It was hot when it made impact with her chest, surprisingly hot. But Brenda sent out a prayer of gratitude that the coffee wasn't hot enough to actually scald her. There'd only been enough left in the pot for a partial cup when the suspect had asked for some a few minutes ago. She was also glad, she thought, that he'd taken it black rather than with cream or sugar–at least it wouldn't be sticky or start smelling sour before the end of the day. She'd pushed their suspect pretty hard, had been trying to get a rise out of him, to get him to break. She had expected the name-calling and the yelling, but she hadn't anticipated him grabbing his cup and throwing the remaining contents across the table at her.
Even so, Brenda had barely even flinched, her eyes continuing to bore holes in the man across the table from her. Then she heard Buzz in her ear saying, "Uh Chief, you asked me to let you know when it was time."
She nodded her head once in acknowledgement, a sugary smile spreading across her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes as she said, "Well, as charming as this little chat of ours has been, I think that's more than enough for now. Lieutenant Flynn, Lieutenant Sanchez, would you be so kind as to wrap things up here? Thank you," her tone sounding dangerously syrupy even to her own ears. Then she calmly stood up, grabbed her handbag, and left the interview room, coffee still dripping down the front of her flowery dress. Everyone gave her a wide berth as she headed straight across the murder room and down the hall toward the elevators.
She had a big meeting this morning with Chief Pope and the Commissioner. This was a particularly high-profile case, and they were expecting a progress report. Brenda knew it would be tight with timing today, and she had pushed the suspect a little too hard, too quickly in her rush to try and get a confession before her meeting and the upcoming press conference.
She should have known better. There was a cadence to these things, and Will Pope and the higher ups just didn't understand that sometimes. They constantly complained that she didn't play well with others, but she really was trying this time. She had even asked Buzz to help make sure she left in time so she wouldn't keep them waiting (for once). And now here she stood in the elevator heading upstairs with no confession and covered in coffee, but at least she'd be there on time. What a consolation…
Brenda sighed, she hadn't even bothered to see what she looked like yet. When she got off the elevator, she decided to stop in the bathroom and see what she could do to clean up the damage. After all, she was at least ten minutes early thanks to Buzz.
She looked in the mirror and oh my…It might have only been a partial cup, but the coffee was all over the front of her yellow dress, obscuring much of its pink and green floral print. She thought some might have even made its way inside her bra, and there was a large spot where the dark brown liquid had pooled in her lap after running down her torso. She wet some paper towels under the faucet, adding some soap and starting to dab futilely at one of the splotches while muttering to herself.
She looked up from her task when the door opened and straight into the surprised eyes of Captain Sharon Raydor. Sharon! Brenda froze mid-motion. She hadn't seen the Captain in weeks–not since their conversation at the coffee shop. And now here she was, breezing into the bathroom and almost running straight into Brenda, who she clearly hadn't expected to be standing right there.
"Chief!," Sharon said with more than a little surprise in her voice, "What are you–what happened?" as her eyes trailed down the front of the blonde's dress. The scent of stale, slightly burnt coffee hit her nostrils, but with no hint of sugar or chocolate she could detect. So maybe not Brenda's then. Regardless, she was clearly having a bad morning.
Before the blonde could open her mouth to say anything more, Sharon said, "Stop. I don't need to know. Come with me," and she spun around, hair twirling, and headed back out the door. When Brenda didn't immediately follow, Sharon went back over to her and grabbed her gently by the arm, pulling the blonde in front of her this time before moving her hand gently, but firmly, to the small of Brenda's back. She walked her briskly back to the elevators, pushing Brenda along in front of her, the blonde almost tripping and doing a little half-jog to keep up with the pace the Captain had set. All Brenda managed when they got into the elevator was a half-whispered, "Captain Raydor, what on earth–?" and then she saw the woman push the number for FID's floor.
When the doors opened, Sharon steered the Chief into the nearest bathroom, saying, "Wait here, I'll be right back," and then darting out of the room. She made a beeline for her office, opening a drawer and grabbing a small bottle from the back. Then, she shifted over to the closet in the corner that was mostly filled with old case files. She grabbed a couple things from the rack on the far end and then looked around for something to put them in. There was an empty file box on the floor behind her desk, so she set the items in there and threw the lid on before speed walking her way back out of FID and down the hall to the bathroom, pointedly ignoring the curious glances from her team.
When Sharon entered the bathroom, she put the box on the counter next to the sink and turned her attention to the blonde. Grabbing a couple paper towels and wetting them, Sharon pushed the lid slightly to the side, reached into the box, and removed a small bottle of stain remover. She squirted a few drops onto the wet paper towels and started trying to politely dab at a spot on the Chief's dress, but it was no use. There was just too much coffee, and there was no way she could effectively work the stain remover into the fabric without rubbing all over the other woman's chest, stomach and crotch area. No, this wouldn't do at all.
She walked back over to the bathroom door and locked it before returning her attention to the blonde with a matter-of-fact, "Ok, Chief, take it off." And then everything stopped. In the distance, Brenda heard the sound of a handbag hitting the floor, but it barely registered. She thought maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. It had been weeks–maybe even longer–since she and Sharon had talked at the coffee shop, and they hadn't seen or talked to one another since. Not even passing one another in the elevator or the parking garage.
Things had been busy for her squad, but thankfully there'd been no need to involve FID in any of their recent cases. Yes, thankfully, she reminded herself. But it still felt a little weird–awkward almost–having had such an unexpectedly personal encounter and then nothing...Brenda wasn't quite sure where that left them. And now, she had just watched Captain Sharon Raydor lock the two of them in the bathroom and tell her to take off her clothes. It felt a little like whiplash and she was having trouble getting her head on straight again. She just stood there, frozen, staring at Sharon like a lost child.
"Chief? Your dress. Take it off, please. Quickly!" Sharon tried again, but Brenda remained motionless, staring. "Brenda!" she tried once more to get the blonde's attention, swirling her hands in a 'hurry up' gesture to no avail. Sharon then awkwardly clasped her hands together to try and avoid grabbing the other woman by the shoulders and shaking her. Still no response. Part of Sharon wanted to ask the Chief if she needed help with the word 'quickly,' but then realized the other woman probably wouldn't hear that either…
Brenda's focus finally started to come back to the room, and Sharon watched as a whole array of emotions and expressions cascaded over the blonde's face. The Chief swallowed and then slowly one arm started to lift away from her side, a shaky hand drifting up toward the top of her dress and what Sharon assumed to be the zipper. Sharon sighed impatiently, this was taking too long. She reached up following what she thought was the path of Brenda's hand and started feeling around for the zipper pull under her right arm. It wasn't there. She must have misjudged the trajectory of the woman's arm.
Sharon stepped closer to the Chief, so close now that Brenda could smell her hair, and reached around her back with both arms, her warm thumbs grazing Brenda's back as she finally located the zipper pull. She grabbed it firmly with one hand and held the top of the dress with the other. She should have asked her to turn around first, Sharon thought, but the Chief wasn't exactly firing on all cylinders at the moment and time was of the essence.
When the zipper was fully undone, Sharon stepped back slightly, giving Brenda space to slide her arms out of the straps and step out of the dress. The Chief slipped out of her shoes and then stepped out of the dress without saying a word. She watched as Sharon carefully took the garment from her and turned to the sink in one fluid motion leaving her standing there barefoot in her slip. She was more than a little grateful she'd bothered with the slip this morning, knowing how staticky that particular dress could get if she didn't. Thank heavens for small miracles, she felt exposed enough in front of the other woman as it was.
She watched as the Captain set to work applying more of the stain remover and gently working it into the now completely wet fabric. Sharon felt the Chief's eyes on her and looked up, momentarily meeting the other woman's gaze in the mirror in front of her, before returning her attention to the dress. She worked the fabric a few more times with her hands before carefully wringing some of the water out of it and holding part of it up for examination briefly before returning it to the sudsy water.
She noticed Brenda had been surprisingly quiet since they got off the elevator. Turning around to fully face the blonde, Sharon said, "I'm sorry, Chief, this stuff is good, but you have to apply it quickly before things have a chance to set. There's a tight timeline," she continued, trying to explain her earlier impatience, "If you take too long, it may still help some, but it will only fade the stains rather than removing them completely. We should let it soak a little bit longer and then see how things look."
When she had turned around to look at Brenda, Sharon had half expected to find a huffy, overly-confident Chief with her arms crossed shooting daggers at her and ready to read her the riot act for rushing her in here like this. But instead, the woman who stood there looked small and uncomfortable, off-balance. Not wanting to add to her discomfort, Sharon had made a point to look at Brenda's large, brown eyes rather than her scantily-clad form. However, she couldn't help but notice that one of the coffee stains had soaked all the way through to the slip and the tiny edge of a white cotton bra with pink flowers on it peeking out from underneath. Of course even her bra would be floral print…
Her train of thought was broken by the sound of Brenda's voice, "You're right about there being a tight timeline, Captain. I have a meeting with Chief Pope and the Commissioner–in fact, I'm probably already late–and instead of just having some coffee stains on my dress courtesy of my oh-so-charming suspect, I'm now left with a soaking wet dress I can't even put on!" The last part was delivered with a whine rather than any malice, "And I was really trying to play nice this time, Sharon. I really was," she said, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling trying to hold them back.
Sharon reached out and rested a damp hand on Brenda's upper arm, squeezing gently before realizing her hands were still wet from the sink. Brenda didn't even notice the wetness, just the warm, tingling sensation left on her skin at the contact. She quickly grabbed a towel, wiping off her hands and Brenda's arm, as she asked, "What time was your meeting?" before turning back to the box on the counter.
"Ten thirty," Brenda replied in defeat.
Sharon looked at her watch and said, "It's just ten twenty-eight now, Chief. I'm sorry I was so focused on salvaging your dress I forgot about these," pulling a black pencil skirt and a crisp, white button-down shirt out of the box. She hadn't meant to leave them in the box that long and she was relieved to find they hadn't gotten too crumpled in the process.
"I know it's not really your style, but they're clean, dry, and unstained," she said shrugging one shoulder, "I always keep a few extra items in my office. Sometimes things…happen..I'm not the most popular person in the building, you know," she added, her mouth curving with a slight smirk.
Brenda's eyes widened and a surprised, "Oh," escaped from her as she gratefully took the skirt from Sharon's hand and began stepping into it. It was a little long on her, but they were thankfully close enough to the same size that although the fit wasn't perfect, it'd do just fine.
Sharon looked at her watch again as Brenda quickly slid the shirt over one arm, then the other, and started fumbling clumsily with the buttons in her attempt to hurry. Sharon stepped forward and started to help, buttoning from the bottom up, her steady hands working quickly. Their hands brushed as they both grabbed for the middle button at the same time and Sharon hastily withdrew at the contact, stepping back to let the blonde finish dressing herself.
Brenda tucked the shirt into her skirt and turned toward the mirror, shifting slightly from side to side examining the outfit. "It may not be your style, Chief, but you wear it well. Maybe I'm a little biased, though, that's one of my favorite skirts," she said, shrugging again with a half smile.
Brenda nodded her head and turned to face the brunette, lunging forward and hugging her tightly for a moment before retreating and straightening herself again. Sharon's eyes went wide and she had to take a step back to steady them both from the impact of Brenda's sudden and unexpected gesture. Her arms were pinned to her sides by Brenda's, but she managed to lift her hands and lightly place them on the other woman's back, patting a couple times awkwardly before the blonde released her and stepped away.
"Thank you, Captain. You're a real lifesaver today," she said with a warm smile, "I'd better be going. I don't want to keep them waiting too long." She reached down and picked up her handbag from where it had fallen on the floor earlier and went to open the door, which didn't budge because it was still locked. She rolled her eyes at Sharon in mild embarrassment as she made a point of unlocking it before striding off in the direction of the elevators.
Sharon stared after her for a moment, smiling, before turning and walking back over to the sink where Brenda's dress was soaking. She rinsed out a portion of it and held it up to the light. It seemed the stains were coming out after all. Bit by bit she worked the fabric, rinsing out the rest of the dress, carefully examining each section as she went to make sure it was, in fact, free of coffee. When she was finished, she drained the sink, wringing out as much excess water as she could from the garment without causing damage.
Looking around, Sharon kicked herself for not bringing a plastic bag with her. Leaving a wet dress in a cardboard box all day didn't seem like a good option, but neither did hanging it up in her office to drip on the floor. When her eyes landed on the garbage can, she got an idea. She walked over and pulled the plastic bag to the side so she could reach her hand in between the bag and the receptacle itself. Feeling around, she found what she was looking for. The cleaning crew had left several extra bags down in the bottom. She pulled one out and then shifted the current liner back into its original position.
She grabbed several handfuls of paper towels and put them in the bottom of the bag before placing the soggy dress on them and twisting the top of the bag closed. She retrieved the stain remover from the edge of the sink and set that and the bagged dress inside the cardboard box, placing the lid back on top.
Box in hand, Sharon walked triumphantly back through FID to her office–at a normal pace this time–and closed the door. She returned the stain remover to her desk drawer and looked again at the yellow dress. She could see the floral print through the translucent trash bag. She shook her head, sighing as she put the lid in place once more and moved the box onto the floor behind her desk.
Part of her had hoped she would have to tell the Chief it was unsalvageable. Perhaps then she could have offered the woman a pencil skirt as consolation. But Sharon didn't lie, so the flowery dress would find its way back to the Chief soon enough. She turned her attention to her computer, logging in and preparing to get back to work. As Sharon waited for the screen to load, she smiled to herself. Brenda really had looked good in that skirt…