenda are—" Emily started to ask, still processing.

"Dating," Sharon said at the same time Ricky blurted "Eating at the Y now?"

"Richard William Raydor! That was completely inappropriate!" Sharon snapped, shocked as she stepped away from her children to set her tea bag aside, grateful the activity allowed her a moment to hide the flush that had spread to her cheeks at his comment. She sent up a quick prayer for the strength to get through what had suddenly become a supremely uncomfortable conversation. How she had managed to raise two children who talked as openly as hers did about sex—in front of their mother no less—was beyond her. Sometimes Sharon swore they did it on purpose just to see if they could get a rise out of her. She shook her head as she disposed of the tea bag and then almost dropped the honey taking it out of the cupboard, the jar hitting the counter loudly as she caught it just in time.

"Oh my God, Ricky. Seriously?!" Emily exclaimed, smacking her brother on the arm as she tried to stifle a giggle.

The amused look Ricky had been sporting turned more serious as he heard his mother slam the honey on the counter. He'd been trying to lighten the mood, but now it seemed like she might actually be upset.

Her back still to them, Sharon took a breath and began to speak as she stirred a small amount of honey into her tea.

"Discussing my…dating life with the two of you at all is a difficult enough adjustment. And, given the circumstances, I had hoped I'd raised you to handle the news with a certain level of…sensitivity…" She closed the honey and placed it more carefully back in the cupboard, "but I see now I was sorely mistaken. I seem to have significantly overestimated your maturity level."

She turned to face her children, mug in hand, "I'll be sure to remember this the next time either of you bring someone home to visit." She raised an eyebrow and gave them each a pointed look before walking past them into the living room.

Both her children's eyes widened in response to the open threat as Sharon sat down on the couch, stirring her tea and looking as calm as ever.

Emily followed closely behind, shooting a dirty look at her brother, and sat down on the couch right next to her mom. "Wait! How did I get lumped in with him on this? All I did was ask who it was—sorry I got the wrong pronoun, but, you know, you were married to dad for, like, forever, so…based on experience…" she trailed off.

"Sorry, mom," Ricky started, walking closer, but choosing to sit in a chair to give himself a little more distance from his mother, still not quite sure how upset she was about the whole thing. "I'm just…surprised…is all. I was definitely not expecting that, and I guess my mouth started running before my brain could catch up..."

"Hmmm, yes, I'm familiar with that affliction," Sharon said, taking a careful sip of her tea, the corner of her mouth curling into the hint of a smirk. "Brenda suffers from it as well, and it generally results in a full-blown case of foot-in-mouth syndrome," she added with a chuckle, the tension in the room easing again.

"It was a surprise for me as well," Sharon admitted, "and it has all happened rather quickly, so we're still…adjusting. Under other circumstances, I might have waited until things were more…established before introducing you, but…we're dating and it's Thanksgiving and you're both here," she said matter-of-factly, shrugging one shoulder before taking another sip of her tea.

"I saw you guys in the kitchen earlier when I came barging in," Emily said, "Brenda was whispering something to you and you were laughing." She turned to her brother, "Like really laughing. Not her 'I'm mildly amused at best, but going along with it' forced laugh, a real one. Her whole face lit up." She smiled at her mother and put her hand on Sharon's knee, giving it a squeeze. "You seemed happy. Lighter. So I'm happy for you mom."

Sharon placed a hand over Emily's on her knee and squeezed back, trying to blink back the moisture that was threatening to gather behind her eyes.

"So, are you guys out now or whatever?" Ricky asked, "The LAPD's Lipstick Lesbian Power Couple?" he added, his hand painting the air with the headline as he spoke.

"Ricky, STOP! You're doing it again," Emily sighed, exasperated with her brother. "Not every woman who dates women is a lesbian, dumbass."

"Emily, language!" Sharon scolded.

"Oh what, you're the expert on dating women now?" he tossed back at his sister.

"Well, I seem to know more about it than you. Or at least how not to piss women off. No wonder you're single…" Emily sassed.

Sharon took another sip of her tea to hide the smirk at her daughter's last comment and cleared her throat. "In answer to your question, Gavin and Kyle know, and two officers at work, whom we had to inform in case our departments have overlapping investigations, and now you two," she paused.

"As I said, we're still figuring all this out. And I would appreciate your discretion as we do, which means that Brenda and I would like to be the ones to decide if and when we share this information with others, not you," she added, looking pointedly at each of them.

She waited until both Ricky and Emily indicated they understood, nodding her head once in response and then standing up to retrieve her phone.

"What are you doing? Are you texting your girlfriend?" Ricky asked with a grin.

"Hmmm," Sharon hummed, amused. "We tried 'ladyfriend,' but Brenda's phone kept autocorrecting it to 'ladyfingers'," the word punctuated by a snort from Emily, "so yes, we're going with 'girlfriend' for now until we land on something we like better. But no, I'm not texting Brenda. Trying to straighten out whatever…situation Lieutenants Provenza and Flynn managed to create in her absence will be more than enough for her to focus on for the time being," Sharon said, rolling her eyes.

"Since my children apparently have no concept of appropriate boundaries and have lost all respect for privacy, I'm texting Gavin to tell him what his favorite 'nephew' had to say about all this," Sharon said, stopping next to her son on her way back to her seat, her hand going automatically to his hair to try and 'fix' the bits that were sticking up at odd—and likely carefully arranged—angles.

Ricky groaned, leaning away from her and gently batting her hand away, "I said I was sorry…"

"Hmmm, you've said a lot of things tonight, Richard," Sharon replied with a smile that was more terrifying than reassuring. "And I'd like to thank you for making the occasion so…memorable," she added as she returned to the couch and unlocked her phone.

Emily caught the pained expression on her brother's face and shrugged. He'd made his own bed and now was going to have to lie in it. Payback was a bitch in the Raydor household and their mother could play the long game like nobody else. He'd just have to wait and see what she came up with…

. . .

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait very long at all.

"Hey, Em, can you—Oh my God, seriously?!" Ricky broke off mid-sentence as he rounded the corner into the kitchen that Saturday morning.

"What?" Emily asked, unphased, as she poured herself another cup of coffee.

His eyes were wide and his hand gestured forcefully in the direction of their mother, who was making out—rather enthusiastically—with her girlfriend in front of the refrigerator. Well, not so much 'in front of it' as 'pressed up against it.'

"Again?!" he whined.

"Don't look at me," Emily shrugged, walking past him back to the living room. "Hope you didn't want any cream in your coffee," she smirked, "I think they might be a while…"

Ricky sloshed some coffee in his mug as quickly as he could manage and then bolted after his sister.

"What's the big deal?" she asked, trying as hard as she could to retain a neutral expression.

"What's the big—seriously?!" he whisper-shouted at her when they were alone in the living room. "They've been at it all morning! I got up to go to the bathroom earlier and found mom straddling Brenda on the couch! Straddling her, Em."

"Oh, is that what the shriek was that woke me up?" she snorted.

"It wasn't a shriek, I was just surprised to walk into the room first thing in the morning and find my mother making out in someone's lap. I mean, this is mom we're talking about. Have you ever seen her kiss anyone like that before? A quick peck on the lips or the cheek, sure, but I think I've seen more of her tongue today on its way down Brenda's throat than I've seen, well, ever," he said with a shudder.

"Well, you're the one who suddenly decided—without asking, I might add—that we weren't going to have any boundaries around mom's sex life, so…I'd say you brought this on yourself. Payback's a bitch, Rich."

"Ugh," he groaned, cradling his head in his hands and rubbing his eyes to try and clear the images that were seared into his memory. "And don't call me that, Emmylou. You know I hate it."

Emily chuckled, ignoring his dig. "What, you don't think it has a nice ring to it?" He glared back at her and she shrugged, "I'm just saying, this is entirely your doing, so if you don't like it, maybe you should quit whining and work on un-doing it."

She paused to let that sink in for a minute and then continued, "It might also help if you stop freaking out so badly whenever you walk in on them. You squealing and running away is only encouraging them. And is it really so bad? All they're doing is kissing. Just be glad all their clothes have stayed on, unlike my roomma—"

"Oh my God, Emily, STOP!" Ricky said, covering his face again as Emily broke out in a fit of laughter. "I'd say we're pretty lucky," she continued once she calmed down. She leaned in close, a serious expression on her face as she whispered in his ear, "I mean, what if Brenda had spent the night last night instead of just coming over for brunch this morning?"

A look of absolute horror crossed his face and Emily cackled victoriously, the sound only somewhat muffled by the pillow he launched in her direction.

"I take it back, you're worse than they are! What time does your flight leave tomorrow?"

Ricky stood, taking a sip of his black coffee and grimacing. He really did need some cream.

"Okay, I'm coming in! Just need to get some cream!" he announced loudly as he headed for the kitchen. He braced himself as he entered and made a beeline for the refrigerator. "Oh, come on you guys!" he exclaimed as he caught the two women in his peripheral vision.

Brenda was sitting on the counter next to the stove holding a half-full plate of pancakes in her lap and leaning forward to kiss his mother, who was standing between her knees, one hand tangled in her now messy blonde hair, the other holding the spatula.

Once his eyes got past the spectacle, his stomach growled and he noticed a skillet of eggs and a bowl of fruit set off to the side. At least breakfast was on the way…He finished with the cream and put it back in the fridge, his sister's words popping back into his head. He cleared his throat and turned to address his mother, trying very hard to play it cool and not freak out again.

"Um, should I, uh, go ahead and start taking some of this out to the table?" he offered.

Sharon broke away from Brenda and turned to look at her son. "Hmmm? Oh, yes, thank you, Ricky. We're almost done here," she said, turning back to Brenda with a smirk as she flipped the last of the pancakes over.