It was Saturday, and Brenda and her squad finally had a day off. She woke up all on her own–no call from work, no alarm–just morning sunlight pouring in her bedroom window. She laid in bed for a minute appreciating the fact that she didn't have to jump up in a surge of adrenaline and enjoying the feeling of her soft sheets before she rolled over and looked at the clock. It was still fairly early but she'd gotten almost 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep for the first time in weeks and she felt…almost human again. As she blinked away the sleep from her eyes, she noticed the scrap of paper sitting on her nightstand with the coffee shop's name and address scribbled on it. She decided to get ready and go check it out.
With their recent caseload, there hadn't been time for grocery shopping, so there wasn't much to eat in the house–she really needed to pick some things up today–but she managed to find some mango sticky rice in the fridge from her takeout a couple days ago.
She washed her face, put her hair up in a ponytail and ran her hand along the skirts in her closet until she hit the soft fabric she was looking for. She grabbed a matching shirt and cardigan and threw on a little lipstick and mascara before nodding to herself in the mirror. That'd do. It was just a coffee shop after all, not like she was going to run into anyone she knew. Hoisting her oversized handbag onto her shoulder, she headed out to the car, paper scrap in hand.
It must have been a good day because she didn't take a single wrong turn on the way there. Or maybe, she mused, she was only bad at navigating when she was distracted or sleep-deprived–or both. She found a parking spot nearby and walked the remaining half block to the coffee shop.
As she entered, the smell of coffee immediately enveloped her in a warm hug and she took a moment to soak in the rich, inviting interior. Ooh, this was exactly what she needed today.. Brenda moved toward the counter, then stopped. Her eyes scanned the menu, brow furrowing as she tried to figure out what on earth had been in that mystery coffee. It was more than just a mocha, it was something else entirely. And it was spectacular.
The barista, seeing the confusion on her face, waved her the rest of the way over to the counter and asked if she could help. Brenda started and stopped and then sighed, explaining that someone had surprised her at work earlier in the week with a special coffee drink from this shop, but she didn't know what, exactly, it was, so she wasn't sure how to go about ordering it again. As she started describing it, a smile of recognition spread across the barista's face and she nodded saying, "Ah, yep. I remember the one. That was a fun order to make. No wonder you looked confused, you won't find it on the menu," she added, tapping her temple with her index finger, "it's an original."
The blonde's eyebrows raised briefly in surprise before she returned the smile and said, "Well, this must be my lucky day." Brenda watched, fascinated, as the woman once again carefully selected from the varieties of chocolate and spices and set about concocting her delicious, off-menu treat.
As the barista handed over the order, complete with a beautiful design on top, she met Brenda's eyes and then gestured with her head, glancing over to the alcove in the far corner. Then she smiled warmly at the blonde, grabbing a rag and turning back to wipe the counter before greeting her next customer.
Brenda's eyes followed the path of the barista's gaze, a pulse of shock and surprise rippling through her body from head to toe when she saw the familiar–yet somewhat unfamiliar–silhouette of Captain Sharon Raydor tucked in the cozy nook.
Sharon Raydor was her mysterious coffee benefactor?! She stood frozen in place for a moment while her mind tried to play catch-up. Captain Raydor, the woman who went out of her way to ruin Brenda's days by meddling in her investigations? The Captain, who spouted rules as easily as breathing and who was so uptight even her steps seemed precisely calibrated? That measured, calculating, infuriating woma had for some unfathomable reason bought her a coffee?! But why?
There had to be a reason…Was someone on Brenda's team under investigation again? Was the Captain trying to butter her up? Did she need some kind of favor? Raydor had been unexpectedly cooperative when Brenda needed information during her last investigation…What on earth did that woman want?! What was her angle?
Brenda let out a forceful huff, gearing up to storm over there and ask her just that. She made it about 3 steps before she stopped again, her brain catching up with her. If Sharon Raydor had wanted something from her, if there was an ulterior motive, then why didn't she take credit for it? She could easily have left a note, or, if she was worried about prying eyes, she could at least have mentioned it when she came up to assist with their last case. But there was no question asked, no casual comment tossed out about coffee, no lording it over Brenda. She hadn't said a word.
The blonde's brow furrowed in confusion. As far as she could tell, there seemed to be absolutely no expectation of acknowledgement or thanks attached. Just…coffee…delicious coffee. She was starting to feel a little unsettled…What in heaven's name was going on?
Brenda's eyes refocused on her surroundings and she looked at the other woman now from across the room. Her hair was pulled up loosely in a clip, almost…messy–almost. It was casual, yes, but not the unkempt disaster Brenda's hair would be if she tried to do the same. How did that woman manage to make even her messiness look tidy and intentional? She was dressed in leggings and an oversized knit sweater, and her customary stiletto heels had been traded in for a pair of Uggs. One leg was pulled up to her chest, her arms wrapped around it, hands tucked up inside the sleeves. A pottery mug similar to Brenda's own sat in front of her on the table, untouched, along with some papers and a pen, but all were forgotten as she stared out the window lost in thought.
It was definitely still Sharon Raydor, but with…softer edges. And as Brenda continued to take her in, she was surprised to find that this look actually suited the Captain, made her seem more approachable, unguarded, more human. This was Sharon she was seeing today, not Captain Raydor from FID.
As though not wanting to startle this newly-discovered Sharon-creature, Brenda slowly, tentatively resumed her path over to the corner alcove. Approaching the table, Brenda softly said "Captain Raydor," but received no response.
Brenda took another step forward, one leg now flush with the edge of the table, "'Scuse me, Captain?" But Sharon still didn't respond. She sat, unmoving, her mind off somewhere a million miles away. Brenda took a breath and cleared her throat. She leaned forward slightly, placing her hand on the table, and tried once more, "Sharon?"
At that, Sharon's entire body jumped about four inches off the soft cushion she was sitting on and her head whipped around so quickly Brenda thought it might fly off. At the same time, Brenda took a step back and straightened, removing her hand from the table to give the other woman some space. Sharon inhaled sharply and a quiet "Bren–?" came out before her whole demeanor shifted.
Her leg slammed down hard onto the floor as she turned and squared her body fully with the blonde, her spine now ramrod straight. Both hands shot out of her sleeves, palms pressed firmly into the surface of the table, almost as though she needed them to brace herself. Her features hardened into some semblance of her familiar mask, and although she was clearly taken completely by surprise, she managed a cool, even "Chief Johnson, what can I do for you?"
Something in Brenda's chest tightened and dropped, hardening in the pit of her stomach. This was exactly what she hadn't wanted to happen. The Sharon from a moment ago had all but disappeared and Captain Raydor now sat in her place on high alert. It was almost impressive, Brenda thought, how quickly and seamlessly the transformation had happened, even without the added armor of her usual work attire.
The silence stretched on and Brenda realized she had probably been standing there staring for a little too long. Feeling suddenly awkward, she cleared her throat again and uttered a soft "May I?" gesturing to the other side of the table.
Sharon was still breathing someewhat heavily, adrenaline coursing through her body making her feel slightly nauseated. She forced herself to take some slow, even breaths as she tried to recover from the shock of Chief Johnson's sudden appearance. She chided herself for being so unaware of her surroundings that she hadn't even noticed the other woman's approach. Then again, she had a lot on her mind today…and what was done was done.
Her attention shifted back to the blonde standing in front of her. The Chief was dressed casually and her eyes were bright, the dark shadows from earlier in the week had receded and she looked almost rested. Sharon quickly glanced around the shop, but there were no signs of Sergeant Gabriel or anyone else from Priority Homicide. She relaxed slightly. Perhaps they had the day off, too. But that didn't explain what Chief Johnson was doing here.
Sharon nodded her head slightly and gestured for Brenda to sit. While the other woman set down her mug and her handbag, preparing to sit, Sharon reached for her own drink with her right hand, moving it in front of her, while smoothly flipping the papers over with her left so their contents were obscured before pushing them further off to the side. She then turned her attention back to the Chief, her eyebrows raised.
As Brenda finished settling in, she resumed their conversation, "Well, Captain Raydor, it seems to me you already did." She met Sharon's eyes, taking in her startled, confused expression–her mask was definitely not fully in place, the poor woman was clearly and uncharacteristically rattled. A wave of guilt washed over Brenda as she realized just how much she had disrupted Sharon's quiet morning.
Without breaking eye contact, Brenda's face softened and she restated Sharon's question "What can you do for me?" Then, she lifted her mug in both hands, holding it up between them for emphasis and clarified, "The coffee. It was you who left the mystery coffee on my desk the other day." It was a statement, not a question, but there was a hint of disbelief coloring the edges of her words. She still couldn't quite wrap her head around the fact that it was Sharon Raydor who had left it for her.
Thanks to the Chief's clarification, Sharon's brain finally started to catch up with the conversation. She really was out-of-sorts today. Of all the days and all the ways this could have come to light, she had not expected Brenda to show up here today, in her sanctuary, and she was still reeling a bit. Sharon cleared her throat, gathering herself, and held Brenda's gaze as she quietly admitted, "It was, yes…"
"The thing is," Brenda continued, "I can't seem to figure out why…"
Sharon took a breath and looked down at the table in front of her. Her hands, having no pockets available to them, moved to her own mug, fidgeting slightly. Shaking her head, she met Brenda's eyes again. "I'm sorry, Chief, you're just the last person I expected to run into here today."
Brenda just nodded, keenly aware that the other woman was sidestepping the question, but she decided to let it go for now. She still felt bad for having barged in and disturbed the woman's peaceful morning. She could sense the Captain watching, bracing herself for pushback about her evasion.
But instead, Brenda shifted her attention to the mug in her hands, the one she had yet to drink from despite all her efforts to acquire it. She brought it to her lips, inhaling before taking an eager, but careful sip. She let her eyes close, swallowing slowly, an audible "Mmm…" escaping as a soft smile spread across her lips, her eyes meeting Sharon's once more.
The corner of Sharon's mouth turned up in the tiniest hint of a smile at the blonde's reaction to the beverage and the tension in her body relaxed slightly. As thrown as she was by this whole interaction, she could easily imagine the Chief sitting in her office consuming her surprise gift in much the same fashion. She couldn't help but feel a warmth in her chest and a certain amount of satisfaction at having found something that the Chief enjoyed so immensely.
She should have known the other woman wouldn't be able to let an anonymous gift go uninvestigated. Of course she had put her infamous single-minded focus to work figuring out where it came from. It was just a matter of time and bandwidth, both of which she seemed to have today.
Brenda released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding when she saw a faint smile playing at the corner of Sharon's mouth in response to her own. There it was. There she was again, peeking out through the crumbling edges of Captain Raydor's mask. Brenda's smile widened at that, a mix of relief and anticipation bubbling up to chase away the guilt. And just like that, she had a new goal: she wanted–needed–to find out more about this Sharon the Captain had kept tucked so neatly behind her mask until now.
Brenda gently set her mug down, not wanting to spill a single drop of the precious liquid. It was her turn to shake her head as she said "I don't know what all is in this," gesturing at the mug, "but it tastes like heaven. It's like drinking the most amazing, decadent dessert I could ever imagine. I tried to watch her make it," nodding her head in the direction of the barista, "but I may have gotten a little distracted by the prospect of tasting it again..."
She paused to take another sip, moaning a little louder this time in appreciation as she swallowed, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks as she opened her eyes and noticed the other woman staring at her. Then she leaned forward on her elbows conspiratorially and lowered her voice slightly, "Seriously, Sharon, it might be better than sex–" at which point she was interrupted by a muffled giggle-snort followed by a fit of coughing.
Sharon had leaned forward, mirroring Brenda's posture, and had chosen precisely the wrong moment to take a sip of her own beverage. And while she'd managed not to spray it all over the table and the other woman, she now found herself gasping for breath and trying, with only a limited measure of success, to expel the liquid from her airway. Despite the noises Brenda had been making, she had certainly not expected her to say that!
Brenda jumped up to find some napkins and reappeared next to Sharon this time, rather than across the table. She patted the brunette on the back as she continued to cough, handing her several napkins. The poor woman's eyes were watering, her nose was running, and she was still alternating coughing and trying to get enough air. Brenda noticed that although Sharon had quite admirably managed not to spit coffee out all over the table, in her coughing fit she had sloshed a fair amount onto the papers next to her before she'd managed to set her mug back down on the table.
The blonde used a couple more napkins to sop up the pools of liquid staining the papers. Unfortunately, she had taken too long and the pages were already soaked through, so she started carefully separating them before blotting the remaining moisture and laying them out to help them dry more quickly.
She wasn't trying to pry, she really wasn't, but in the process, she couldn't help but notice the words "Dissolution" and "Marriage" along with the name of the Petitioner: Sharon Raydor. Brenda's eyes went wide and she inhaled sharply. It had honestly never occurred to her that the woman might be married. She had never mentioned a spouse, but then again it wasn't like they'd ever really engaged in conversation much beyond slinging thinly-veiled insults and fighting over cases. Until very recently.
Was this divorce something new? Sharon was listed as the petitioner, not the respondent, so it wasn't a surprise to her, it was something she was initiating. Maybe. It didn't look like anything was signed yet. No wonder she had been so deep in thought when Brenda approached and more ruffled than usual by her presence.
Brenda remembered well the convoluted mess of feelings that had accompanied her own divorce the previous year. The relief, the feeling of finally being free and able to breathe again mixed with a deep sense of failure and loss. There had been a surprising amount of grief and mourning for what could have been, but wasn't. For all the hopes and dreams that would never be more than unrealized potential, eventually fizzling out into…nothing…It was strange to feel that hollow ache deep inside for something she didn't even want anymore, but it was there. She still felt it sometimes, but it was better now, less raw.
A heavy weight settled onto Brenda and she wished she wished she hadn't seen the papers. She had wanted to learn more about Sharon, yes, but not like this. Their very tentative truce was less than a week old and this was just too personal, too much. It felt like a violation somehow, but she couldn't unsee it.
Brenda sighed and turned her attention back to Sharon, patting her back firmly a few more times and handing her another napkin. The wave of guilt washing through Brenda was countered by the softness of Sharon's sweater under her hand. Without really meaning to, Brenda found herself rubbing circles on Sharon's back, saying "There, there," quietly as the other woman's coughing and gasping abated and her breathing returned to a more even cadence.
Sharon took one more shaky breath in, blew her nose, wiped her eyes, and cleared her throat. Her composure regained, she turned to the woman she now realized was sitting right next to her, gently rubbing her back, and croaked "Thank you, Chief."
"Brenda," the blonde responded before she could help it, suddenly hyper aware of their close proximity and her hand still rubbing Sharon's back. She halted her movements and lightly patted the woman's back twice more before withdrawing completely and returning to her side of the table.
"Brenda." Sharon repeated, trying it out with a slow, deliberate nod as she watched Brenda move away. It felt strange to say it out loud to her face, but she'd certainly thought of the woman as Brenda before today, so it wasn't entirely unfamiliar.
"I'm sorry, Brenda. You did seem to be enjoying your coffee quite a bit, as I'd hoped you would, but I was not expecting you to say that." The implication hanging in the air that it was either some REALLY good coffee, or the woman was having some really mediocre sex. She knew that the Chief and Agent Howard weren't together anymore, but Sharon didn't want to think about either of their sex lives any more deeply than that. She did still have to work with both of them. If the Chief wasn't having any sex–or at least not any good sex–that was none of her business. And who was she to judge? Those in glass houses and all…Sharon abruptly cut off that train of thought, but couldn't help the slight blush that crept up her face.
Brenda shrugged her shoulders and looked heavenward with an innocent expression before her mouth twisted into a sly grin as she said "What can I say, Captain–"
"Sharon," the brunette interjected. If they were talking about sex over coffee–implicitly or explicitly–then this was going to be Brenda and Sharon having a conversation on their day off and not the Deputy Chief and the Captain.
It was Brenda's turn to nod, smiling broadly "What can I say, Sharon, I call it like I see it. And when it's good, it's good…so…" She paused, "...thank you." Her eyes held Sharon's as she uttered the last two words, all traces of sass gone as her smile softened into something more tentative, unsure. Her expression conveying a level of sincerity and openness Sharon wasn't expecting.
The brunette watched, then, as Brenda lowered her eyes momentarily, her expression shifting again and her tone becoming more serious as she looked up and continued, "I don't know how you knew, but I was having a bad day–an extremely bad couple of days, actually–and it…helped…" she said quietly, looking away and taking another sip from her mug to cover the slight discomfort she felt at her admission.
Yes, she'd needed the caffeine, and yes, it had been delicious, but it was more than that. She had been exhausted, running on fumes with no end in sight and feelings of hopelessness had started creeping in.
She didn't have a husband or a partner or any friends, really, outside of her work colleagues, so that coffee–that one small gesture, someone thinking of her and doing something kind for her when she was at a low point–well, it had meant a lot. Brenda hadn't even had a chance to fully process it until this moment. And the fact that out of everyone she knew, Sharon Raydor had been the one to do it meant something, too. She wasn't sure what, but…something…
Sharon paused, trying to figure out how to respond to this sudden and unexpected display of vulnerability on Brenda's part. She didn't really want to open herself up to Brenda Leigh Johnson of all people. Whatever they had going on right now, this cease fire, was still very shaky. The last thing she wanted to do was give the woman more ammunition to come back at her with later. The blonde was a skilled and relentless interrogator and would stop at nothing to get what she wanted, no matter who got hurt in the process. A fact that was at the root of most of their differences.
And yet, when Sharon opened her mouth, the words fell out without the slightest push from the other woman, "I saw you." Her eyes went wide when she heard herself say it, but it was too late. It was out there now, and the words kept coming before Brenda's mouth could even form a question.
"Late that night when I brought Lt. Provenza's crossword puzzle back," Sharon continued, her voice low as though she was sharing a secret. "Everyone else had gone home and I thought you'd gone too, but then I saw you in your office through the blinds, still trying to put the pieces together even though nothing fit…" She took a breath, "...and in the parking garage the next morning when you were rolling out, I was just getting in and you almost knocked me over."
Brenda started to open her mouth to defend herself at that, but Sharon kept going, words spilling out of her, not leaving any room for the other woman to respond. "I saw you. After the rest of your team had driven away. You just looked so exhausted, and thanks to Lt. Provenza's tactful reminder, I was feeling a tiny bit guilty for having taken your coffee before at the other crime scene–" Sharon's face scrunched a little at that admission, "–and for coming in to work that morning having gotten a decent amount of sleep when you likely hadn't slept at all, or maybe only a few hours at your desk. I know what it's like, we've all had those days…"
She took another breath, "I'd just come off a reporting cycle, and I had some time before my first meeting. I don't know what happened, exactly, but I found myself back in my car on my way here." She paused to look around the room, "This is my favorite place. It's where I come to recharge or take a break when I need it. I guess…" she trailed off, "...I guess I just wanted to do something…to try and bring a little piece of that to you on a day when you could clearly use it." Sharon shrugged one shoulder slightly and the corners of her mouth twitched into a slightly embarrassed half-smile.
"I explained to Lily," Sharon gestured in the barista's direction, "that someone at work was having a rough day and asked her to make something special as a pick-me-up. I'd learned from the crime scene coffee that you apparently prefer a little coffee with your chocolate and not the other way around, so I told her that, too, and she went to work. She's been here for years and she really is a gem. I think she's a manager or partner of some kind now. But she's always here. Anyway, I'm glad you liked it and…I'm glad it helped."
Sharon stopped then and took another slow sip of her own beverage. She was slightly mortified by the monologue that had just spilled out of her in Brenda's general direction, but she also felt lighter somehow for having shared it. She searched the blonde's face for a reaction and saw the woman smile.
Brenda sat stunned for a moment trying to process all the words that had just come out of the woman across the table from her. She thought this might be the longest she had ever heard Sharon Raydor speak–unless she was spouting some statute or regulation. But usually even then, Brenda or someone else interrupted her before she got that far.
Brenda just smiled and said, "Well, she really knows her stuff because this drink is truly a slice of heaven. You should try it sometime," she laughed when she saw the poorly-disguised grimace on the other woman's face, "and this place, I'd never heard of it before. It's different. It feels rich, cozy, comforting–kind of like the coffee, now that I think about it.
Sharon chuckled and smiled back, "I do love it here," she said. Her eyes traced a path from Brenda, around the room to Lily and back to their table, landing on the stained, wrinkled divorce papers spread out in front of her. Her smile vanished and she let out a soft, resigned "Oh…" She hadn't even noticed she'd spilled on them. In fact, she'd completely forgotten they were even on the table, although she's not sure how she could possibly have missed them. They stood out like beacons on the dark surface. Sharon gathered them up, awkwardly trying to tidy the pile, but it was no use, they were ruined. She sighed and gave up. She would print out another copy later.
And then she hummed and a low chuckle reverberated through her. Brenda looked at her questioningly. "Well, I'm sure you noticed the divorce papers," Sharon gestured to the stained, crumpled pages. Brenda slowly nodded even though part of her wanted to feign ignorance, and Sharon continued, "I just realized that their current state is a painfully accurate reflection of the state of my marriage…" She trailed off, taking a sip of coffee and staring into her cup. "At this point, we've been legally separated for more years than we were together, and I was sitting here this morning trying to decide whether to finally file for divorce."
When Brenda didn't say anything, Sharon took a breath and continued, "I'm Catholic, and divorce has been a…tricky…topic for me for a long time. I prayed for a sign and, well, it would seem I got my answer," she said, shrugging one shoulder again and meeting Brenda's eyes with a watery smile.
Brenda reached across the table and covered Sharon's hand with her own, squeezing briefly before withdrawing it and curling her fingers once again around her mug. "As I'm sure you're aware, Fritz and I divorced last year. It's a painful process at best and at worst, well…" she didn't have to finish that 'd both seen it play out in their work more times than either cared to count.
Sharon nodded, "I'm not sure if they'll even be able to find Jack to deliver them, let alone whether he'll agree to sign." She turned to look out the window and went on to explain, "he's not exactly the most…reliable…person," she turned back to Brenda, her tone turning colder and her mouth tightening into the semblance of the sneer she often sported at work "unless there's a cold drink, a hot card game, or a hot secretary nearby…" She exhaled and shook her head, "But I haven't even signed them yet, so it would appear I'm getting a little ahead of myself."
Brenda smiled sadly and said, "You'll know when you're ready."
Sharon sighed and nodded in thanks. "I'm sorry I'm a bit of a mess today. This probably wasn't what you expected when you came in here this morning," she said apologetically.
"No, it most certainly was not. Although I didn't really know what to expect walking in here. At that point, I had no idea you were my Mysterious Coffee Benefactor." Sharon laughed at her new title before Brenda continued, "I'm sorry for barging in on your personal time. As surprised as I was to find you here, it must have been quite a shock for you to have your work world suddenly appear in your private sanctuary like that."
"Yes, it was," Sharon replied. "As you know, working in FID has left me…not particularly well-liked by many of my colleagues in the department. In order to…function effectively, it's important for me to keep my professional and private lives separate. This," she gestured between them, "today was…unexpected…" Sharon paused and met Brenda's eyes with an intensity that underscored the weight of her next words, "but I prefer to avoid having my personal life fuel the LAPD gossip mill, so I would appreciate it if you would keep what we discussed here to yourself."
Brenda held the other woman's gaze as she replied, "Of course, Sharon, I understand. Not a word. I've had more than enough of my own private business broadcast around Parker Center and I can appreciate your desire for discretion." She smiled now and continued, "Besides, if I'm not mistaken, Deputy Chief Johnson and Captain Raydor have the day off today. This was just plain Brenda talking with just plain Sharon over coffee on a Saturday morning."
Sharon let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her body relaxed, and she smiled back at the blonde, a warm wave of relief and gratitude washing over her.
With that settled, Brenda took the last sip of her coffee, gathered her things, and excused herself. She wanted to allow Sharon time to finish processing whatever it was she was working through and it was already close to noon. She placed her mug in the dish return and stopped by the counter to thank Lily once more for her phenomenal creation before heading for the door and out into the rest of her day.
Sharon sat there, staring at Brenda's retreating form and trying to make sense of it all. Did that really just happen? Yes, she knew it was real–she had coffee stains on her divorce papers to prove it. Then she smiled to herself, hearing Brenda's voice echo in her head, It was just plain Brenda talking with just plain Sharon, but it somehow felt like more than just coffee…