A/N: I had hoped to have something ready sooner, but this chapter kept getting bigger and bigger, so I decided to split it and post this first part now rather than waiting until the rest is finished. I also decided to finally try writing Brenda's accent instead of just hearing it in my head, so here you go...
Sharon's phone dinged as she stepped into her condo, closing and locking the door behind her. She smiled and shook her head, ignoring her phone for the moment, fairly certain she knew who it was and what it was about. She hung up her coat and slipped out of her heels before padding to the kitchen to put her to-go container in the refrigerator and start some hot water for tea.
She retrieved her phone from her purse, carrying the device and her shoes with her into her bedroom as it dinged again. She exchanged her dress for some soft pants and an oversized shirt and then finally unlocked her phone to read her waiting messages.
Girlfriend, huh? - G
Or do you prefer ladyfriend? Being women of a certain age and all… - G
Sharon's smirk immediately turned into a glare as she read the second message. Gavin was lucky he was on the other end of a phone and not there in front of her. Things were pretty much back to normal now between them after the incident at the Halloween party, but it was still somewhat fresh. After he'd recovered from his multi-day hangover, Gavin had discovered a text from Sharon with the name and contact information for the head of one of the crews the LAPD used for crime scene cleanup. If they were capable of handling crime-scene-level stains, she hoped they'd be able to do something with Gavin's furniture as well.
Once he was himself again, they'd also established that Gavin had no memory of most of that evening. He'd had no idea Sharon and Brenda had actually shown up at all until Kyle told him. The attorney had been mortified to learn what happened and how he'd treated the two women. He had taken them out for a ridiculously overpriced apology brunch as soon as their schedules allowed.
After the brunch and an almost painful amount of pleading and groveling, Gavin eventually managed to convince Sharon to send him a copy of the selfie she and Brenda had taken for Ricky of the two of them in their costumes.
Ricky had wanted to see the final product after being part of Sharon's outfit selection process. He'd also been curious to see what this Brenda looked like—even if she was wearing a wig and dressed up like his mother. Sharon had happily shared the image with her son, but Gavin was another story. She'd made him work for it, but he was so curious to catch even a partial glimpse of the spectacle that had led up to what they now referred to as The Debacle that he'd been up for the challenge.
Sharon shook her head at her phone and replied.
I'm going to pretend you didn't say that - S
We haven't actually discussed it yet - S
Your age? - G
Gavin… - S
She sighed. They really hadn't discussed it. She and Brenda had gone out on a few more formal dates since Sharon had asked at the party whether they could even say they were "dating" if they never went on dates. They'd managed a movie, one very late dinner that almost didn't happen because of complications wrapping up Sharon's OIS, and then the double date with Gavin and Kyle earlier that evening...
. . .
The restaurant had seemed nice enough, perhaps trying a bit too hard to be more upscale than it actually was, but the wine and conversation had flowed freely (although no wine for Gavin, who had sworn off alcohol for at least a month). After the meal, Gavin had flagged down a passing server to order a coffee for himself and things took an interesting turn.
"Certainly, sir," the rather stuffy server began with a curt nod of his head. "Would you and your ladyfriend care to share some dessert as well?" he'd asked, looking briefly in Brenda's direction before focusing his attention back on Gavin.
"Oh, um—" Gavin stammered, thrown by the man's complete and total misreading of the situation at their table.
"'Scuse me…Francesco, is it?" Brenda interrupted, squinting at the man's name tag, "I would like my own dessert, thank you very much. I'm not really interested in what he wants," she said, waving her hand dismissively in Gavin's direction, "but I'll have the Torta Setteveli."
"Very well, madam," the server nodded, just as Kyle returned and quietly took his seat, confused by the sudden tension at the table.
"Oh, and if you could please bring an extra fork for my ladyfriend, in case she'd like to try some? Thank you so much," Brenda continued with a saccharine smile, placing her hand over Sharon's on the table for emphasis.
Gavin's wide eyes found Sharon's, his own surprise reflected in them for a split second before she schooled her features into a more neutral expression, returning her attention to the blonde. The server clenched his jaw and made to leave the table.
"And just one more thing," Brenda added, leaning closer to the pompous man, "I'll be speakin' with your supervisor to suggest that you attend some sensitivity trainin' so you can learn how to read a room instead of makin' such horribly old-fashioned assumptions about who is datin' whom and alienatin' your payin' customers. My girlfriend here," she nodded in Sharon's direction, "is quite well-acquainted with the local trainin' teams, I'm sure she'd be more than happy to make some recommendations."
"Th-that won't be necessary," the man said curtly before scurrying off to put in the order for her dessert, his face and neck flushed a deep red.
The blonde turned back to her tablemates, withdrawing her hand from Sharon's in favor of her wine glass. Sharon blushed, looking slightly mortified by the blonde's display, but the smirk she wore betrayed her amusement with the situation.
"Oh my God, Brenda!" Gavin hissed in a whispered shout, "He's probably going to spit all over your cake now. And in my coffee!"
Brenda shrugged. Even if he did, she wouldn't let it ruin her seven layers of chocolate and hazelnut one bit.
"I can't believe he thought I was datin' you!" she said to Gavin. "What?!" she asked at the looks she got from her tablemates, oblivious to how her comment had sounded. "Anyone with two eyes and an ounce of sense can see that Kyle's your boyfriend and Sharon's my girlfriend." Someone snorted. "Our other server had it figured out before we even made it to our table!" Brenda pointed out.
"I think he did it on purpose," she said with a huff, "Too bad his momma didn't teach him better manners. I am gonna speak to his supervisor. His name's probably not even really Francesco. It's probably just plain Frank—"
Brenda's phone rang, cutting her off before she could go any further. She managed to find it in her purse fairly quickly and stepped out into the foyer to take the call. While the blonde got the details from her team, Sharon quietly requested a to-go box for the dessert, gathering their things and sending Gavin an apologetic look. She opened her wallet and started to pull out some cash, but he waved her off. Brenda had returned to the table just as the boxed dessert arrived, and the two women had swept out of the restaurant and into Sharon's car so she could drop Brenda off at her own vehicle.
. . .
Sharon heard the kettle whistling and decided to call Gavin as she headed to the kitchen. She hit speakerphone as it rang and then set it down on the counter, turning her attention to the kettle.
"Well hello there," he answered.
"Hi. I'm making tea and calling seemed easier," she said, her fingers hovering over various teas as she considered her options.
"So you really haven't discussed it?" he asked, no teasing in his voice this time.
"No, we haven't. And even if Brenda hadn't been on the phone, the drive back to her car when she was already focused on her murder investigation hardly seemed like an appropriate time to broach the subject," she sighed. "These types of conversations are difficult enough without added distractions."
Gavin groaned, "I see your point."
"I don't know if she even realizes what she said, if she really meant it. Or if she was just mad at the server and trying to make a point. You know how she just blurts things out sometimes without thinking..." Her hand landed on a chamomile blend Emily had given her.
"Oh, you mean like her not-at-all-disguised horror at the prospect of dating me?" Sharon chuckled, "I'm quite a catch, you know. I'm a gorgeous, successful lawyer. And excellent boyfriend material."
"Hmmm, I know you are, honey, but I don't think either of you is what the other is looking for at the moment," Sharon said with a chuckle.
"Probably not," Gavin conceded.
She sighed heavily, "If this…thing with Brenda is becoming…" she paused, pouring hot water carefully over the tea.
"...A relationship?" Gavin chimed in, filling in the blank for her.
"A relationship," she repeated, testing out the word and nodding slowly to herself, "we're going to need to make some…arrangements at work."
"Like finally getting the lock on your office door fixed?" Gavin asked with a grin, wiggling his eyebrows even though Sharon wasn't there to see it.
"Gavin Baker! No, not like that at all!" she scolded, grateful he couldn't see the color rising to her cheeks at the implication.
"Someone is supposed to be coming by 'soon' to take a look at that, though. Apparently the first work order I submitted was somehow 'lost,'" she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm not holding my breath, though." She was FID, after all. Things like that just came with the territory, and she was well past letting them get to her.
"Although Brenda outranks me, I, thankfully, do not report to her," Sharon removed the tea bag from her mug and set it aside. "That would be a disaster," she added under her breath, and Gavin did his best to muffle the laughter that started bubbling up at her comment.
"But, given the nature of our work and the individuals involved, I can say with 100% certainty that my division will be called out to investigate members of her squad in the future, and when that happens, we will need to have some things in place to ensure that the integrity of those investigations can't be called into question."
Sharon sipped carefully at her tea, "I don't know whether she's thought that far ahead, if she realizes that at least some people at work are going to need to be made aware—that even if we don't say it directly, the fact that there's been a significant enough change in our…interactions outside the office to warrant someone else taking lead on overlapping investigations…they're going to put 2 and 2 together. They are detectives, after all. And I don't know how she feels about that—I don't know how I feel about it. Neither of us is particularly good at talking about…this…until circumstances more or less force it…which seems to be what's happening again now."
"...Or, like you said, maybe she doesn't even realize what she said, how deeply a few words thrown out in the heat of a moment can impact the people around her, people she cares about," Gavin said sheepishly, thinking of his own recent outburst, the guilt and regret audible in his voice.
"Hmmm," Sharon hummed in acknowledgement, taking another sip of her tea. "That is precisely why it's important to have the difficult conversation rather than trying to avoid the issue," she sighed, "Both sides have the opportunity to share their perspectives, explain where they're coming from, and then to decide, taking all of that into account, how best to move forward."
"Well, it turned out okay in our case, didn't it? I'm sure it will be fine this time, too." Gavin said confidently, not at all sure of how this would actually shake out with the blonde. "How long will it take your…lady—"
"Brenda," Sharon interjected.
"Bren-da," Gavin repeated, placing extra emphasis on the name, "to wring a confession out of someone and close her case so you can have your conversation?"
"It's difficult to say. But I do have the dessert that sparked this whole thing sitting in my refrigerator, so I have a feeling I'll be talking to her sooner rather than later," Sharon mused. "I'm sorry we had to leave and cut the evening short. Although it may have been for the best with Brenda ready to throttle the server or make a big scene and get him fired…I take it you and Kyle didn't stick around much longer either?"
"No, we decided it was best to quit while we were ahead."
"I didn't mean to stick you with the bill," Sharon said, apologetically.
"Don't worry about it, sweetie. Consider it part of the ongoing repayment plan to earn my way back into your good graces."
Sharon chuckled, "Oh honey, if you think I can be bought—"
"You'll notice I said ongoing repayment plan. I'm under no illusions here about how much groveling it will take to make up for me being such a monumental asshole. I've said it a million times already, but I truly am sorry. I may not remember it, but that's no excuse. I never should have blamed you for my own drunken bullshit or thrown you out after pestering you for weeks and weeks to come! You didn't deserve any of that, sweetie," he sighed. "From what I could see in the picture, your costumes were amazing. I wish I could at least remember that much…"
"Thank you, Gavin, I appreciate the apology. Again," Sharon said, gently. "The costumes did turn out rather well, although it's probably for the best they didn't stay on very long…" she added through a loud yawn.
"As much as I would very much like to continue this conversation, that yawn just made my eyes water," Gavin teased.
"Hmmm," she hummed, nodding as she suppressed another yawn, "I think it's time for this lady of a certain age to put herself to bed. Goodnight, Gavin."
"Goodnight, sweetie. And let me know when you finally figure out whether or not you have a girlfrien—"
Sharon hung up the phone, shaking her head at her friend. He just couldn't help himself sometimes...
. . .
Sharon's phone dinged beside her as she sat at her desk. She closed the file she was reviewing and reached for the device, taking a measured breath as she read the new message.
Hey, what ever happened to my dessert? You didn't eat it, did you? - B
She asked herself, not for the first time, if she was sure she was ready for what it meant to be in a relationship with Brenda Leigh Johnson.
Why hello, Brenda. What a lovely surprise - S
My day is going well, thank you. How is your case? - S
She would respond to the blonde's initial question, but not until she'd made her point.
Sharon… - B
Seriously? - B
Sharon waited patiently as Brenda typed out her next response.
Oh for heaven's sake! You're impossible, you know that? - B
Our suspect confessed about an hour ago. Working on wrapping things up now. - B
There. Was that really so hard? Sharon wondered as she responded.
Glad to hear it. OUR dessert is safely tucked away in my refrigerator. You are more than welcome to stop by to visit it tonight. - S
Brenda rolled her eyes, but couldn't contain her excitement. She'd been thinking about that dessert ever since she stepped out of Sharon's car the other night.
I hear your ladyfriend might also like to try some. Would it be ok if she joined you? Or would you like to be alone with your dessert? - S
Sharon watched the three dots appear and disappear wondering whether she should have kept that last text to herself and waited to bring up the subject until they were in the same room. When the response finally came through, she let out a slow breath that turned into a chuckle.
Please inform my girlfriend that she can join us as long as she understands that 'trying some' does NOT mean she gets to eat half. - B
This stupid phone keeps autocorrecting to ladyfingers, so I gave up - B
Arguably also accurate… - S
Sharon smirked as she quickly sent off her response before she could think better of it.
Sharon Raydor! - B
I would also like to point out that if your girlfriend was truly interested in consuming half of your precious dessert, she would have done so the evening it was left in her care when it was still fresh… - S
If all goes well, I should be home around 6 or 6:30pm. - S
I'll let you know when I'm heading out. Should I plan to have actual food available for you or are you just interested in dessert? - S
Oh, I think you already know the answer to that one ; ) - B
. . .
"I know you're not a big fan of any of them, Brenda, but it has to be someone."
Brenda sat with her arms crossed and her brow furrowed, her lower lip sticking out in a ridiculous pout.
"What? Would you rather it be Sergeant Staples?" Brenda snorted involuntarily. "Precisely. Even though he's technically more senior than Elliot, I'm familiar enough with your team to know that having Sergeant Staples take point on future investigations would most likely lead to an additional OIS, which I'm fairly certain neither one of us wants to happen."
Sharon's exasperation with the blonde was tempered by the sight of a chocolate smear on the edge of the younger woman's lip, her own lips curling upward with the faintest hint of a smirk. She reached her thumb up to wipe the smear from the other woman's lip, Brenda's eyes following its trajectory to her mouth, where Sharon took longer than strictly necessary to suck the chocolate off before continuing to make her point.
The blonde swallowed hard, trying to remain focused on the conversation and not Sharon's lips. She knew the older woman was trying to distract her and she hated to admit it, but it was working.
"Sergeant Elliot is my right hand man, the most trusted member of my team. He is a skilled investigator and, barring illness or injury, having anyone other than him take the lead on investigations involving Major Crimes would look…suspicious and draw further attention to the matter."
Brenda let out a huff, arms still crossed defiantly.
"Do you really think I like the idea of Lieutenant Provenza of all people being privy to even vague insinuations about my personal life?!" Sharon asked, her tone rising sharply, displeasure dripping from every carefully-enunciated syllable of his name.
"That man has delighted in making my professional life more difficult for decades. Decades, Brenda. But if we're going to do this, if we're going to be…in a relationship and be each others' girlfriends or whatever we call ourselves, then we have to take steps to ensure the integrity of any future overlapping investigations. We can't risk someone using our personal relationship as ammunition to call our investigations or our professional conduct into question. That could mean overturning past cases and a very uncomfortable venture into the exact nature of our…interactions outside of the office."
"There are a lot of people on the force—some of your squad included—who would happily see me dragged through the mud over far less." Sharon sighed. "It has to be him, Brenda," she added more softly.
"Yes, okay, I know, Sharon. I know. Fine. Sergeant Elliot," the blonde conceded, "but for the record, I hate this whole thing."
Sharon pinched the bridge of her nose for what felt like the hundredth time. "As I believe I've said, I'm not particularly thrilled about this either. But given the choice between having to deal with a few surprised looks and uncomfortable questions asked in private by our trusted subordinates or not being able to…spend time with you outside of work, I will choose the former and brace myself for the inevitable array of pointed looks and inappropriate commentary from your lieutenant."
"But if it's too much for you," Sharon went on, "if having members of our teams find out is going to be…an issue for you," she paused and took a breath, letting it out a little shakily as she stared down at her hands, "Please, just tell me now."
Brenda reached a hand out for Sharon's and squeezed, but the brunette wouldn't meet her eyes as she continued speaking.
"Over the years, I've been called a 'dyke' by more members of the force than I can count, so it wouldn't really be anything new for them to find out it's actually true," she said, swallowing audibly. "If we're in this together, I'm all in. But I'm not interested in putting myself through all of this, in exposing my private life at work for angry officers to use against me, if I'm doing it alone. So, if you aren't sure, if you aren't ready for the rumor mill and the…shitstorm that is likely to hit as more people begin to put the pieces together…" she trailed off, taking another shaky breath.
"If you want to back out, this is the time, Brenda. This," she said, gesturing vaguely between them, "all of this is a lot. And I know you hate disappointing people, so you have a tendency to tell them what they want to hear, but I need you to be honest with me now. I'll understand if it's too much, but I need to know now, Brenda. We can…end this," she almost choked on the words, "and move on with our lives, and no one at work has to know anything ever happened between us…"
Brenda stared at Sharon's downcast eyes as she spoke, the words hitting her like a punch to the gut. She squeezed the brunette's fidgeting hands, trying to get her to meet her gaze, but Sharon's eyes remained fixed on their hands, her whole body rigid with tension as she braced herself for Brenda's response.
"Sharon," Brenda whispered, reaching a hand up to cup Sharon's cheek. Gently, she tilted the older woman's head upward before leaning in to press their lips together. After a moment of surprise, Brenda felt the brunette's posture shift and soften. Brenda smiled, taking the opportunity to deepen the kiss, to show Sharon how she felt, to reassure her, without words getting in the way.
When Brenda finally pulled back for air, Sharon still seemed hesitant to meet her gaze, like she somehow feared the kiss might be a goodbye.
"You're somethin' else, you know that?" the blonde said softly, affection curling around the words and lifting the corners of her mouth. Green eyes suddenly snapped up to meet her own, her body rigid again despite Brenda's thumb gently caressing the back of her hand.
"Not long ago, you were sittin' on this very couch all freaked out because you might be interested in a woman," Brenda went on, "and now, Miss I-can't-have-my-personal-life-and-work-life-mixin' is the one ready to march into work and tell them she's datin' a female coworker."
Sharon opened her mouth to interrupt, but Brenda continued, "I know—I know it's only because you have such a thing for followin' the rules, but still, that's pretty amazin' if you ask me."
Brenda squeezed Sharon's hand again and held her gaze, "I don't wanna end this, Sharon. I like bein' with you. I like it a whole lot. I don't wanna pretend like it never happened and move on."
She watched the tension melt from Sharon's body, relief flooding in as her words registered. The older woman sucked in a sudden breath, her eyes welling up with tears as she pressed a shaking hand to her chest. Sharon gasped for air, her chest heaving, the line between sobbing and hyperventilation blurring, and Brenda was frozen for a moment watching her try to regulate her body's reactions.
Despite Sharon's best efforts, a tear escaped, rolling down her cheek, the sight of which caused Brenda to lunge forward, pulling the other woman into a tight embrace. She could feel Sharon's whole body trembling as the adrenaline slowly faded.
"Hey now," she whispered softly in Sharon's ear. "Shhh, honey, it's okay," she said as she rocked them gently, one hand rubbing Sharon's back. "I'm not goin' anywhere."
Sharon finally nodded, pulling back enough to reach up and wipe at her eyes, but not leaving the blonde's embrace.
"You can't get rid of me that easily, Sharon Raydor," Brenda said, smiling when her words elicited a chuckle from the older woman.
"Hmmm," Sharon hummed, "No, you're far too stubborn for that." She took one more deep breath to steady herself, exhaling slowly and then said, "Okay."
. . .
Brenda stomped her way from her car to the building the next morning, the effort doing nothing to reduce the nervousness that seemed to grow exponentially as she approached. When she'd agreed to having this ridiculous, but apparently necessary, conversation with Lieutenant Provenza and Sergeant Elliot, she hadn't realized Sharon meant the very next day. Nor had she realized—although she probably should have, had she been thinking more clearly—that Sharon would send her home early, saying now that it was decided, they needed to hold off on any further fraternization until the proper steps had been taken at work. That woman and her rules…
Brenda understood it, really she did, and she appreciated that the sooner it happened, the sooner they could get back to their extracurricular activities, but she wouldn't be Brenda Leigh Johnson if she wasn't still somehow hoping to avoid the uncomfortable conversation altogether.
It was a strange combination, the nervous dread and the desire to get it over with already so she could once again have her tongue in Sharon's mouth, her body pressed against the nearest hard surface. The latter scenario providing the incentive she needed to continue with her usual morning routine until 10:15 am, when she and Provenza would head to FID for The Meeting.
Sharon had suggested the four of them meet so they could discuss it with their subordinates together at the same time. Partly to avoid any misunderstandings and make sure the Sergeant and Lieutenant understood they were expected to play nice—or at least remain civil—with one another, but in large part, it was so Sharon could ensure the conversation with Lieutenant Provenza actually took place.
She was well aware of Brenda's propensity for pushing things aside that she didn't want to deal with in favor of focusing on a case or whatever else she felt was more pressing in the moment. Sharon knew most of the time it wasn't even a conscious decision, but she'd seen it happen too often to kid herself into thinking this would be any different. Especially this. And they couldn't risk waiting until the next OIS or use of force complaint or, worse yet, until a disgruntled officer saw them out on a date somewhere and started throwing around accusations in the hopes of making things more difficult for her.
. . .
At 10:15 on the dot, well, maybe it was 10:16 or 10:17, Brenda wasn't quite sure, she and Lieutenant Provenza walked into FID to find Sharon and her Sergeant waiting just outside the door to her office.
"Good morning, Chief, Lieutenant," Sharon said in greeting, leading them into her office. "Thank you for agreeing to meet this morning on such short notice," Sharon cleared her throat as everyone took their seats, making sure the blinds and door were both firmly closed.
Brenda was unusually quiet, letting Sharon take the lead, not having any idea how to go about starting this particular conversation.
"Chief Johnson and I have a matter to discuss with you," Lieutenant Provenza crossed his arms, a bored, defiant look on his face, "but we'll try to keep this as brief as possible."
"There have been some…changes in the nature of our…interactions outside of the office that—"
"Changes," Sergeant Elliot repeated, his statement clearly intended as a question.
"Yes, Sergeant—"
"What interactions outside the—"
"Lieutenant!" Brenda interjected, causing everyone to stop and look at her. It was the first word she'd spoken since they'd entered FID.
"If y'all would just stop interruptin' for one minute..." she trailed off as she saw both men quiet down and nod.
"The thing is—I mean—W-what Cap'n Raydor was tryin' to say…Oh, for heaven's sake!" Brenda stammered, shifting her purse from her lap to the floor with a thud. "Goin' forward we need y'all to take point on any investigations involvin' our departments," the blonde finished, the words tumbling out in rapid succession.
"Yes. Thank you, Chief," Sharon confirmed.
"Chief?" "Captain?" the two men asked simultaneously, their faces filled with confusion as they looked first to one another and then to their respective bosses.
"Consider this change effective immediately," Sharon continued. "Is that understood?"
"Yes, Captain, of course, but—"
Sharon leaned forward, her elbows resting on her desk, hands tightly clasped as she tried not to reach for the comfort of her pockets.
"As I was saying earlier, the nature of the…relationship Chief Johnson and I have outside of this building has changed." Both men's eyes widened at her use of the word, however indirectly it was presented, and Lieutenant Provenza's mouth opened and closed several times like a fish.
"And as such, we are taking precautions to ensure the integrity of any future joint or overlapping investigations. There is no need for alarm," she said, looking pointedly at the Lieutenant, "we're simply making the necessary arrangements in order to avoid any questions regarding our conduct or the impartiality of future investigations."
"We realize this…situation—the details of which are not up for discussion," Sharon raised her eyebrow and shot an icy glare at both men before continuing, "We realize this may come as a bit of a surprise, and that you may be questioned by your fellow officers about the changes as new investigations arise. However, we hope we can count on your discretion," she said, looking from one man to the other, her cool expression betraying nothing of her inner turmoil. When both men nodded in understanding, Sharon gave a curt nod of her own.
"Well, now that that's settled," Brenda said, grabbing her purse and standing, "I believe we all have other more pressin' matters to attend to." Lieutenant Provenza practically jumped out of his chair to follow her, moving with far greater agility than any of them would have thought possible.
Brenda paused at the door, allowing the Lieutenant to step out first as she turned back to address her Captain and Sergeant Elliot, an overly-cheerful smile plastered across her face. "Thank you so much for your time. Bye now!"
"Chief Johnson," Sharon replied, nodding her head to the blonde, before dismissing her sergeant and turning her attention to her phone, which had just started to ring.
. . .
"Chief Johnson," Brenda snapped, answering her phone without raising her eyes from the paper she was currently reading to check the caller ID.
"Well, that went better than expected this morning," Sharon's voice sounded relieved on the other end of the line.
"Oh, hi," Brenda looked out her open blinds, scanning the room before she turned her attention to the phone. She shifted the receiver in her hand and sat back in her chair. "I s'pose so…although Lieutenant Provenza has been doin' an awful lot of grumblin' under his breath and he won't look me in the eye…"
"Hmmm…sounds fairly normal to me…" Sharon sassed. "Sergeant Elliot has been trying very hard to avoid ending up alone with me so he doesn't accidentally ask the questions he clearly wants to ask…," she chuckled, "but that's not actually why I called."
"It's not?"
"No. What are you doing for Thanksgiving? Are you going to Atlanta?"
"Lord no! I'm stayin' here. We'll probably end up catchin' a case anyway, you know how the holidays are."
"Hmmm, I do," Sharon said, nodding even though Brenda couldn't see her. "Emily called this morning. She's coming to LA!" Brenda could hear the excitement in her voice.
"She is? That's great news!"
"It is! It's a rare occasion when I get to have both of my children home at the same time." She paused, "I was thinking…if you're not going to Atlanta, maybe you'd like to join us?"
"Oh, I, um…are you sure?" Brenda asked, suddenly terrified, but not wanting to dampen the older woman's excitement, "I wouldn't want to intrude on your time with your kids or anythin—"
"Hey, Chief?" Gabriel called, knocking on the frame before sticking his head in the partially opened door, the interruption loud enough to be heard through the phone. "Oh, uh…"
"I'll be there in a minute, Sergeant," Brenda said before returning her attention to the phone.
"We can talk more about it later," Sharon said first, not wanting to keep her, "but I would really like for you to come."
"I have to go, Sharon," Brenda said, already looking toward the murder room.
"I know, I heard. I'll talk to you later."
"Bye now," Brenda hung up the phone, relief flooding her system. She exited her office and made her way over to her Sergeant for an update, the conversation with Sharon already fading into the background.