Brenda stepped out of the elevator and walked throuh the door to the parking garage toward her car, already thinking about which restaurant to order from for dinner. As she passed a row of cars, something caught her eye. Turning to get a closer look, she discovered that something was, in fact, Captain Raydor, who was sitting in her car, asleep.
She tapped lightly on the window, but the Captain didn't stir. She knocked a little harder and the brunette's eyes flew open with a jolt. With shaking hands, Sharon fumbled for her key and jammed it in the ignition so she could roll down her window.
"Chief Johnson, what can I do for you?" she asked, still trying to collect herself.
"Good evening, Captain. I was just passing by and couldn't help but notice you sleeping in your car." She didn't want it to sound like an accusation, "Is everything alright?" she asked, her tone and expression laced with concern.
Sharon exhaled, touching a shaky hand to her forehead. "Yes, I think so. I was just resting for a minute before heading home." Her body was giving out on her despite the inordinate amount of caffeine she'd ingested. She just needed to make it home, then she could sleep for a few hours.
"I—it's been a long day…" Sharon sighed and tried to blink, but when she closed her eyes, her eyelids were so heavy she could barely pry them open again. After a long moment she managed to lift them a fraction and squinted at the Chief, trying to bring the woman's features into focus. She was about to open her mouth to reassure the blonde that she just needed another minute and she'd be on her way when Brenda pushed back.
"Captain Raydor, you've seemed awfully tired all day today, and I really don't think you should be driving right now. Why don't I give you a lift?"
Sharon let out a low "Hmm…" her eyes closing again. "As much as I hate to say it, Chief, I think you're right." She rolled up her window, pulled the key out of the ignition, and reached blindly over toward the passenger seat for her purse. Brenda stepped aside so the brunette could open her car door. Once Sharon had everything, she locked her car and the two women made their way over to where Brenda was parked.
Knowing Brenda was terrible with directions, Sharon had initially offered to navigate, but almost as soon as the car was in motion, her head had tipped back against the headrest and she'd fallen asleep. Brenda glanced over at the brunette, her face slack, her lips slightly parted, and almost hated to wake her, but she'd never been to the Captain's house before and she had no idea where she was going… "Uh, Captain?" Brenda hoped the sound of her voice would be enough to rouse her, but there was no reaction. "Yoohoo, Captain Raydor," she tried more loudly, using the tone she knew drove the other woman crazy, but she didn't answer.
Sighing, the blonde pulled the car over and put it in park. She brought up her GPS and then put a hand on the Captain's shoulder, applying gentle pressure and saying, "Sharon, I need your address." The older woman nodded and, without opening her eyes, gave Brenda the information she needed. The address entered, Brenda hit Start and pulled back out onto the road. She smiled to herself for a minute thinking she was getting better at some of this technology stuff after all.
They'd both been late getting out of work tonight, so traffic wasn't too bad. Twenty minutes later, they turned into the parking lot of Sharon's condo and Brenda pulled into an open spot in visitor parking.
"Ok, Captain, we're here," Brenda said, killing the engine and cracking her door so the overhead light came on. She'd hoped the glaring light and the sound of her voice cutting through the silence would signal to the other woman they'd arrived, but she didn't move. Brenda put a hand on her shoulder again and shook the other woman gently, trying to rouse her. "Captain Raydor, it's time to wake up, you're home now."
At that, Sharon stirred, humming softly, but she made no effort to leave the car. "Oh, for heaven's sake," Brenda sighed as she grabbed her purse and walked around to the passenger side of the car. There was no way this woman would have made it home tonight by herself! She opened the passenger door and gathered the Captain's purse, sliding it onto her shoulder next to her own. Bracing herself on the shoulder of Sharon's seat, she reached around the other woman to unbuckle her seatbelt, fumbling slightly due to the awkward angle.
Having freed the Captain from her restraint, the blonde stepped back to give her room to stand, but she just sat there. Brenda let out another exasperated sigh, her hands shooting out and hooking behind the brunette's knees. She physically turned the Captain's legs, lifted them out of the car, and set them on the ground, careful not to scuff her shiny shoes. She was too annoyed with the sleepy woman and too focused on trying to get her inside the building to notice how soft and warm the delicate skin felt beneath her fingers.
That seemed to do the trick. Sharon's eyes shot open as her sleepy body registered warm, slender hands touching the sensitive skin behind her knees, repositioning her. She felt their heat travel outward spreading to fill every inch of her entire body. It was much softer this time and less intense than whatever happened earlier, the sensations dampened somewhat by the haze of sleep. She managed to stand on her own, but was a little unsteady on her feet, something she attributed to the lack of sleep and the height of her heels, not the sudden shakiness in her knees.
Brenda watched as Sharon opened her eyes and stood up, wobbling slightly—small wonder in those shoes!—and then she stepped in and wrapped her arm around the Captain's waist, draping the other woman's arm over her shoulder. She chalked up the rush of warmth she felt to the exertion and focused instead on kicking the door closed with her foot and guiding them toward the building's entrance.
Sharon continued to wake up as they walked, her mind registering the Chief's solid frame pressed against her own, the strong arm wrapped around her waist. She straightened a bit, making an effort not to lean so heavily on the blonde. "Where's my purse?" she asked, clearing her throat and running her free hand through her hair.
Brenda let go of her waist and stepped to the side so she could dislodge the purse from her shoulder, handing it to the Captain.
Sharon took the offered item and held one side up to the door sensor, but nothing happened. She turned the purse around to the other side, pressing it fully against the sensor and the door buzzed, admitting them. They headed toward the elevators and Sharon started digging around trying to find her keys. She swayed slightly on her feet, but stayed upright, so Brenda continued to give her space.
When the elevator stopped on Sharon's floor, Brenda followed her down the hall stepping inside as the older woman held the door open for her. Sharon dropped her purse on the table by the door and said, "Thank you for the ride, Chief. I'm just going to go change and maybe splash a little water on my face." She made her way through the condo toward her bedroom, turning on lights as she went.
Brenda stood there awkwardly in the entry, unsure what to do next. It seemed like Sharon wanted her to wait while she changed before heading home. "Have you eaten?" Brenda asked, "I could heat something up for you while you're changing or call in an order if you want?"
Sharon shook her head, "No, I've been running on so much caffeine and adrenaline I'm not sure I could keep anything down right now, but thank you anyway," and with that, she turned and disappeared down the hallway toward what Brenda assumed was her bedroom.
Brenda figured she'd just wait long enough to make sure Sharon was settled and then head out. She set her purse down on the floor by the entry table and slipped off her shoes, placing them next to the other shoes lined up along the wall.
Although Sharon had declined her offer, Brenda decided to head into the kitchen anyway to look for some food. The kitchen was immaculate, nothing left out on the countertops, no dirty dishes in the sink—not even anything left in the drying rack. Brenda wasn't sure why that was such a surprise. The Captain was so particular, she should have known the woman's home would be just as meticulously-kept as everything else about her...
Brenda opened the refrigerator in search of leftovers. There were a few containers in the back, but Brenda had no idea what was in them and didn't want to go digging. She closed the door and started opening drawers until she found one with some takeout menus neatly stacked to one side. Or course they were. Not like the rumpled, stained mess of menus at Brenda's house.
She looked through the options and went to grab her phone. The GPS screen with Sharon's address on it was still open, asking her to rate the directions. Taking a piece of paper off the notepad on the refrigerator, she copied down Sharon's address, she'd figure out how to save it in her phone later. She called in an order for herself, a light soup for Sharon in case she decided she wanted a little broth or something in her stomach after all, and then she added a more substantial entree that the Captain could have for tomorrow in case things were still bad at work.
Brenda hung up the phone and noticed that Sharon hadn't come back out yet. She waited another few minutes, listening, but everything was quiet. There were no sounds of movement or water running or drawers closing, nothing. Brenda tentatively walked down the hallway in the direction Sharon had disappeared.
She passed two darkened rooms before coming to a stop at the end of the hall. The door was ajar and soft light spilled out into the hallway. Brenda called, "Captain?" but there was no response. She knocked gently on the open door and tried again, "Everything ok in here?" When she was met with silence again, Brenda pushed the door open a little further and stepped into the room.
As she entered, her gaze landed on Sharon and she froze for a second before moving swiftly over to the woman to check her pulse. Brenda released the breath she was holding when her fingers found the steady beat under the soft skin of her neck. She slowly pulled her hand away as she took in the scene before her.
Sharon's glasses were still on, her blouse was unbuttoned, the fabric clinging to one shoulder, the other arm already free. Her skirt was still on and there was a nightgown laying next to her on the bed. It looked like she'd sat down on the edge of the bed to take her shoes off and then just…tipped over sideways, giving in to sleep.
Brenda reached over and gently slid Sharon's glasses off her face. She folded them carefully and set them on the nightstand on top of a book. She crouched down and removed Sharon's remaining shoe, placing the heels off to the side out of the way for the moment.
"Sharon?" she said again softly, putting a hand on her shoulder and shaking gently, trying to wake her up for what felt like the thousandth time this evening, but the older woman was completely out.
As frustrating as the brunette could be, Brenda was not about to leave her passed out on the edge of the bed half-dressed and twisted at such an awkward angle. She wasn't sure the Captain's normally ramrod straight spine could handle that much torque, she'd probably be at the chiropractor for weeks trying to work out the kinks if she left her like this.
Brenda slid the blouse off Sharon's remaining shoulder and down her arm, bending the arm slightly to free her wrist from the fabric. Then, she picked up toned legs for the second time in less than an hour, shifting the woman so she was laying fully on the bed and then gently rolled her onto her back.
Bending over and sliding an arm under Sharon's back, her hand angling up to support her head, Brenda lifted the woman's torso off the bed slightly and carefully pulled the expensive blouse out from under her sleeping form before easing her back down onto the bed.
Sharon's nightgown was right there and the blonde wanted to get it on her, get her covered again rather than leaving her so exposed, even in her own bedroom. But trying to dress an unconscious adult was cumbersome and awkward—especially when Brenda was standing in her coworker's bedroom and the unconscious adult was a half-naked Sharon Raydor.
She let out a heavy sigh. This would be so much easier if Sharon would just wake up for a minute, but that seemed out of the question at the moment. On the other hand, Brenda wanted to let the poor woman sleep, she was clearly beyond exhausted. She decided to just go for it and if Sharon woke up in the process, then she could help.
Brenda retrieved the nightgown and slipped it over the brunette's head, sending up a prayer of thanks that the garment had spaghetti straps and not long sleeves. She maneuvered one arm through the strap fairly easily, the other taking considerably more effort. Then, the blonde climbed onto the bed straddling the older woman's legs, backing up jerkily as she tried to tug the nightgown down over the miraculously still-sleeping woman.
Brenda climbed off the bed again, breathing heavily from the exertion. She left Sharon's bra on even though she knew sleeping in a bra wouldn't be as comfortable. Removing it just seemed too…intimate…and Sharon was still sound asleep.
As much as Brenda was curious about the Sharon behind the Captain's armor, she wondered at the number of times in recent months she had found herself in situations with the other woman that felt overly-personal and significantly beyond their general level of acquaintance. She shook her head, that was something she could think about later, right now she needed to focus on the task at hand.
She rolled Sharon's hip toward her with her left hand, reaching up under the back of the nightgown with her right to unzip her skirt. Mercifully, the zipper slid down smoothly with one firm tug. None of Brenda's own skirts would have unzipped so easily, she almost always needed both hands to wrestle with them. Once the zipper was undone, she lowered the older woman's hip back down to the bed. She grasped the bottom edge of her skirt, pulling it slowly out from under the nightgown and down her legs.
Not prepared to go through Sharon's closet looking for her dirty laundry, Brenda decided to drape the skirt on the chair in the corner along with the discarded blouse. Then, she collected the heels and tucked them underneath the chair so they wouldn't be a tripping hazard if Sharon got up in the night.
She turned back toward the bed and stopped for a moment, taking in Sharon's still-sleeping form. Her face looked peaceful, relaxed as she slept despite her exhaustion. Her skin glowed in the soft light, and Brenda was struck by how beautiful she looked.
She grabbed the blanket that had been folded over the back of the chair and returned to Sharon. Brenda draped it over her feet and legs, carefully pulling it up to cover her bare shoulders and tucking it under her chin. Gently, she lifted Sharon's head and slid a pillow underneath it before smoothing auburn hair back into place with her fingers, noticing it was softer than she'd expected.
She stepped back and, satisfied that Sharon was settled relatively comfortably, Brenda padded back out to the living room to find the woman's phone. In their line of work, it was always best to have the phone close by. She eyed the purse sitting on the entry table and tentatively reached a hand in, not wanting to rummage around too much and disturb whatever organizational system the Captain surely had in place.
Almost immediately, her hand made contact with the phone. She pulled it out and carried it back into the bedroom, checking the battery. Brenda was glad she'd thought of it because It had less than 20% remaining. She carried it back to Sharon's bedroom and plugged it into the charger she'd seen on the nightstand, setting it next to the book and glasses. She was debating whether to leave the bedside lamp on or turn it off when she heard the door.
Fumbling with the buttons, Brenda buzzed the delivery driver up and gratefully took the food, handing them a generous tip in exchange, not bothering to search for any smaller bills. She carried the food into the kitchen and began to unpack things, placing her dinner on the counter and the other two containers for Sharon in the refrigerator.
She went back to a drawer she'd opened earlier and grabbed a fork, about to eat out of the container and then stopped herself. Sharon seemed like the kind of person who ate off of actual plates. And she was in Sharon's house, so Brenda felt like she should do the same. She opened a few cupboards until she found the plates and served herself. She even sat at the dining table to eat it instead of standing in the kitchen or hunched over the container on the couch.
As she ate, Brenda reviewed the unexpected turn her evening had taken. She'd gotten the other woman home safely, which had been her goal. She'd gotten her settled, and had ordered food. She'd done more than enough and there was no reason she couldn't go home. The Captain was a perfectly capable, functional adult—under normal circumstances—but for some reason, Brenda felt compelled to stay.
Sharon had been so exhausted tonight, so helpless. Brenda still couldn't believe she'd slept through all the jostling of the clothing change, but the woman was dead to the world. Brenda told herself she just wanted to make sure Sharon was really ok, back to her normal, irritating self. Plus, Sharon's car was still at Parker Center and Brenda assumed the Captain would need to be back in the office first thing in the morning.
Brenda and her team had been ordered to take Friday off. They'd just closed their case earlier that evening, and after putting in so many hours earlier in the week, Pope didn't want them racking up any unnecessary overtime. It just made sense, Brenda reasoned, for her to stay here and give Sharon a ride in the morning. At least, it made more sense than her driving home tonight and then turning around and driving back in the morning through LA traffic. She didn't have anywhere to be tomorrow, so she could sleep all day if she wanted to after dropping the other woman off. And that way Sharon wouldn't have to worry about calling a cab—or someone else—at the crack of dawn to drive her in.
The decision made, Brenda finished the last bites of her dinner and stood up, draping her blazer over the back of a dining room chair. She cleared her plate and headed to the kitchen to wash and dry her dishes, putting everything back where she'd found it—she didn't want to leave a mess for Sharon to clean up later. Once everything was put away, Brenda grabbed her phone and made herself comfortable on the couch, settling in for the evening.
. . .
Sharon woke up and rolled over, squinting at the clock, 1:23am. The corner of her lip curled in a sleepy half-smile, she enjoyed number patterns like that. But the smile turned to a frown when she realized her bedside lamp was on and she was on top of her bed rather than in it. And she could feel the edge of her underwire bra digging into her side…what had happened?!
She got up to use the bathroom and decided to brush her teeth since that clearly hadn't happened before she'd fallen asleep either. As she was brushing her teeth, she remembered the Chief knocking on her window and offering to drive her home…helping her inside…Suddenly she froze, almost choking on her toothpaste. She quickly finished brushing and looked at herself in the mirror in her nightgown and bra.
Waves of confusion and embarrassment coursed through her as she tried to wrap her sleep-clouded mind around what had happened. She walked back into her bedroom and grabbed her glasses off the nightstand. The simple act of donning her glasses helped calm her as her vision came into sharper focus.
She stood there feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed in her own bedroom, her most private space. She ran a hand through her sleep-tousled hair, attempting to calm the panic threatening to rise in her chest. Breathing deeply, she brought her focus to the room around her, grounding herself in her observations to stop the mental spiral that was starting.
She saw her phone plugged in next to the bed, not quite where she usually set it, but almost fully charged. Her hand reached up to touch her glasses that had also been left on the nightstand. Turning, she noticed her clothes draped neatly over the chair in the corner, her shoes tucked underneath, out of the way. She was in her nightgown, yes, but also still in her bra and underwear, and she'd been covered up with a blanket, the light left on for her. There was a deliberateness to how things were left, a level of care that struck her now. And it felt…strange…confusing. She wasn't really sure what to make of it.
The Chief—Brenda—who was normally so self-absorbed, focused only on her own needs, had, in the span of less than 24 hours, shared her coffee with Sharon, offered her a ride home, helped her upstairs, and effectively tucked her into bed. She felt a wave of surprise and…gratitude. She remembered the gentle pressure of the other woman's hand on her arm yesterday morning, her hands on Sharon's legs helping her out of the car, their bodies pressed together as they walked toward the condo—she felt it all again now as she thought about it and a surge of warmth flowed through her. She recalled the concern that had flashed across the blonde's face more than once as she'd looked at Sharon and felt a pang of…something she couldn't identify. It was all mixing together into a confusing cocktail and it was too much for the brunette to process right now.
Her eyes refocused on the room and she continued scanning, taking stock of her surroundings. Her door was ajar and she noticed light coming from the living room. She headed down the hall to shut everything off, figuring she probably still needed to lock up anyway after Brenda's departure. But as she entered the room, her eyes landed on Brenda's slight form curled up on the couch, one arm hanging loosely over the edge, her cell phone laying on the floor below where she'd dropped it.
Sharon froze again. Why was the Chief still here? She had assumed the blonde had left after…putting her to bed…but there she was, asleep on Sharon's couch. She ran her hand through her hair again and sighed, perplexed. No sense in waking her now, they'd need to be up again in a few hours anyway. Sharon bent down and picked up the phone, setting it on the coffee table. She grabbed a throw blanket from the guest room and placed it gently over the sleeping Chief. Brenda stirred slightly and Sharon stood perfectly still, waiting, but the other woman only curled up more tightly, snuggling under the blanket before sinking back into sleep.
Sharon smiled to herself at the image and headed to the kitchen to turn off the light. She noticed a takeout bag tucked on the corner of the counter next to the refrigerator. She opened the fridge and found several new containers inside. She shook her head slightly and closed the door again, turning off the light. She checked the front door, happy to find that Brenda had already locked up, and then headed back to her bedroom turning off the living room lamp as she passed.
She removed her bra, slinging it over the chair with the rest of her discarded clothes and climbed into bed—under the covers this time. She lay there in the darkness, not sure for how long. Her mind tried to work itself up about Brenda undressing her and spending the night on her couch, but she was too exhausted. Soon her body overrode her mind and she slipped back into sleep for a few more hours before her alarm went off.
. . .
Sharon was roused from sleep by the sound of her alarm. She rolled over and turned it off as she sat up and reached for her glasses. Then she remembered Brenda, wondering if she was still there or if she'd woken up and left already, not really sure which she would prefer. Sharon washed her face, trying to wake herself up more fully and then padded down the hall, heading toward the kitchen to start the coffee before getting ready for work.
When she glanced toward the couch, she saw a lump of blanket with a halo of familiar blonde waves sticking out one end. Brenda has the blanket pulled up over her face to block out all traces of morning light. Sharon chuckled at that, knowing how cranky the Chief could be first thing in the morning. She continued her path to the kitchen and set about making coffee. Once that was started, she headed back to her bedroom to get ready for the day.
Two of her cases would hit their 72-hour deadlines today, one this afternoon, one later in the evening, but Sharon was confident she'd be able to wrap both of them up by midday. She'd gotten almost everything done the day before, although given how tired she was, she made a mental note to review the final reports extra carefully before submitting.
She checked her phone: no missed calls, but she had a text from Sergeant Staples letting her know he was feeling much better and was planning to be back in the office today. Sharon was still quite tired, but things seemed much more manageable today after her almost-full night of sleep. With the sergeant's return and no new cases, they might actually be able to get a handle on things in time to salvage at least part of the upcoming weekend. She briefly closed her eyes, sending up a silent prayer of gratitude for small miracles.
Brenda was awake when Sharon re-emerged from her bedroom fully washed and dressed, the scent of freshly-brewed coffee having roused her from her couch cocoon. The blonde's appearance stood in stark contrast to Sharon's own. Her clothes were wrinkled, her hair was a tangled mess, and yesterday's makeup had migrated down her face to gather under her eyes, smeared slightly at the corners.
The younger woman was leaning against the kitchen counter, a mug of coffee cradled in both hands. She looked up at Sharon's approach and said, "Good morning." Brenda wasn't quite sure whether to call her 'Captain' or 'Sharon' this morning, so she decided to stop there.
Sharon's step faltered briefly before she recovered. "Good morning," she replied softly, flashing an awkward half-smile before turning away to grab a mug of her own from the cupboard.
Silence descended on the kitchen, broken only by the sounds of Sharon pouring her coffee. Brenda watched her as she opened and closed the refrigerator, then moved to one of the cupboards trying to figure out what to have for breakfast. Her movements were stiff and she kept her back to Brenda the entire time. "How are you—"
"I'm sorry, I don't-–" They both spoke at the same time. Then silence again.
Sharon turned to face the other woman now. Both gesturing for the other to go first. Why was this so awkward?
Brenda took a sip of her coffee and started again, "You feeling better this morning?"
"Oh…," Sharon cleared her throat and turned back to the open cupboard, unable to meet the blonde's gaze, "…um…yes, thank you." Spinning back around stiffly to face Brenda again, she continued, "I'm sorry, I don't seem to have much for breakfast, it's been a…rough week…" There was another pause and then she continued, "I could make some oatmeal. And it looks like I have a little fruit left." They were statements, but they hung in the air like a question.
Sharon sounded oddly unsure of herself, and Brenda noticed the distinct lack of names or titles in the other woman's speech this morning, too. She also noticed the change of subject, which was one of Sharon's tells. The brunette was definitely uncomfortable this morning. Was it because Brenda was still there?
As she thought back to the previous night, it dawned on Brenda the other woman had been so out of it, drifting in and out of consciousness, that she probably had some serious gaps in her memory. That would be enough to set the carefully-controlled Captain on edge—especially waking up dressed in something she didn't remember putting on. Brenda felt a sudden pang of guilt and wondered whether she'd made the right decision.
Realizing she'd been silent too long and Sharon was waiting for an answer, she responded, "That sounds lovely, thank you. Much better than the cold takeout I'd been considering." Brenda smiled softly, trying to put the other woman at ease. She really would have been fine with eating takeout for breakfast—she did it more often than she'd like to admit—but having Sharon prepare something for her, for them, sounded infinitely better.
Sharon nodded, her body relaxing slightly with relief, and shifted her focus to preparing their breakfast.
Brenda paused, taking another sip of her coffee before she picked up the conversation again. "Rough week, huh?" She asked, her tone casual, using Sharon's own words, the opening she'd provided, to redirect the conversation. She was careful to keep her eyes focused on her coffee. The other woman always seemed to know when Brenda was looking at her.
Sharon's whole body tensed for a moment, before she hummed affirmatively and resumed moving around the kitchen. Brenda waited, letting the silence stretch. She was rewarded for her patience when Sharon's voice broke the silence a full minute later, "We were…graced with an overabundance of use-of-force investigations at the same time that a particularly virulent stomach bug swept through my team…" she explained, "The timing has been…unfortunate…"
Brenda stifled a chuckle and the understatement. So that's why Sharon hadn't been working Julio's case, she was already covering for other members of her team.
"Even fully-staffed," Sharon continued, "it would have been a heavy caseload, so it has been…difficult…for the two of us remaining to familiarize ourselves with all the cases, conduct the necessary interviews, and conclude all the open investigations within the required 72-hour windows." She sighed heavily and started moving items over to the dining table. Breakfast was almost ready.
Brenda wanted to help, but she was trying to stay out of Sharon's way, to give her space. She didn't want to stop the flow of conversation now that the other woman was actually talking. Instead, she walked over to the coffee pot. Her back was to Sharon and she made sure to keep her voice low, soft, "that doesn't leave much time for sleeping, does it? No wonder you couldn't keep your eyes open last night..."
Brenda turned and held the coffee pot out toward Sharon's mug, her eyebrows raised in question as she made eye contact with the other woman, searching her face for reactions to both her words and the offered beverage. Sharon nodded and handed Brenda her mug, grateful for the momentary distraction.
Their fingers brushed as Brenda handed the mug back and she heard the brunette's sharp intake of breath, watched as her arm jerked slightly, a little coffee sloshing over the side of the mug onto the floor. Sharon quickly wiped it up and then made her way over to the dining table, setting the mug down on a coaster at her place and grabbing a second coaster from the stack for Brenda.
It was clear that Sharon was uncomfortable about what happened last night and Brenda knew she was pushing, but they needed to talk about it and clear the air. The strain of not talking about it was starting to make Brenda feel agitated and the last thing she wanted was to end up unintentionally snapping at the other woman who was already distressed. It was either now or on the drive to Parker Center and she really didn't want to try and navigate this conversation while maneuvering a vehicle through rush hour traffic.
Silently, Sharon moved back to the kitchen to retrieve their oatmeal and returned to the table, motioning for Brenda to sit. They both took their seats and the blonde picked up the conversation again, her eyes firmly on her breakfast. "You said you were going to change last night, but then you never came back out of your room. It was so quiet, after a while I went to check on you." Brenda started spooning sugar into her bowl, and Sharon followed the spoon's path with her eyes as she listened.
Brenda went on, "I knocked on the door and called your name, but you didn't answer. When I peeked in, you were sound asleep." Brenda paused, waiting to see if Sharon would interrupt her or try to change the subject, but the other woman sat frozen in place, not saying a word. Brenda continued, still not making eye contact, "It looked like you sat down on the edge of the bed in the…uh…in the middle of undressing and then just sort of…fell over..."
Oh God. No, no, no. Sharon rubbed nervously at the back of her neck now, trying to distract herself from the blush that was creeping up her chest and the uncomfortable feeling settling in the pit of her stomach at Brenda's words. She'd feared something like this had happened, but she'd been hoping somehow she was wrong and had just been too tired to remember putting herself to bed last night. She kept her eyes focused on the spoon as it moved back and forth from the sugar bowl to Brenda's oatmeal.
"I called your name and shook your shoulder to try and wake you up, I really did, Sharon, but you were completely out. Your nightgown was right next to you on the bed and you looked so uncomfortable the way you were slumped over, I just couldn't leave you like that." The words tumbled out of Brenda's mouth in a rush, her tone almost pleading as she tried to explain. Sharon could hear the uncertainty in Brenda's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to look up at the other woman, it was too much right now.
Brenda took a breath. The spoon stopped its back-and-forth motion now and began stirring the mountain of sugar into her oatmeal. "I got you fully onto the bed and put your nightgown on so you were covered up. It took a little doing—I still can't believe you didn't wake up with all the jostling," she said, shaking her head in disbelief, the corner of her mouth twitching with the hint of a smile.
At that, Sharon covered her now bright red face with both hands and groaned in embarrassment, wishing the ground would swallow her up. The sound seemed to release some of the tension she'd been holding, and she finally reached for her own spoon. As much as she wanted to, there was no way to go back and change things now. A colleague—her superior officer—had come across her, half-naked and passed out in her bedroom, and had helped change her into her nightgown. She was mortified. But what could she do? What was done, was done. She would just have to try and not think about it every time she saw the other woman from here on out. Compartmentalization, she was good at that.
"And I don't know where you get your skirts," the blonde continued, "but it must be somewhere extra fancy because I swear I've never in my life had a piece of clothing unzip as easily as your skirt did last night." Brenda had meant it sincerely, but her comment was met with an odd choked snort and a brief fit of coughing as Sharon tried to clear a piece of fruit from her windpipe.
When the coughing subsided, Brenda continued, "I'd already ordered some food when I thought you were still coming back out, so I stayed until that arrived. I got you—well, two things, actually—even though you said you didn't want anything. So you should be covered for dinner tonight, or whatever. And while I was eating, I realized you'd need a ride to work this morning, so I just figured I'd stay instead of driving all the way home and then turning around and driving all the way back over here this morning."
Sharon opened her mouth to say something, but Brenda pressed on, "We closed our case yesterday evening and Chief Pope informed us we had the day off today to keep us out of overtime—probably because he was already paying through the nose for all the extra hours you've been racking up—so here I am," she gestured to her rumpled self, a bit of oatmeal clinging to her spoon threatening to drop. "It just seemed to make sense," she added with a shrug.
Brenda stopped there, running a hand through her messy curls and taking a bite of sugary oatmeal as she regarded the other woman. Green eyes met brown for the first time since they sat down at the table, the blonde's explanation slowly sinking in, settling into the gaps in Sharon's memory.
A faint smile spread slowly across Sharon's face as she took in Brenda's disheveled appearance once more. It broadened, reaching all the way to her eyes as she recalled the younger woman's comments about the overtime and her skirt. There was still embarrassment, yes, but somehow in the course of recounting what happened, Brenda had managed to disarm her. The uneasiness, the anxiety, from just a few moments ago were replaced with reassurance. She wondered at the way the tension dissipated, melting into a gentle warmth that spread through her body from head to toe.
She opened her mouth again and said, "Thank you, Brenda." It was soft, sincere, the words laden with an intensity of emotion the blonde wasn't expecting.
Brenda held her gaze, studying her eyes. They were surprisingly clear and open now, unguarded. She could see the embarrassment, the woman's discomfort at the literal and figurative exposure swirling in their depths. She saw gratitude and curiosity, and…something else she couldn't name looking back at her. Sharon's green eyes glistened and then the brunette abruptly broke their contact, blinking back moisture as she returned her focus to her breakfast.
Brenda wondered suddenly who in Sharon's life took care of her, what her friends were like—if she even had friends. Whether she had someone—anyone…She always seemed to be taking care of everyone else, but who took care of her? Certainly not her husband—or whatever they were now…
"You could have slept in the guest room, you know," Sharon said as she glanced over toward the couch, shaking her head slightly.
"I didn't know there was a guest room," Brenda shrugged.
"Well, now you do," the older woman stated with finality.
She took a bite of her oatmeal, then another, and then broke the silence again. "I can't believe I slept through all that…" Her cheeks flushed slightly, but her tone was lighter, conversational. "Then again," she continued, "I can't remember the last time I was so completely exhausted. Maybe when my children were newborns…" She paused, taking a sip of her coffee, "...maybe I'm getting too old for this…"
Brenda scoffed at that, shaking her head, unconvinced, "Or maybe it's just been an exceptionally shitty week," she tossed back, popping a piece of fruit into her mouth.
Sharon chuckled and nodded her head in agreement, "it has been an exceptionally shitty week…"
Her tone changed as she shifted her thoughts to the day ahead of her, "Sergeant Staples will be back in the office today, so that should take a little pressure off. Barring any new incidents, we should be able to wrap things up with our remaining open investigations today and tomorrow. If our fellow officers can just manage to stay on their best behavior for a few days, we might be able to enjoy at least a little of the weekend…"
Looking at her watch, Sharon took one more bite of breakfast before standing up and moving back into the kitchen. It was time to get going. Brenda followed her and they quickly got everything washed up and put away. Sharon poured her coffee into a travel mug while Brenda slid her blazer back on, grabbing her purse and phone and heading toward the door where she'd left her shoes.
The ride to the office was largely silent until Sergeant Staples called. Sharon began updating him on what she could with Brenda sitting next to her, stopping every so often to give the blonde directions. There was a pause, and then Brenda heard the brunette say, "Oh…no, I left it there last night. I was too tired to drive home and a friend was kind enough to offer," as she looked out the passenger window, checking their blind spot before motioning to Brenda that she was clear to change lanes.
Brenda's eyes widened, but she somehow managed to keep from jerking the steering wheel in surprise. Friend?! Did she really just hear Sharon Raydor casually refer to her as her friend while talking with her sergeant? Her whole body coursed with a surge of…something. It was probably just the shock of hearing her say the word…Were they friends now? The surge diffused into a pleasant warmth, and she felt strangely elated, proud of having accomplished something she hadn't even realized she'd wanted. She flipped on her blinker and focused on changing lanes as Sharon had directed.
"I'm glad you're feeling better, Staples," Sharon added, "and your family too. It's been a bit of a week with everyone out." Brenda could hear the sound of laughter on the other end of the phone. So she wasn't the only one entertained by the woman's tendency toward understatement. "I'll be there shortly," she said in closing, ending the call.
Brenda dropped her off, wishing her a good day and genuinely hoping the woman and her partial team would be able to get things wrapped up soon. The passenger door closed and she replayed what Sharon had said, both the heartfelt 'Thank you' from earlier and '...a friend was kind enough to offer,' ringing in her ears. She'd said that last part so nonchalantly, and it felt natural, nice. She resolved to text the woman later, or maybe tomorrow, to see how things were going—that was the sort of thing friends did, right? She put the car in drive and headed for home, her whole body still buzzing as she thought about her friend, Sharon.