A/N: Behold, the next chapter! This one kind of exploded on me. I don't know how it happened...Every time I sat down to finish it, it got longer and longer. I thought about splitting it up, but ultimately decided to leave it all together, hence the delay in posting. It could probably use another round of editing, but it's taken so long already, I just wanted to get it posted. So, here it is!
The two women had texted some during the week, and it seemed to be going significantly better than their earlier venture into that particular mode of communication. They had even managed a mid-week working lunch.
Sharon had garnered a few looks as she'd waltzed through the murder room to Brenda's office with food and a stack of files, but no one had said anything. The corner of her mouth twitched with the slightest smirk when her peripheral vision registered Lt. Provenza hastily tucking his precious crossword puzzle under a file on his desk as she passed by.
When the door to the Chief's office closed, followed by the blinds, everyone seemed to hold their breath, bracing themselves for raised voices or for one of the women to storm out of the room, but they seemed to relax once they realized there wouldn't be a show. As far as they knew, there was no active FID investigation involved with their case, and they had seen a takeout bag in the Captain's hand, so they assumed the woman was trying to butter the Chief up for some reason. With nothing more to go on, they soon lost interest and the discussion shifted to Flynn & Provenza's weekend plans.
. . .
Saturday arrived quietly and uneventfully, something for which both women were incredibly grateful. On the way to Sharon's, Brenda had stopped at what she was starting to think of as their coffee shop to pick up beverages and croissants. She figured it was the least she could do since Sharon was driving.
Much to the older woman's surprise, Brenda somehow managed to arrive early. She buzzed her into the building and finished gathering her things while the blonde made her way upstairs. Sharon barely suppressed a chuckle as the younger woman entered the condo juggling two coffees, breakfast, and her giant monstrosity of a purse. But Brenda managed, rather impressively, to slip out of her shoes and make it to the kitchen without dropping or spilling anything, beaming at her friend.
The blonde set everything down on the breakfast bar and was startled when she was greeted with a hug, her smile faltering momentarily. It was just a brief squeeze and then Sharon was right back where she had been. The younger woman was left wondering if it had really even happened, but the lingering warmth Brenda felt where the older woman's form had pressed against her provided proof that she hadn't imagined it. Who knew Sharon Raydor was a hugger?!
Brenda turned then and removed Sharon's coffee from the carrier, offering it up to her with a smile. Sharon's hand glided over the younger woman's fingers, seemingly without noticing, as she gently took the cup from her grasp. But Brenda noticed. She also noticed a tingling heat that originated from somewhere between the cup and Sharon's hand traveling up her arm and mixing in her chest with the residual warmth from the surprise hug.
She relinquished her hold on the other woman's beverage and focused her attention on taking a sip of her own, internally shaking her head at her overreaction. Had it really been so long since she'd had any type of physical contact that even the slightest touch from another human being caused such a visceral response? She should probably schedule herself a massage or something—didn't she still have a gift certificate somewhere that Fritz had gotten her? Fritz...Yes, it really had been a while…
The two women took a few minutes to eat before heading out since Sharon hadn't wanted to end up with fragments of flaky croissant littering the interior of her otherwise pristine vehicle. The drive to Woodland Hills was a pleasant one. The coffee fueled their conversation, which flowed easily, punctuated every so often by commentary about the other drivers around them. Before they knew it, an hour had passed and they found themselves walking into the classy yet unassuming shop.
The woman behind the counter looked up as they entered, a bright smile spreading across her face when her eyes landed on Sharon. "Well this is certainly a surprise!" she exclaimed as she stepped out from behind the counter, quickly closing the distance between them.
Brenda was not a big fan of salespeople, especially in clothing stores, given the number of less-than-positive experiences she'd had with their judgemental looks and commentary. She hung back slightly, letting Sharon go first while she gave the other woman a once over. She was tall, medium build, athletic, but curvy. She appeared to be around Brenda's age, with dark, almost jet black hair styled in a sleek pixie cut. Not a hair was out of place, Brenda noted, and her clothing and make-up were impeccable. She wanted to dislike the woman, but everything about her was polished, professional and not one bit overdone—things that reminded her of Sharon.
"Hi Elaine!" Sharon greeted her with a broad smile as she approached the two women, "I didn't expect to be back so soon. This is my friend, Brenda," she said, gesturing toward the blonde, "She's the reason we're here today."
"Nice to meet you, Brenda," she said with a smile, "Any friend of Sharon's is a friend of mine," she reached out to shake the blonde's hand, placing her other hand on top and squeezing gently for emphasis. Then she stepped back, clapping her hands together once, and said, "Now, what are you looking for today?"
Sharon explained why they were there and then she and Elaine started walking around picking out some options for the blonde. "So, is she the one who was holding your favorite skirt hostage?" Elaine asked with a grin as she glanced in Brenda's direction. Brenda's eyes widened, but before she could open her mouth to say anything, Sharon responded, rolling her eyes.
"Oh Elaine, don't be so dramatic. She wasn't holding it hostage. I just didn't know how long it might take to get it back when I loaned it to her—our work schedules can be rather…unpredictable—so I decided to get another one to have available in the meantime. I don't know how I only had one of them to begin with. It really is my favorite…"
"So, you two work together?" Elaine asked as she continued pulling skirts, holding one up and looking over at Brenda before returning it to the rack and moving on.
"We both work for the LAPD, but in different divisions," Brenda answered, smiling politely, still not quite sure what to make of the other woman.
"Ok, I think this is probably a good place to start," Elaine said, handing the selection of skirts off to Sharon. She sent both women in the direction of the fitting rooms and then excused herself.
Brenda took the skirts from Sharon and headed past her and into an open stall. Sharon heard the sound of hangers hitting metal and the thud of a mammoth purse dropping somewhere inside. There was a significant amount of rustling, followed by a big sigh, and then total silence.
Sharon cleared her throat, "Brenda, are you ok in there?"
"Sharon, I don't know about this…" came the blonde's hesitant reply.
"Why? What's wrong?" Sharon asked, frowning. When Brenda didn't answer, she added, "Let me see."
There was another moment of silence and then the sound of the latch opening. The blonde stepped out of the stall and Sharon led her over to the area with more mirrors grabbing her gently by the arms and turning her side to side so they could both get a better look.
"I feel like a sausage in a casing," Brenda whined.
"Let me see," Sharon said again, lifting up the edges of Brenda's shirt and indicating she should hold them up so the brunette could see the whole skirt. Standing behind her, her left hand on the blonde's left hip, Sharon slipped two fingers of her right hand just under the top of the skirt's waistband & slowly traced a path around the back to the other hip. Her motions elicited a sharp intake of breath from the younger woman. Brenda hadn't expected the contact, and the other woman's cool hands on the sensitive skin of her waist lit up every nerve ending in her body, causing her muscles to tense and a tingling heat to spread through her.
Sharon didn't seem to notice. She was too focused on examining the fit of the skirt. Continuing her inspection, Sharon pulled her fingers out of the waistband and rested her hands momentarily on the younger woman's hips before squatting down, running her hands down the sides of the skirt to the bottom as she did so. She pulled lightly at the bottom edges and then shifted to examine the slit at the back. Her hand grasped the seam of the slit and moved down along one side, her fingertips ghosting over the inside of Brenda's leg in the process. The blonde's leg jerked reflexively in surprise, momentarily pulling away from Sharon's hand before she was able to recover and steady herself.
Sharon noticed the younger woman's reaction this time and withdrew her hand saying, "Oh, sorry, are my hands cold?" still seemingly unaware of how intimately she'd just been caressing Brenda's body.
She stood up and stepped back, crossing her arms. Her eyes narrowing appraisingly as she said, "The length seems a little…off on this one. It's hitting in a weird place." She paused briefly, "and it might be a little too form-fitting…" she conceded.
Sharon shuttled her back into the stall and gestured for her to try the next one. Brenda took a few deep breaths to calm herself before tugging off the tight skirt and trying on the next one. She zipped it up and let out another frustrated huff.
"Brenda, I can hear you huffing all the way out here…"
"I just don't think this is gonna work," Brenda grumbled, her excitement about the shopping excursion rapidly fading.
Not believing the younger woman in the slightest, Sharon said, "Ok, come show me."
The brunette watched as the blonde stepped out in another black skirt and walked back over to the mirror area. It looked great on her. "What's wrong with this one?" she asked, curious what the younger woman had found issue with.
"How am I supposed to—" she interrupted herself to let out another huff before starting again, "There's no way I can bend over dead bodies in this!" she exclaimed with a pout, her arms gesturing widely in frustration. "I'd fall right over onto them and contaminate the scene if I could even bend at all! I'd probably rip a seam! I mean, seriously Sharon, how do you even move in these things?! I don't have these issues with my flowy skirts, they give me plenty of room to maneuver," she concluded, crossing her arms with a pout as she turned to face the other woman fully.
Sharon rolled her eyes at the younger woman's dramatic outburst. She was pretty sure Brenda's comment about dead bodies was loud enough to be heard all the way down the block. At least Elaine knew they were police officers…
"Come here," said Sharon, chuckling. Once again she ran her hands over the blonde's body, checking the fit of the skirt. This time Brenda was prepared for the contact and just watched with some fascination as the other woman completed her assessment of the garment
Sharon noted this one was shorter than the previous option, had a little more give in the waist and sides, and a slightly higher slit up the back. Yes, she thought, this one would do quite nicely.
"Brenda, this one fits you perfectly," she countered, "You have plenty of room to maneuver. You just—" Sharon took a step back from the blonde and then squatted down smoothly with her knees together before standing back up. As she rose, her eyes traveled up the blonde past her crossed arms and registered the skeptical look on her face.
Of course Sharon made it look easy. Not ready to give in yet, Brenda took a moment to let her eyes move up and down the brunette's form before staring pointedly at Sharon's jean-clad legs.
"Easy for you to say, Miss Jeans-and-flats," she snarked, meeting the older woman's eyes, her chin jutting forward slightly as if to emphasize her point.
Shaking her head and sighing, Sharon walked back out and quickly grabbed a skirt off the rack. It was one she had at home already, so she knew it would do. Then, she headed straight into Brenda's fitting room and quickly slipped out of her jeans and into the skirt while Brenda stood waiting out by the mirrors.
The older woman returned almost immediately, asking, "What size shoes do you wear?"
Brenda looked at her, confused, before replying, "Seven and a half."
"Ok, Give me your shoes," she demanded, holding out her hand. "I usually wear an 8, but let's try this."
Sharon took the proffered shoes and stepped back, squeezing into the kitten heels. They were tight, pinching her toes uncomfortably and digging into the backs of her heels, but she didn't need to wear them for long to make her point.
She looked the blonde in the eye, holding her gaze as she deftly squatted down again, knees together. Then, she turned slightly and pretended to examine something on the ground next to her—presumably an imaginary body—leaning slightly this way and that, before pointedly meeting Brenda's gaze again, and slowly standing back up in one fluid motion, her hands moving from her knees up the front of her thighs to land on her hips as she did so. "See? Plenty of room to maneuver," she shot back, a satisfied smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
They both stood there for a moment, eyes locked, unmoving. There was a knock on the door frame to the fitting room area and Elaine poked her head in, "Hey, how's everything going in here, you two?"
Both women jumped slightly at the unexpected interruption, stepping back from one another and turning to face the other woman. Elaine took in the sight of Sharon in a pencil skirt, tag sticking out, her shirt partially tucked in, partially rumpled up over one hip, with too small kitten heels on her feet. Her eyes widened in surprise and then shifted briefly to look at the barefoot blonde before she turned and addressed the older woman, "Sharon, I thought you weren't shopping for skirts today…don't you already have several of those?"
"Oh, I'm not. We were just discussing maneuverability. Brenda doesn't exactly have a desk job," she explained. "She was a little…skeptical, so I was just showing her how well this one works for me." Sharon smiled, shooting a look back in Brenda's direction before returning her focus to Elaine. "We're doing fine for the moment, thank you, Elaine," she said reassuringly. The other woman nodded, returning her smile, and tapped the door frame twice before disappearing back into the shop.
Sharon turned back to the younger woman, "Really, Brenda, I wouldn't have expected you of all people to allow yourself to be bested so easily by a skirt." She didn't even try to hide the smirk that returned to her lips.
Brenda glared at her and sighed, "Ok, fine, let me try," she said, holding her hands out for her shoes. But Sharon gestured for her to try once barefoot and she did her best to mimic Sharon's movements.
"See, no seam splitting. There you go," she continued encouragingly, making sure there was no trace of teasing or condescension in her voice. Sharon knew the blonde would need to feel comfortable and confident in the garment or she'd never buy it. She tugged the too-small shoes off her feet and handed them back to the younger woman, trying not to grimace as she wiggled her toes to regain circulation.
Brenda easily slipped her shoes back on and then squatted again. She was a bit more wobbly in the heels than she had been barefoot, but she made it work. She kept her eyes on the ground rather than on Sharon's so she could maintain her balance as she stood. Then she took a few steps around Sharon as though she were stepping over evidence markers and then tried squatting again, still not looking at Sharon, focusing on the feel of the skirt, trying to imagine herself at a crime scene wearing it.
The motion was much more smooth as she rose this time. A quick study, she mimicked Sharon's earlier motion, using her hands to push off her knees, letting them trace her thighs and slide up, landing on her hips. She noticed Sharon's eyes follow the movement of her hands before snapping up to meet her gaze as though she'd been caught. The older woman quickly looked away and ran her hand through her hair, clearing her throat.
Brenda felt the familiar warm feeling spreading through her again and turned to the mirrors, hoping the warmth wouldn't reach her cheeks. She twisted from side to side, taking another look at herself. "On second thought," she said, smiling to herself, "this one might work after all."
Sharon shifted behind her, meeting her brown eyes in the mirror. "It fits you perfectly," she said, repeating her earlier statement before adding more quietly, "and it really does look very good on you, Brenda."
Brenda beamed as she headed back into the dressing room. "You know…" she paused, popping back out and giving Sharon a mischievous look, "if I'm trying on things that are outside my comfort zone, it only seems fair that you should do the same…"
The older woman opened her mouth to protest, but the blonde continued, "You can't say you're not trying anything on today," she said, looking pointedly at the other woman's bare feet and skirt-clad frame, tag still sticking out the side. "And you're not getting these back," she held up the brunette's jeans, swinging them back and forth teasingly, "until you try on at least a couple things."
Shooting a glare at the younger woman, Sharon crossed her arms, her lips pressed tightly together.
"Come on, Sharon, humor me? I've still got more to try on here. And besides, it'll be fun."
The older woman raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't budge. "Pretty please?" Brenda begged, her tone so saccharine that Sharon thought she might get a toothache just from hearing it, and her big doe eyes looking out from under long lashes that the blonde batted excessively for emphasis. She was laying it on thick.
"Fine," Sharon caved, shaking her head and chuckling at Brenda's ridiculous, over-the-top plea. "I'll try on a couple things. I'm not sure what other choice I have since you're holding my pants hostage…"
Brenda smiled triumphantly, tossing Sharon's jeans on top of the pile she'd managed to create on the bench in her stall. She walked over to Sharon, grabbing her hand and practically dragging her back out into the shop.
Elaine had just finished ringing up a sale when they emerged. As the front door closed, she made her way over to the two women. "How are you ladies doing? Can I help you with anything?"
Sharon opened her mouth to politely decline, not wanting to draw more attention to the blonde's endeavor than necessary, but Brenda beat her to the punch.
"Why yes, that would be wonderful, Elaine, thank you," she said with a wide smile. "As you know, Sharon already has plenty of pencil skirts. We're looking for something a little more dressy, for her." Elaine nodded, moving toward a selection of modest black dresses she knew would be right up Sharon's alley.
Brenda followed her trajectory, noticing that the dresses all looked like things Sharon already had, things that were conservative enough to wear to work with a blazer. Those wouldn't do at all…
"Um, we're looking for something she wouldn't normally wear," the blonde clarified, shooting a glance in Sharon's direction, "something out of her usual comfort zone." Elaine stopped and stood still for a moment, considering the new information.
"...something that's decidedly not work-appropriate," she added, just to make sure the other woman understood. Elaine's eyebrows shot up and she turned to Sharon for confirmation, just catching the flash of surprise that flickered across the brunette's face before she could school her features.
"Ah, I see," Elaine said, a grin slowly spreading across her face as she turned her attention back to Brenda, tilting her head slightly to regard her more closely. She didn't know much about the younger woman—just that she was a friend of Sharon's from work who apparently bent over a lot of dead bodies—but she was intrigued.
Sharon had a great body and Elaine had been trying for years to get the woman to show it off more, but Sharon always opted for more conservative, professional attire. This was a very unexpected turn of events, indeed, and Elaine intended to make the most of it—especially now that she had an ally in the form of the petite blonde.
"You know," she leaned over to Brenda conspiratorially, but made no effort to lower her voice, "I've been trying to get her to try on something other than business suits forever and she always says no. You, my dear, are my new favorite person."
Brenda couldn't help but return Elaine's broad smile, and the two of them set about selecting some dresses for Sharon to try on.
Elaine headed over to a corner of the shop they'd passed on the way in and started searching for sizes, pulling a few items and handing them to the eager blonde. She glanced over at Sharon, expecting the woman to change her mind and put a stop to things based on the discomfort that could be seen rippling across her face, but the brunette seemed determined to proceed. She handed a final dress over to Brenda, who turned and almost walked into Sharon.
The older woman's feet seemed glued to the floor, but the blonde managed to dislodge her and herd her back through the shop to the fitting rooms. When they entered, Brenda breezed past her and hung the dresses in the stall next to hers, stepping aside and giving Sharon a look, silently commanding her to step inside.
Sharon sighed, uncrossing her arms and walked in, closing the door behind her. Brenda lingered outside the door for a minute, wanting to make sure the brunette really was going to try things on and not just carry them all back out into the shop as soon as the blonde wasn't looking.
A few minutes later, Brenda heard an, "Oh, gosh…No," from the other side of the door.
"What's the matter, Sharon?" she asked.
"This one doesn't fit right," the older woman replied without opening the door.
"Let me see," Brenda wasn't sure whether it really didn't fit or if Sharon was just uncomfortable.
"Brenda, it doesn't fi—"
"Come on, Sharon, I showed you my sausage casing skirt," the blonde pleaded.
The door opened slightly and Brenda peeked her head in to see what the issue was. It was a form-fitting ruched dress that had potential until Brenda's eyes landed on a big fat seam running right across the other woman's breasts. It was clearly supposed to hit under the bustline, but no amount of repositioning could make it fit properly with Sharon's cleavage.
"Oh my, that's…No, you're right," Brenda agreed, "It doesn't fit. Let's see the next one."
Sharon turned and pushed the younger woman out of the stall. "Don't you have more skirts to try on?" she asked, trying to shift the focus back to Brenda and the real reason they came to the shop today.
"I'm putting one on right now," Brenda shot back. "You should try that black one next."
When they were both ready, they met out in the mirror area. Brenda was in a navy skirt this time with a slightly higher waist, but it fit well and passed the squat test, which she performed several times just to make sure. Sharon stood back and made no attempts to more closely examine the fit of this one, too preoccupied with her own outfit.
The brunette was wearing a high-neck black dress that hit just below the knee. It would have been boring except for the large triangular cutout across the chest. It was classy, and would have looked quite nice with an up-do, but it was still too conservative for what Brenda had in mind.
They both went back to try on the next options. Brenda's skirt didn't fit as well this time, puckering along the hips in odd places, but she left it on to show Sharon. Fair was fair. The older woman joined her by the mirrors, frowning slightly at the blonde's skirt. She tried tugging on it to get it to lay flat, but it just wasn't a good fit.
That settled, they shifted their focus to Sharon, who was wearing a black & white patterned dress that hit right at the knee. It had 3/4 sleeves and a plunging neckline that revealed more than just a glimpse of Sharon's very red bra. Brenda cleared her throat and tried to hide her surprise as she forced herself to look at Sharon's eyes instead. The dress definitely fit her well, but the sleeves and hemline made it seem too…ordinary.
So, back they went. Brenda slipped into her last skirt, a gray and black wide weave that had a vaguely vintage feel to it. She loved it as soon as it was on, immediately going out to take a look in the mirrors and give it the squat test. She smiled to herself, noticing she was already much better at the maneuver.
When Sharon didn't join her, she called out to the older woman, "Sharon, is everything ok in there? Come on out here and see this last skirt."
"Um, yes…ok…" came the hesitant reply. Brenda could hear the discomfort in Sharon's voice, but then the door opened and Sharon slowly padded out to join her.
Brenda's gaze traveled from bare feet upward as the older woman approached. A quiet, "Wow, Sharon…" escaped her lips and she forgot all about her skirt. Sharon was wearing an opaque lace dress in a shade of green that made her eyes pop. It had a high, scalloped neckline and a matching hemline that revealed a considerable portion of the woman's toned thighs.
Brenda watched as the brunette ran her hands self-consciously through her hair and then pulled it all over one shoulder, turning to get a better look at the back of the dress in the big mirror. What was a high boatneck in the front turned into a wide v in the back coming to a point just above her bra line. It fit her like a glove.
Both women were staring at Sharon's reflection in the mirror when the silence was broken by Elaine's return. "Alright you two, how are things going in he—wow, Sharon…" the woman broke off as she rounded the corner and her eyes landed on the brunette.
"That's what I said," Brenda replied, tearing her eyes away from Sharon's reflection to smile at Elaine.
Sharon turned to the two women and said, "I don't know, it's a little…" drifting off as she tugged self-consciously at the hemline.
"Oh stop, you have amazing legs. There's no reason not to show them off a little," Elaine replied with a cheeky grin.
"Show them off?!" Sharon asked incredulously, her voice rising an octave, "I don't think I could sit down in this without showing the entire room the color of my underwear!" Sharon shot back, her cheeks turning red with embarrassment.
"I don't know, Sharon, you've still got a few inches there, why don't you give it the squat test. It's been working out great for me today," Brenda suggested, her lip twitching into a smirk. The brunette shot her a dirty look.
"Oh come on, I'll do it, too. I'm getting pretty good at it," Brenda added with a smile, "Elaine can watch as an objective third party and tell us if we're flashing anyone."
"Elaine is hardly objective," Sharon snarked, shooting a withering look at the gleeful woman before giving in.
Both women squatted down and stood up a couple times while Elaine looked on. While Sharon's dress did ride up higher in the process, she proved to be quite skilled at the maneuver and no one was flashed.
Sharon still wasn't convinced the dress was a good idea—she'd just been trying it on 'for fun' because the other women talked her into it—but Elaine and Brenda both agreed the green dress should go in the 'Yes' pile for the day.
Brenda changed back into her clothes and joined Elaine by the mirrors while they waited for Sharon to try on her final dress. They were so engrossed in chatting about Brenda's skirts they didn't hear the stall door open.
Sharon walked up behind them and cleared her throat, "Ok, here's the last one."
The two women turned to look at her, both responding at the same time.
"Oh my God—"
"You look amazing," Brenda's voice came out breathier than she expected. She cleared her throat, putting a hand on Elaine's arm to steady herself as she tried to regain her composure.
The dress was red with a peekaboo lace bodice and solid, draped skirt. The cap sleeves sat almost off-the-shoulder, dropping into a wide, but tasteful, v neckline that was mirrored in the back. The hemline hit several inches above the knee, but lower than the previous green dress.
"You really do look amazing, Sharon," Elaine agreed.
Sharon looked stunning. In all of the dresses—even the first one. Yes, Brenda had seen the other woman half-naked not that long ago, but she hadn't really been looking, she'd been more concerned with covering her up. Now, though, her eyes moved over Sharon's form in admiration. She was a beautiful woman; Brenda had noticed that much before, but she hadn't fully appreciated just how incredibly attractive her friend was until today…
"Well then," Elaine's voice once again broke the silence, interrupting the younger woman's train of thought. "I'll give you some time to get changed and decide. Meet me up front whenever you're ready." She paused in the doorway, "And Sharon, I'm not letting you out of this store without at least one of those dresses." Not waiting for a reply, she turned on her heel and breezed out of the fitting area leaving the two women alone again.
Brenda nodded absently, but her attention was on Sharon, who was running her hands down the sides of her dress as she looked at herself in the mirror, turning slightly to get a better view of the back. The blonde moved up behind her, sweeping her hair over one shoulder like Sharon had done earlier. Brenda's other hand gently traced a path from her right shoulder down her back following one side of the 'v' of her neckline before pulling away. Her hands settled on Sharon's shoulders, giving them a quick squeeze before she stepped back out of the other woman's space.
Lost in thought, the older woman stared at her reflection, a soft smile on her face, until the pressure of the blonde's hands on her shoulders brought her back to the present moment. Was it Brenda's imagination or had Sharon leaned back slightly into her touch? When the younger woman stepped back, Sharon shifted to look at her and her smile turned into a smirk. She raised her eyebrow and bent down, performing one final squat test.
"This one works much better," she said, running her hands down the dress to smooth it back in place as she stood. "I don't have to worry about accidentally flashing someone every time I move," she added, smiling to cover the slight awkwardness she felt about how short the other dress was.
"This one is gorgeous on you, but the green one looked amazing, too," Brenda responded, "I think you should get both of them."
Sharon opened her mouth to object, but Brenda continued, "Elaine was right, you do have great legs." Her eyes moved involuntarily to Sharon's legs before meeting the woman's eyes again. "And the color really brought out your eyes," she went on, hoping if she just kept talking it would distract from the slight flush that had crept into both women's cheeks. "Maybe it's shorter than what you're used to, but my friend, Sharon, says sometimes it's good to step outside your comfort zone."
The older woman rolled her eyes and interjected, "Brenda, they are both decidedly out of my comfort zone."
"Great, then it's settled!" the blonde exclaimed, "Besides, every woman needs a couple show-stoppers like that in their wardrobe. You never know when they might come in handy..."
Sharon sighed, shaking her head. "Brenda…I wasn't planning on buying anything today. I certainly don't need two new dresses—"
"Sharon, if you don't get them both, I'm buying the other one for you," Brenda stated with finality. "I'm getting three pencil skirts—three!"
"I'm going to get changed," the brunette said flatly, walking toward the stalls. She turned and asked, "May I please have my pants back?" holding out her hand to the younger woman expectantly.
Brenda moved past her and into the other stall, grabbing the jeans and tossing them to the older woman. "I'll be right back," she said as she collected the skirts from her stall, hung the two "No's" on the rack near the door, and walked out, carrying the other three up to Elaine at the register.
She returned to the fitting room and heard Sharon's door open, watching with interest as the other woman exited. Sharon carried three dresses over and hung them on the rack next to Brenda's discarded skirts, and the blonde held her breath.
When the older woman retrieved the remaining two dresses from her stall and moved past Brenda, past the discard rack, and out into the shop, Brenda beamed.
Her insides were screaming with excitement, but she took a moment to calm herself before joining Sharon at the register. She didn't want to do or say anything to jeopardize the purchase of both dresses.
Elaine looked from the dresses in Sharon's hands to Brenda, her eyebrows raising slightly. Then she looked at Sharon and smiled warmly. "All set then?" she asked.
"I don't want to hear a word, Elaine." Sharon replied as she handed over the dresses. "Not a word." Elaine shrugged innocently in response, sharing a look with Brenda. She thought she'd been quite diplomatic in the phrasing of her question, but the brunette seemed to have a different opinion.
Without further discussion, she rang up the sale, adding a discount to the total. After all, Sharon was one of her favorite and most loyal customers. She couldn't believe the older woman was actually buying both dresses, and she wanted to do something to make her feel a little better about her decision.
Sharon looked at the dresses and then eyed the total as she retrieved her credit card from her purse. She had already done the math in her head before she came out of the fitting rooms, and that most definitely did not match what was showing at the register. She raised an eyebrow at Elaine, who just smiled, placing the dresses into a bag while Sharon completed her purchase.
Brenda was next to check out and Elaine gave her a discount as well. Not only was she buying 3 skirts, she had been the one to get Sharon to try those dresses on in the first place. They must be pretty good friends for her to have that kind of sway over the brunette—Sharon could be incredibly stubborn…
Bags in hand, they said their goodbyes and headed out, Brenda promising to return with Sharon in the future.
They'd spent more time in the shop than either had anticipated, and both women were starting to get hungry. After they safely stowed their purchases in the trunk, they started discussing lunch options. Sharon suggested sushi since there were several places nearby, and Brenda agreed. It wasn't something she'd had very often, but she knew there were at least a couple of things she liked, and Sharon seemed excited about it.
After lunch, they walked around the area, window shopping and generally just enjoying a leisurely day off in the company of a friend. Even with the discounts from Elaine, their clothing purchases had left both women with some serious sticker shock, so neither of them was particularly interested in spending more on unnecessary items. A few hours later, they decided to head home.
Traffic was heavier on the way back, but neither woman seemed to mind, not having anywhere else they needed to be. After some initial chatting, they settled into a comfortable silence, each taking time to reflect on their excursion and to recharge a little. Sharon had turned the radio to a classical station and the music was playing softly in the background. Every so often her fingers drummed on the steering wheel in time with the music.
Brenda stared out the window thinking about their day so far. She had thoroughly enjoyed spending the day with Sharon and was already starting to feel sad that their time together would be coming to an end soon. Outside of work, she spent a lot of time alone, which she was fine with, but it was nice having someone to do things with again.
Since they'd become friends, the brunette had continued to surprise her. Brenda had wanted to learn more about who Sharon was behind the Captain's icy facade, and she was most certainly finding that out now. Once Sharon had started letting her guard down, Brenda discovered the other woman was warm and thoughtful—she'd brought the blonde lunch earlier that week when she'd desperately needed food—she had a great sense of humor, incredible legs, and she was very unexpectedly tactile.
Brenda smiled softly to herself. That was something that had really surprised her given how reserved the brunette was at work. And yet, now that she thought about it, Sharon was so precise with her language, sometimes it seemed like it was hard for her to find the right words to express herself. Brenda wondered whether touch was maybe just an easier way for the brunette to connect. She wondered whether the older woman even realized she did it...
It might take some getting used to since every touch right now lit her up like the 4th of July, but Brenda didn't want to inadvertently push Sharon away or cause her to shut down just because she was feeling a little jumpy. She resolved to make an effort not to shy away from the other woman's touch when it happened, and maybe even to include it more in their personal interactions.
She really valued their newfound friendship and wanted to make sure Sharon knew that, but saying something like that out loud would just be weird. While Brenda was skilled in the interview room, using words to trip up suspects and elicit confessions, somehow when it came to her personal life, things got all jumbled up. She tended to blurt things out without thinking, ending up with her foot in her mouth more often than not. Maybe using touch more to communicate would help avoid some of that…She figured it was at least worth a try.
Brenda let out a soft sigh, leaning her head back against the headrest, the sun warming her face. She closed her eyes behind her sunglasses and allowed herself to drift off, the quiet music and drumming of Sharon's fingers lulling her to sleep.
Sharon parked the car and looked over at the blonde, who was sound asleep in the passenger seat. She'd curled herself somewhat into the door, her head resting on the glass, sunglasses slightly askew. Sharon smiled warmly at the sight as she had so many times on the quiet drive home. She wasn't sure what she'd expected from a shopping trip with the younger woman, but she'd really enjoyed herself. Maybe not the sticker shock from her impulse purchases, but even as uncomfortable as she initially felt about the dresses, she was glad she'd been coerced into trying them on. It was nice to have some new options, even if she had no idea when she would find occasion to wear either of them.
She gently placed her hand on her friend's shoulder and softly said, "Brenda, we're back."
A warm hand on Brenda's shoulder and the low, smooth sound of Sharon's voice brought her back to consciousness. The blonde sat up slowly, clearing her throat and removing her sunglasses before turning to look at the other woman. "We're here already?" she asked, rubbing her neck. It seemed as though she'd just shut her eyes a few minutes ago, but the crick in her neck said otherwise.
"Mhmm," Sharon nodded with a soft smile. Both women started gathering their things, getting ready to exit the car and part ways. Brenda hoisted her massive handbag onto her shoulder and moved toward the trunk where they'd stowed their clothing purchases. The brunette joined her a minute later, popping the trunk, and both of them leaned in at the same time, awkwardly crowding each other as they attempted to grab their bags. They both laughed, and Sharon stepped back, indicating Brenda should go first.
The symbolism of the gesture was not lost on the younger woman, who raised her eyebrows and shot the brunette an amused look before very slowly and deliberately removed her bag from the trunk. Bag in hand, she straightened up and took an exaggerated step back, holding out her arm to signal it was Sharon's turn.
When the older woman shut the trunk and turned to face her, Brenda moved closer again and said, "Thanks, Sharon, I had a really nice time today." She smiled and was starting to reach out to offer a quick goodbye hug when the brunette spoke.
"Do you need to use the bathroom or anything before heading home?" she asked. "We've been in the car a while…you're welcome to come up."
Brenda stopped mid-motion and let her arms fall the few inches back to her sides as she considered the offer. "Now that you mention it, that's probably a good idea," she agreed. "Whenever I think it'll just be a quick trip, I either get stuck in traffic or end up lost somewhere, neither of which sounds very appealing with a full bladder," she said, her face scrunching slightly. "And I could use a chance to stretch my legs for a minute before getting back in the car…"
Sharon nodded, seemingly satisfied with the blonde's response. She waited while Brenda deposited her things in her car and then the two women headed upstairs to Sharon's condo. They both slipped off their shoes as they entered, the brunette heading to her bedroom to hang up her purchases while the younger woman dropped her handbag on a chair and made a beeline for the bathroom.
When Brenda returned to the living room, Sharon was standing in the kitchen studying something on the counter. "Are you hungry?" she asked as the blonde approached. "It's almost dinner time and I was thinking about ordering something."
Sharon looked up from what the younger woman now realized were takeout menus and met Brenda's eyes. "You're welcome to join me…if you'd like," she added, her eyes hopeful despite the hesitance in her voice.
"Are you sure you haven't had enough of me today?" Brenda responded at the same time Sharon said, "I know it's getting later, you probably have other things to do—"
Brenda reached out and put her hand on Sharon's arm, squeezing gently to stop the older woman's backpedaling. "Dinner sounds great," she answered, smiling reassuringly. She held the brunette's gaze for a few beats before removing her hand and shifting her focus to the menus. "So, what are we having?"
"Hmm…" Sharon turned to look at the menus again, "I was thinking either Italian or Thai…do you have a preference?"
"How about Thai? I just had Italian…" the blonde replied as she squinted at what seemed like microscopic print. She patted at her chest and then her head, searching for her non-existent glasses, before letting out an exasperated huff and walking back into the living room.
Sharon couldn't help but smile as she watched the blonde stomp over to her monstrosity of a handbag and start rummaging around. Brenda looked up when she found her prize and caught the older woman looking at her. "...What?" she asked as she returned to the kitchen. The brunette's only response was to shrug one shoulder, her smile widening.
"Didn't your momma ever teach you that it's rude to stare?" Brenda shot what she hoped was a glare in the other woman's direction, but she was unable to keep a straight face. She gave in and returned Sharon's smile before very intentionally donning her glasses and starting to peruse the menu.
Sharon called in the order a few minutes later and then moved to the fridge to retrieve a bottle of wine. When she turned and set the bottle of Pinot Grigio on the counter, Brenda scrunched her face in a disapproving pout. The brunette raised her eyebrow, but otherwise ignored the younger woman for the moment as she opened the bottle and grabbed a paper towel.
Brenda watched in fascination as Sharon neatly folded the paper towel and wrapped it around the bottle to form a perfect drip guard before grabbing a glass from the cupboard. Of course Sharon knew how to do that…
"Didn't your mother ever teach you not to look a gift horse in the mouth?" Sharon asked with a playful smirk as she filled the glass.
The blonde rolled her eyes and smiled at the jab. Her attention shifted from Sharon to the glass, which suddenly started moving across the counter in her direction, the older woman's fingers resting on the base of the glass as she slowly slid it across the smooth surface. Brenda reached out to take the offered glass, placing her fingers on top of Sharon's, but the brunette didn't let go, instead stopping the movement of the glass across the counter.
Confused, the younger woman looked up and met bright green eyes that sparkled with amusement. Brenda stubbornly refused to remove her hand, ignoring the familiar surge of heat and electricity that traveled up her arm from where their fingers touched.
"Why thank you, Sharon, that's so kind of you to offer," she drawled, her voice an octave higher than usual and dripping with syrupy sweetness. "I don't believe I've ever had this particular wine before, and I'm very much looking forward to giving it a try," she added with a cheesy grin.
A burst of laughter erupted from the older woman, who just shook her head and pushed the glass closer to the blonde before retrieving a second glass from the cupboard and pouring some for herself. "Does that ever really work on people?" Sharon inquired skeptically.
"Oh, I don't know, it seemed to work just fine on you a minute ago," came the blonde's smug reply. She gave the brunette a pointed look as she lifted her glass to her lips and took a long sip. The look on Sharon's face was priceless and Brenda was quite proud of herself for not choking.
"Hmm…" she hummed in surprise as she swallowed the cool liquid, "this is actually pretty good."
"You don't have to sound so surprised, Brenda. It may not be a Merlot, but that doesn't mean it's bad." Grabbing her glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, she walked around the end of the counter toward the living room, stopping right in front of the blonde.
Brenda froze, Sharon was so close that the younger woman could feel her breath on her skin. Giving her a pointed look, Sharon said, "I don't. Drink. Shitty. Wine," every syllable enunciated with perfect clarity. Then she turned and strolled past the blonde into the living room. Brenda just stood there for a moment before clearing her throat and following the other woman.
Sharon placed the bottle and her glass on the coffee table before setting out a third coaster for Brenda. "Sorry about the mess," she said apologetically as she collected a legal pad and pen that were sitting on one corner of the coffee table and deposited them on her desk. Then, she moved to pick up what looked like a comfort sweater that had been draped over one arm of the couch and disappeared down the hall before returning moments later.
Brenda snorted, rolling her eyes. If that's what she considered a mess, the brunette wouldn't last five minutes inside Brenda's house. She made a mental note to try and clean things up a little better in case the other woman stopped by sometime.
The door buzzed indicating the arrival of their dinner just as they were finishing up their first glass of wine. Sharon agreed to eating on the couch as long as Brenda promised not to make a mess. They found a police procedural to watch on TV while they ate, and both women found it surprisingly enjoyable.
The show was terrible. The acting was over-the-top and everything else, from the crime scene to the police procedures, was completely unrealistic. They took turns poking holes in the plot and criticizing the officers' actions, laughing all the while. When it was over, they cleaned up their dishes and put the leftover food away, returning to the living room and their wine to find that another episode had just begun. Sharon checked the schedule and discovered the network was airing a marathon leading up to the season finale.
There were only 4 episodes remaining and now that they were somewhat invested, the two women decided to keep watching. They opened another bottle of wine and settled in next to one another on the couch for the duration, Sharon's feet tucked under Brenda's thigh. Both women found themselves leaning into each other from time to time to make snarky comments or when overtaken by a fit of giggles, their hands coming to rest casually on each other's legs in the process.
Her cheeks flushed from wine and laughter, Brenda was unable to pinpoint the exact source of the warm, floating feeling coursing through her, but she decided right now she didn't really care. The feeling of hot breath in her ear brought her back to the present moment as Sharon leaned in to make another searing comment about the lead actor's deductive abilities, causing them both to dissolve into a fit of giggles once more.
. . .
Brenda stirred, feeling something hard under her cheek. Blinking slowly, she opened her eyes and realized she'd fallen asleep, her head resting on Sharon's rather pointy shoulder. She sat up carefully, grateful she hadn't drooled on the other woman.
The brunette was also asleep, her head resting on the arm of the couch. There was an infomercial blaring on TV, the marathon clearly over. She sighed, after all that, she couldn't believe they'd missed the ending. Well…she looked over at the empty wine bottles sitting on the coffee table, maybe she could…
She swung her legs around, straightening them, and reached for the remote to turn off the TV. She attempted to stand up, but immediately fell back onto the couch, flailing, the impact waking the woman next to her.
"Oh, for heaven's sake! Sorry Sharon…" she said apologetically, rubbing the other woman's arm as the brunette sat up and ran a hand through her hair. "Looks like we missed the finale," she continued, groaning as she tried once more to stand, a little more slowly this time.
Sharon used her hands to help move her cramped legs off the couch, massaging her calf in an attempt to regain circulation. She watched as the blonde stood and took a few steps on wobbly legs before stopping to steady herself using the other arm of the couch. "You're drunk," Sharon snorted, starting to giggle.
The blonde wasn't sure if Sharon was laughing at herself for snorting or at Brenda's attempt to ambulate, but she whipped her head around—a little too quickly—and responded, "Well…so are you!"
It wasn't the wittiest retort, but in her defense, the room was spinning rather spectacularly at the moment. She put a hand on her forehead, the other still on the arm of the couch, and forced herself not to close her eyes. "I think I could use some water, how about you?"
The older woman had stopped giggling and was focused on trying to stand up as well. Taking a cue from Brenda, she kept her hand on the arm of the couch as she stood, using it to steady herself before awkwardly made her way over to Brenda. She took the younger woman's hand and they both headed slowly toward the kitchen, using one another for support.
Sharon got them each a glass of water, both of them allowing the counter to prop them up as they drank.
"Just give me another minute and I'll call myself a cab. There's no way I'm driving home tonight—this morning—whatever," Brenda said as she drank more of her water.
Sharon's brow furrowed, "Don't be silly. It's late, you can stay in the guest room." From her tone it was clear it wasn't up for debate, so Brenda just nodded, finishing her glass of water. Sharon refilled both of their glasses before grabbing the younger woman's hand again and leading her through the living room and down the hallway to the guest room.
She switched on the overhead light and deposited the other woman inside before releasing her hand and turning back to the door saying, "I'll be right back." Brenda walked over and set her water on the nightstand while she waited for Sharon to come back. The brunette returned a few minutes later with pajamas, a toothbrush, and some pain pills. She handed Brenda the pajamas and then set the toothbrush and pills on the nightstand, switching on the bedside lamp before crossing the room to turn off the overhead light.
"As you know, the bathroom is just across the hall," Sharon said, gesturing toward the doorway, "I set out toothpaste and towels for you. Is there anything else you need?"
"No. Thanks, Sharon," the blonde answered, shaking her head. "Well…maybe a new liver?" she said with a faint smile.
"Sorry, I'm fresh out of livers, but you could always check with Dr. Morales," Sharon suggested, smiling back at the younger woman.
Brenda chuckled and scrunched up her face again, "On second thought, nevermind..."
"Ok then," Sharon nodded, "I'm heading to bed." She took a step forward, resting her hand on top of the pajamas draped over Brenda's arm. "Goodnight, Brenda," she said with a squeeze, "Sleep well."
"Goodnight, Sharon," the blonde echoed, covering the other woman's hand with her own and squeezing back before they both withdrew. Brenda followed the brunette to the door and closed it behind her. She drank the rest of her water and changed into the pajamas before padding over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and wash her face.
She went back to the living room to retrieve her phone, which mercifully hadn't rung all day, and refilled her water glass once more. Walking back to the guest room, she left the door slightly ajar out of habit, and climbed into bed, turning off the lamp.
She couldn't believe they'd consumed that much wine, but it really had been surprisingly good—for a white. She glanced at the water glass on the nightstand and sent up a prayer that she wouldn't have too much of a hangover in the morning…
Brenda rolled over on her side, getting more comfortable in the unfamiliar bed. Sharon's guest bed. Where she was sleeping over. Sure, she'd stayed on the couch once before, but this was different. This was by invitation—sort of…It was last minute, not planned, but still…She was a grown woman having a sleepover at her friend's house. Her momma would be thrilled, she thought with a smile as she closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off to sleep.
Sharon went about her evening routine, pausing occasionally to listen to the sounds of the blonde moving around the condo as she got ready for bed. Depositing her dirty clothes in the laundry hamper, her eyes landed on the two newly-acquired items hanging in her closet. Smiling to herself, she turned and headed back toward her bed.
Sitting down on the edge, she drank more of her own water before sliding into the cool sheets. She turned off the light and stretched out under the covers, her legs welcoming the extension, still not fully recovered from their cramped position on the couch. Her thoughts drifted first to the mess she'd left on the coffee table and then to the younger woman sleeping in her guest room.
Although Sharon hated to admit it, they were quite similar in many regards. Away from the pressures and competing priorities at work, the two were settling into a comfortable camaraderie. She wasn't sure what had possessed her to invite the other woman up tonight, but it had turned into a thoroughly enjoyable evening.
She was still a little concerned about what would happen the next time they found themselves at odds professionally, but she was too tired to worry about that right now. Much like the disorder in the living room, she was willing to let it go for the moment, adding it to the list of things to deal with later, the combination of wine and exhaustion pulling heavily at the edges of her consciousness. Letting out a contented sigh, she allowed her eyes to close, sinking almost immediately into a deep sleep.
. . .
Brenda rolled over and opened her eyes, slightly disoriented as she took in the unfamiliar surroundings. It was early—too early—but that happened sometimes when she'd stayed up too late drinking. Right. She was at Sharon's. She sat up slowly, bracing herself for the first pangs of the headache that would surely start building as soon as she was fully awake, but she felt…nothing.
Confused, she ran a hand through her hair and waited another minute. Under normal circumstances she would already be able to feel her head throbbing in time with her pulse. Still nothing…She reached over to the nightstand and decided to go ahead and take the painkillers the other woman had given her the night before, just in case. Feeling more awake after a quick stop in the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth, she padded down the hall to the living room.
The early morning sun filled the room, illuminating the glasses and empty bottles that littered the surface of the coffee table. Remembering the older woman's ridiculous apology the night before for the "mess," Brenda collected their dirty wine glasses and carried them into the kitchen. Placing them next to the sink, she returned to retrieve the empty wine bottles as well.
After a brief search, she located the recycling bin, rinsing out the bottles and lowering them gingerly into the bin one-at-a-time, not wanting to wake the brunette. Unsure whether the glasses could go in the dishwasher or not, Brenda decided to hand wash them. Figuring Sharon would be the kind of person who would fuss about water spots, she hand dried them and then placed them back in the cupboard she'd seen the other woman take them out of the previous evening.
Coffee was next on the agenda, but she found she was at a loss. She had no idea where Sharon kept her coffee, and the older woman's coffee maker was much fancier than Brenda's—who needed that many buttons for coffee? Wasn't an on/off switch enough?
She was still standing there staring at the machine and chewing on her lip when Sharon walked into the kitchen.
"Good morning," Brenda turned at the sound of the brunette's voice. Her eyes took in the sight of her friend's pajama-clad form, hair up in a messy bun, eyes shining brightly from her freshly-washed face. She'd never seen this Sharon before. The last time she'd woken up in the older woman's condo, Sharon had emerged from her bedroom fully washed and dressed for work.
"Morning," she echoed, meeting the warm smile that greeted her with one of her own.
"You're up early," Sharon commented.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" asked the blonde apologetically. The older woman shrugged one shoulder noncommittally in response. "I was just cleaning up a little," she continued, "and then I...got stuck…" she admitted, gesturing at the coffee maker and making a face.
"Thank you," Sharon replied, her eyes sweeping around the space and finding no traces of the wine glasses or empty bottles, "You didn't have to do that."
Brenda shrugged, "I was up, and after your comment yesterday about the nonexistent mess, I figured you might not appreciate waking up to an actual mess this morning. Besides, I helped make it, it's only right that I should help clean it up..."
"Well, thank you. That was a pleasant surprise," she said, smiling again. "Here, let me," she stepped forward into the blonde's space, placing one hand gently on the small of her back as she leaned forward to open the cupboard next to Brenda's head. The younger woman didn't dare move, not wanting to cause a collision or or otherwise get in the way of whatever the brunette was doing.
She felt herself flush with heat as Sharon's body pressed against her. Setting a canister on the counter and carefully closing the cupboard door, Sharon straightened again, letting her hand fall from the younger woman's back as she started making the coffee.
Brenda slowly let out the breath she'd been holding and stepped back, giving the other woman more space to operate. Once the coffee was brewing, Sharon took two mugs from the cupboard and placed them on the counter next to the coffee maker. Soon honey, sugar, and a spoon appeared next to the mugs, followed by cream.
Both women stared at the coffee carafe for a minute, watching it fill before continuing their conversation. Brenda marveled at how much faster Sharon's machine was than her own. The blonde motioned for Sharon to help herself while she reached for the honey—of course she even had fancy raw honey!—and dug out a heaping spoonful, resting it in her mug. Then, the older woman turned and offered coffee to Brenda, who immediately began stirring in an effort to dissolve the small boulder of honey in the bottom of her mug.
"Did you sleep ok?" the brunette asked, adding a small amount of cream to her beverage. She paused, examining the color of the liquid, and then added another splash before looking over at the younger woman.
Brenda nodded, swallowing a sip of coffee. "Not nearly long enough, but yes," she replied, pausing before adding, "I guess that's what I get for drinking so much last night…"
Sharon brought her mug to her lips, humming, and then nodded. "How are you feeling?"
"Better now that I have some coffee," the blonde said, taking another sip before shaking her head, "I can't believe I don't have a headache…"
"I told you, I don't drink shitty wine," came the older woman's haughty reply.
"Neither do I!" Brenda shot back, a look of outrage on her face as her bare foot silently stomped the kitchen floor.
Right. Sharon reminded herself that morning probably wasn't the best time to antagonize the blonde…She took a deep breath and started over, trying to deescalate the situation. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply that Merlot was shitty or that you had bad taste in wine," she apologized, "I just meant that this is an excellent example of why I sometimes drink whites, especially if I'm having more than just a glass or two. I rarely get headaches from a good white. Reds, on the other hand, are much more hit or miss…"
Brenda crossed her arms, letting out a "Hmph!" as she tried to hold onto her outrage, but she quickly lost steam. The brunette's words and her own distinct lack of a headache this morning made it difficult to continue arguing.
Sharon regarded the younger woman, tipping her head slightly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. The half-hearted attempt at a petulant glare was somehow incredibly endearing, especially coming from a pajama-clad and sleep-rumpled Brenda. Too late, she realized she was staring and tried to hide her face behind her mug.
"What?" the blonde asked, trying to read the look that flashed across the other woman's face.
"Nothing," Sharon replied, attempting to brush it off. "What would you like for breakfast? Pancakes?"
The younger woman paused for a moment, the quick change of subject not lost on her. Sharon was quite adept at being evasive when she wanted to be, but Brenda's stomach started growling, so she let it go and just said, "Mmm, that sounds amazing."
Sharon nodded and set to work making breakfast, requesting minor assistance from the blonde here and there throughout the process.
Soon, they found themselves sitting at the table, a steaming stack of pancakes, a bowl of mixed berries, syrup—both maple and chocolate at the younger woman's request—and freshly-poured coffee completing the spread between them.
Brenda helped herself to several pancakes, dousing them in so much syrup of both varieties that Sharon was worried it was going to start running off her plate onto the table. Feeling the other woman's eyes on her, she took a bite, humming in appreciation. She thought the brunette might have been about to say something, but instead, she just helped herself to one pancake, adding several spoonfuls of berries and a very light drizzle of syrup.
They ate in silence for several minutes before Brenda cleared her throat and asked, "Am I messing up your plans for today?"
Sharon looked up at the younger woman, confused, her fork frozen in midair halfway to her mouth. When she didn't say anything, the blonde continued, "I—I just mean, it's Sunday…"
Sharon nodded her head deliberately, "Sunday does tend to follow Saturday…that's generally how weekends work…" she said dryly, her fork resuming its path to her mouth.
Brenda sighed, rolling her eyes. "I just—I wasn't sure if you were planning to go to church today or if my being here was keeping you from going…" she blurted out all at once, uncertainty in her voice.
Sharon set down her fork and reached out, placing a hand on the younger woman's wrist. "Brenda, it's fine. Right now my plan is to enjoy having breakfast with you," she said reassuringly, ducking her head slightly to catch the other woman's downcast eyes.
"Yes, I go to church," she went on, "My faith is important to me, but I don't feel a need or pressure to go every week."
"Are you sure?" the blonde asked again.
"If it were an issue, I would have said something," Sharon replied. "I could have let you call a cab last night. Or gotten up and gone this morning and either told you to wait for me to get back or to see yourself out. Or, well…I could probably still make late Mass if I really wanted to—which I don't. Today, I'm enjoying a leisurely Sunday morning with my friend," she stated firmly.
"Besides," she added, smiling broadly, "we both know if I'm really unhappy about something, people don't have to ask." Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she squeezed Brenda's wrist, her comment eliciting a chuckle from the younger woman.
"Ok, as long as you're sure," said the blonde, some of the tension she'd been holding leaving her frame.
"I'm sure," Sharon said, squeezing her wrist affectionately once more before returning to her breakfast.
The conversation shifted to their adventures the previous day. Neither woman could believe how much had happened in the last 24 hours or how quickly the time had flown by. When breakfast was finished, Brenda helped clear the table, careful not to spill any syrup in the process. When everything was washed and put away, they sat back down to finish the pot of coffee before Sharon loaded their cups into the dishwasher and Brenda returned to the guest room to change and get ready to head home.
When she re-emerged, the older woman handed over her giant purse and walked the blonde to the door. Both women stood there awkwardly for a moment until Brenda unexpectedly stepped forward and embraced the brunette saying, "Thanks, Sharon, this was really fun." She stepped back adding, "See you tomorrow?"
"It was," Sharon agreed, smiling broadly. "See you tomorrow, Brenda."