Laws of Attraction - Chapter Forty-Three: No Time Like the Present [Part Four]
Title: Laws of Attraction
Author: Major Roon
Fandom: The Closer
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Rating: NC-17/M
“We had this gorgeous hotel right on the beach,” he said. “And there was barely anybody there, off season and all...”
Sharon nodded.
“I wish we could’ve gone there for Christmas. Who needs Palm Springs anyway?”
The brunette blinked, absorbing what Jonathan had just said, but the first half of the conversation seemed to be elusively absent.
Did he say Maui?
“Sharon?”
They were on a first name basis, agreed upon during Willie Rae’s beautiful Christmas dinner.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should call your kids? Since you’re not really with it anyway.” He nipped on his faux-champagne. “I can’t believe she made us all late for Christmas...again.”
Sharon smirked and glanced at Brenda who was conversing with her husband in a corner.
“Now you know what that feels like as well. It’s like an initiation into the Miss Atlanta all work, no play club.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining. She gave me some of my best cases...I might apply for Chief Medical Examiner next year.”
“That’s great.”
Jonathan wrinkled his nose. “You don’t really like her, do you?”
“I’m gay.”
Sharon held her breath for a moment, thankful for the table she was leaning against. Jonathan just stared at her and she was pretty sure that her facial expression didn’t match any emotion known to mankind; actually, what she felt at that moment was indeed indescribable.
Perhaps Brenda’s laconic and succinct reaction had spoiled her a bit - of course she had to say nice things, with them being in the same bed and all, barely clothed at that - and Sharon had hoped for a similar one from Dr. Morales, with him being gay and all himself.
Instead he just looked at her, surprised perhaps but confused.
Sharon grimaced - she should stop blabbing at the most inopportune moments.
“Ha,” Jonathan finally said, putting a smile on his face, “Me too.” He waved her off and gulped his drink.
Sharon heard him swallow, her gaze on Brenda, cursing her very existence.
“Welcome to the club. I didn’t peg you for one of us but hey, the more the merrier, right?”
The brunette nodded and relaxed a bit, still staring contemplatively. She basked in the brief moment of relief, of happiness, of carefreeness, before she looked back at her companion and smiled.
“Not as merry as I would like.” She glanced at her clock. “Thirteen hours and twenty-two minutes until I get to see my family.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you still going to drive to Palm Springs?”
He looked torn then shrugged. “I guess I should go, face the parents...”
“You should,” Sharon patted his shoulder. “You’re a doctor, no parent can say no to that.”
“Right. I’m a doctor for dead people and have extra parts, which makes me doubly weird.” He shook his head. “My boyfriend’s been out for all of a year which makes it even harder.”
The brunette sighed gently and thought of her own coming-out, or lack thereof. Telling Brenda was a bit of a no brainer, telling Jonathan, well, it was progress, wasn’t it?
Honestly, Sharon thought, she wasn’t even entirely sure whether she wanted people to know. Not because she was ashamed - which she perhaps still was, a little - but because of the simple fact that she didn’t like people in her business.
She would have to figure that out.
“You know, if you ever wanted to go out with us...”
The question hung in the air for a moment; Sharon smirked and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t go out to clubs, I go to museums.” She glanced at him over the rim of her glasses. “I won’t be any fun. And I could be your mother.”
“Not quite,” he said with a boyish grin, “Good genes.” He bumped his shoulder into hers. “We do go to the theatre once in a while, if that’s more to your liking?”
“I do love the theatre,” she poked him in the chest. “Theatre theatre and not movie theater.”
“I have been known to enjoy a movie or two, subtitled even--”
“Impressive,” Sharon mocked.
“But no, theatre, performing arts. You should come, we can show you all the best gay plays.”
How did he know? How did he figure out that she wasn’t all over the gay theatre, that she was out and had whole hoard of gay friends to go out with?
Perhaps her spooked expression gave her away. Perhaps she came across like a newbie.
She hated not knowing things. She hated not being good at what she was doing - even if it was being a lesbian.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Sharon gave him a slow nod. “I accept your invitation.”
“Perfect,” Jonathan smiled and glanced at his watch. “Well. I think I’ll hit the road.”
“You’re going to drive to Palm Springs now?” She asked, incredulous.
“No time like the present. Gosh, he’ll love the Armani watch I got for him...” He came closer and hugged her, surprisingly. “You take care and enjoy your time with your family.”
Sharon hugged back, opening her eyes that she hadn’t realized she had closed and glanced over his shoulder. She saw Brenda standing in that same corner still. Her husband was nowhere in sight.
The blonde stared right back at her.
Ha, Sharon thought, gloating inwardly, hoping Brenda knew now what it felt like to be on the outside for once.
“I’ll see you when I see you,” Jonathan let her go. “And call me.”
Sharon smiled and watched him leave, saying his goodbyes to everyone. The brunette kept an eye on Brenda, watching her interact with Dr. Morales, smiling at him politely, shaking his hand, wishing him a merry christmas.
Before the blonde could catch her gaze again, Sharon had turned on her heel and wandered off. She needed a moment. The brunette strode down the hall and into the ladies room where she stopped in front of the mirrors again, staring at herself.
She felt like she looked different, somehow.
Sharon swallowed heavily; she traced the outline of her lips with her gaze and studied the wrinkles surrounding her eyes.
She felt lighter, somehow.
The door burst open at the very moment she had that revelation and Brenda swept in, scowling.
Sharon rolled her eyes and made for a stall, hoping to avoid whatever was coming - she never knew with Brenda.
“Now, hold on,” the blonde drawled.
Sharon slowed down, despite herself and turned with a sigh. “Why are you following me?”
Brenda bit her lip, trying to hide a smirk. “I just wanted to see you before you left, is all.”
“Really?” She didn’t buy it, not one bit, and Brenda had to know, Sharon could tell from her innocent, wide-eyed expression. “What is the matter with you lately?”
“What do you mean?” The blonde almost screeched, hands on her hips and tapping her foot. “I could ask you the same thing,” she added lamely. “On second thought, we all know what the matter is with you anyhow.”
Sharon’s jaw almost dropped. “That is a low blow if I have ever seen one.”
“I’m sure Dr. Morales knows all about it now too. You wanna go and announce it over the speakers?”
“Now you’re being intentionally perverse.” Sharon put her hands on her hips as well. “Besides, whom I tell what is none of you business.”
“It is my business if it does concern me--”
“It doesn’t,” Sharon retorted evenly.
“--it does! It so does! We’re sleepin’ together--”
“And that gives you any prerogative how?”
Brenda pursed her lips, closer than Sharon would like her - funny how the other woman always turned out to be her enemy - then her expression changed to a satisfied smirk that Sharon wished she could get rid of and bury, never to be seen again.
“How am I s’posed to know whether I’m the only one or not? You did get quite cozy with Detective Mendoza if I remember correctly.”
That was it. Sharon took a deep breath, swallowing her initial reaction and turned around, unable to face the other woman. “Aren’t those the questions your husband should be asking?”
“Fritz,” Brenda said sharply. “His name is Fritz.”
“Well then,” Sharon turned back slowly. “Aren’t those the questions Fritz should be asking? And why in the world are you following me into the restroom when out there are all your colleagues, your parents, your husband, Fritz? Why? Do you want to get caught?”
Brenda’s shoulders dropped almost immediately, she looked defeated for the tiniest moment and it was that expression that remained in Sharon’s mind when the blonde shoved her into the stall and up against the wall, her lips latched upon her own, warm and soft yet forceful.
“Because,” Brenda’s lips looked bruised. “Because sometimes I can’t stand any of ‘em.”
Sharon blinked at the pitiful voice that made her heart ache yet annoyed her terribly.
“And because I won’t be seein’ you for the longest time and that just drives nuts.”
The brunette sighed - she was too old for this, too smart and, honestly, had seen and heard worse.
“I just...I just need...you.”
Sharon shook her head. “But why?”
Brenda said nothing, instead she just kissed her.
Brenda kissed her like she always did in the end, with a seemingly frantic hunger. Sharon often wondered what exactly went through the blonde's head, if Brenda, just like she did, vowed that it would be the last time, that she wouldn’t be doing this again, that they would stop.
Because they would, wouldn’t they? This time, for sure.
Or did she even care? Did the blonde not experience the struggle, the guilt over what they were doing?
Brenda bit her lip a little, Sharon could tell she wanted to really bite but didn't. There was always something nasty about the blonde, something mean and angry, as if a part of Brenda wanted to punish her.
Perhaps that was her conscience, the blonde had to have one, didn’t she?
Sharon despised whatever it was; it reminded her of her own short-comings, her own responsibility in this, her own guilt but she had felt utterly powerless and paralyzed, deserving of whatever was coming her way.
No more though - the thought had repeatedly swirled about in her head. No more.
No time like the present.
She had come to a point where she had realized that this, that Brenda, wasn't something she needed, it had become something she wanted.
Should she feel worse for letting it go on despite that?
Sharon had asked herself countless times in recent days.
As the blonde wrapped her fingers around Sharon’s wrist and pulled her hand from her hip down between her legs, she instinctively knew.
It felt great. It was what she was meant to be.
One last time, Sharon thought, also hoping that, once she was inside of her, making her come in the bathroom at the very place they worked at, she could safely say that they had broken even that last rule and it would make it easier to say goodbye.
But then Sharon remembered how all of this had started, how she had vowed to only admire from afar, how she had ended up proposing the woman, how she had ended up in front of her house and had sat there for almost an hour until her husband...until Agent Howard...Fritz...had left and had then proceeded to kiss the woman up against the counter.
They had ended up having sex after all and, topping it off, she had thrown caution to the wind and had invited her into her home.
They had broken all the rules and Sharon knew in the back of her mind that having sex in the women's bathroom wouldn't be the last grotesque and immoral thing they would end up doing.
It was never enough. There was always more.
“We can’t do that here!” Sharon yanked her hand away. “Are you mentally ill? Have you gone completely insane?” She wasn't sure whom she was talking to, Brenda or herself but Sharon felt a weight lift off her shoulders as the words flew from her lips.
Brenda stilled, her gaze sweeping about the grey stall for a moment, taking in the cold tiles, the empty toilet paper roll, the rather unbecoming color of the lights. “Maybe I have,” she whispered and wanted to lean forward against Sharon’s shoulder but Sharon couldn’t bear it.
Brenda didn’t deserve a shoulder to lean on, in fact, she already had one which made this even more inappropriate.
Sharon felt a deeply rooted anger towards the woman and wanted to lash out but breezed out of the stall and toward the sinks instead. “This is exactly why we can’t keep doing this.” She stared at herself and Brenda in the mirror as she grabbed a paper towel. “We have to quit before we can’t,” she said and wiped at her smudged lipstick.
She was angry but she didn’t yell, she seldom did and even though Brenda hadn’t gotten it in the beginning, Sharon was pretty sure that she did now - she was always quiet when she was mad, perhaps one of the most prominent leftovers of her childhood.
“Your parents are out there.” She narrowed her eyes a bit. “Your husband is out there.” She stared at Brenda, looking for some sort of reaction which never came.
“You’re right,” the blonde said and stepped out of the stall, shaking her head a little.
Sharon wanted to be a bitch and bring up her precious Daddy, just to get some sort of emotion out of her but Miss Atlanta was, if anything, a great liar, and whatever she was trying to hide behind her mask, Sharon wanted to belief that it was best not to know.
“Okay, well, we’ll go back to how things were before all this.”
“You mean open hostility, bitch fights and temper tantrums; the last of which clearly concerns only one of us.” Sharon lifted an eyebrow then rolled her eyes a little at the blonde’s glare. “After all, you’re now my friend Brenda.”
“Very funny,” the blonde retorted, “and all those stories my Mama’s told you? None of ‘em are true.”
“I’m sure,” Sharon said with one of her put on smiles. “Then let’s go out there and pretend that we’ve never seen each other naked.”
Brenda’s face fell a little, it was almost comical. She watched Sharon for a moment and the brunette allowed it, just this once, even though she despised scrutiny, ironically enough.
“Your family’s lovely.” She said and knew the blonde hadn’t expected that. “Your husband...” Sharon swallowed. “Fritz...is wonderful. He loves you and supports you no matter what you do.”
“What’s this,” Brenda interjected.
“What now?”
“I dunno.” The blonde shook her head, coming closer. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
Sharon blinked slowly, her eyes darting around the room then she tilted her head a little. “Nothing.”
“Nothin’?”
“It’s over.” Sharon felt the whole impact of her words only when she witnessed true emotion pass over Brenda’s face.
Disappointment, a moment of panic and, before she could divulge any more, a pleasant expression took over.
“Alright,” she said with a smile. “Fine.”
“Great,” Sharon responded enthusiastically. “Fantastic.” The brunette released a large breath and walked to the door, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. “I’ll see you out there.” She needed to leave.
“Yes...see you out there, Sharon...I mean, Cap’n Raydor.”
Sharon smirked, amused slightly and calmed by the sudden feeling that she had done the right thing.
“Merry Christmas, Brenda.”
She gave the blonde a smile, relieved yet weak in the knees.
But Brenda smiled back.
“Merry Christmas...”
THE END
Author's Note:
Yes, you're reading correctly - the end. I have decided to end Laws of Attraction here, it is just getting too big and, honestly, I just fancy writing something new. Now, the story doesn't end here, I can promise you that. I'm writing a sequel.
I have never written anything this long and I have never written anything that brought me as much joy as this. I want to thank everyone, all of you, for commenting, for reading, for sticking with it, for giving it a chance. tayryn thank you for pimping this fiction as much as you did, for your support and all the awesome reviews. fireflies_uk I thank you the mostest, you listened to me moan, you sat in silence while I wrote, which I think must be the most boring thing ever, you read every line, were my sounding board and never complained. You are the best.
Anyway. Thanks again, all you guys, and I'll see you soon with a sequel.
Author: Major Roon
Fandom: The Closer
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Rating: NC-17/M
“We had this gorgeous hotel right on the beach,” he said. “And there was barely anybody there, off season and all...”
Sharon nodded.
“I wish we could’ve gone there for Christmas. Who needs Palm Springs anyway?”
The brunette blinked, absorbing what Jonathan had just said, but the first half of the conversation seemed to be elusively absent.
Did he say Maui?
“Sharon?”
They were on a first name basis, agreed upon during Willie Rae’s beautiful Christmas dinner.
“Yes?”
“Maybe you should call your kids? Since you’re not really with it anyway.” He nipped on his faux-champagne. “I can’t believe she made us all late for Christmas...again.”
Sharon smirked and glanced at Brenda who was conversing with her husband in a corner.
“Now you know what that feels like as well. It’s like an initiation into the Miss Atlanta all work, no play club.” He shrugged. “Not that I’m complaining. She gave me some of my best cases...I might apply for Chief Medical Examiner next year.”
“That’s great.”
Jonathan wrinkled his nose. “You don’t really like her, do you?”
“I’m gay.”
Sharon held her breath for a moment, thankful for the table she was leaning against. Jonathan just stared at her and she was pretty sure that her facial expression didn’t match any emotion known to mankind; actually, what she felt at that moment was indeed indescribable.
Perhaps Brenda’s laconic and succinct reaction had spoiled her a bit - of course she had to say nice things, with them being in the same bed and all, barely clothed at that - and Sharon had hoped for a similar one from Dr. Morales, with him being gay and all himself.
Instead he just looked at her, surprised perhaps but confused.
Sharon grimaced - she should stop blabbing at the most inopportune moments.
“Ha,” Jonathan finally said, putting a smile on his face, “Me too.” He waved her off and gulped his drink.
Sharon heard him swallow, her gaze on Brenda, cursing her very existence.
“Welcome to the club. I didn’t peg you for one of us but hey, the more the merrier, right?”
The brunette nodded and relaxed a bit, still staring contemplatively. She basked in the brief moment of relief, of happiness, of carefreeness, before she looked back at her companion and smiled.
“Not as merry as I would like.” She glanced at her clock. “Thirteen hours and twenty-two minutes until I get to see my family.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Are you still going to drive to Palm Springs?”
He looked torn then shrugged. “I guess I should go, face the parents...”
“You should,” Sharon patted his shoulder. “You’re a doctor, no parent can say no to that.”
“Right. I’m a doctor for dead people and have extra parts, which makes me doubly weird.” He shook his head. “My boyfriend’s been out for all of a year which makes it even harder.”
The brunette sighed gently and thought of her own coming-out, or lack thereof. Telling Brenda was a bit of a no brainer, telling Jonathan, well, it was progress, wasn’t it?
Honestly, Sharon thought, she wasn’t even entirely sure whether she wanted people to know. Not because she was ashamed - which she perhaps still was, a little - but because of the simple fact that she didn’t like people in her business.
She would have to figure that out.
“You know, if you ever wanted to go out with us...”
The question hung in the air for a moment; Sharon smirked and lifted an eyebrow. “I don’t go out to clubs, I go to museums.” She glanced at him over the rim of her glasses. “I won’t be any fun. And I could be your mother.”
“Not quite,” he said with a boyish grin, “Good genes.” He bumped his shoulder into hers. “We do go to the theatre once in a while, if that’s more to your liking?”
“I do love the theatre,” she poked him in the chest. “Theatre theatre and not movie theater.”
“I have been known to enjoy a movie or two, subtitled even--”
“Impressive,” Sharon mocked.
“But no, theatre, performing arts. You should come, we can show you all the best gay plays.”
How did he know? How did he figure out that she wasn’t all over the gay theatre, that she was out and had whole hoard of gay friends to go out with?
Perhaps her spooked expression gave her away. Perhaps she came across like a newbie.
She hated not knowing things. She hated not being good at what she was doing - even if it was being a lesbian.
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
Sharon gave him a slow nod. “I accept your invitation.”
“Perfect,” Jonathan smiled and glanced at his watch. “Well. I think I’ll hit the road.”
“You’re going to drive to Palm Springs now?” She asked, incredulous.
“No time like the present. Gosh, he’ll love the Armani watch I got for him...” He came closer and hugged her, surprisingly. “You take care and enjoy your time with your family.”
Sharon hugged back, opening her eyes that she hadn’t realized she had closed and glanced over his shoulder. She saw Brenda standing in that same corner still. Her husband was nowhere in sight.
The blonde stared right back at her.
Ha, Sharon thought, gloating inwardly, hoping Brenda knew now what it felt like to be on the outside for once.
“I’ll see you when I see you,” Jonathan let her go. “And call me.”
Sharon smiled and watched him leave, saying his goodbyes to everyone. The brunette kept an eye on Brenda, watching her interact with Dr. Morales, smiling at him politely, shaking his hand, wishing him a merry christmas.
Before the blonde could catch her gaze again, Sharon had turned on her heel and wandered off. She needed a moment. The brunette strode down the hall and into the ladies room where she stopped in front of the mirrors again, staring at herself.
She felt like she looked different, somehow.
Sharon swallowed heavily; she traced the outline of her lips with her gaze and studied the wrinkles surrounding her eyes.
She felt lighter, somehow.
The door burst open at the very moment she had that revelation and Brenda swept in, scowling.
Sharon rolled her eyes and made for a stall, hoping to avoid whatever was coming - she never knew with Brenda.
“Now, hold on,” the blonde drawled.
Sharon slowed down, despite herself and turned with a sigh. “Why are you following me?”
Brenda bit her lip, trying to hide a smirk. “I just wanted to see you before you left, is all.”
“Really?” She didn’t buy it, not one bit, and Brenda had to know, Sharon could tell from her innocent, wide-eyed expression. “What is the matter with you lately?”
“What do you mean?” The blonde almost screeched, hands on her hips and tapping her foot. “I could ask you the same thing,” she added lamely. “On second thought, we all know what the matter is with you anyhow.”
Sharon’s jaw almost dropped. “That is a low blow if I have ever seen one.”
“I’m sure Dr. Morales knows all about it now too. You wanna go and announce it over the speakers?”
“Now you’re being intentionally perverse.” Sharon put her hands on her hips as well. “Besides, whom I tell what is none of you business.”
“It is my business if it does concern me--”
“It doesn’t,” Sharon retorted evenly.
“--it does! It so does! We’re sleepin’ together--”
“And that gives you any prerogative how?”
Brenda pursed her lips, closer than Sharon would like her - funny how the other woman always turned out to be her enemy - then her expression changed to a satisfied smirk that Sharon wished she could get rid of and bury, never to be seen again.
“How am I s’posed to know whether I’m the only one or not? You did get quite cozy with Detective Mendoza if I remember correctly.”
That was it. Sharon took a deep breath, swallowing her initial reaction and turned around, unable to face the other woman. “Aren’t those the questions your husband should be asking?”
“Fritz,” Brenda said sharply. “His name is Fritz.”
“Well then,” Sharon turned back slowly. “Aren’t those the questions Fritz should be asking? And why in the world are you following me into the restroom when out there are all your colleagues, your parents, your husband, Fritz? Why? Do you want to get caught?”
Brenda’s shoulders dropped almost immediately, she looked defeated for the tiniest moment and it was that expression that remained in Sharon’s mind when the blonde shoved her into the stall and up against the wall, her lips latched upon her own, warm and soft yet forceful.
“Because,” Brenda’s lips looked bruised. “Because sometimes I can’t stand any of ‘em.”
Sharon blinked at the pitiful voice that made her heart ache yet annoyed her terribly.
“And because I won’t be seein’ you for the longest time and that just drives nuts.”
The brunette sighed - she was too old for this, too smart and, honestly, had seen and heard worse.
“I just...I just need...you.”
Sharon shook her head. “But why?”
Brenda said nothing, instead she just kissed her.
Brenda kissed her like she always did in the end, with a seemingly frantic hunger. Sharon often wondered what exactly went through the blonde's head, if Brenda, just like she did, vowed that it would be the last time, that she wouldn’t be doing this again, that they would stop.
Because they would, wouldn’t they? This time, for sure.
Or did she even care? Did the blonde not experience the struggle, the guilt over what they were doing?
Brenda bit her lip a little, Sharon could tell she wanted to really bite but didn't. There was always something nasty about the blonde, something mean and angry, as if a part of Brenda wanted to punish her.
Perhaps that was her conscience, the blonde had to have one, didn’t she?
Sharon despised whatever it was; it reminded her of her own short-comings, her own responsibility in this, her own guilt but she had felt utterly powerless and paralyzed, deserving of whatever was coming her way.
No more though - the thought had repeatedly swirled about in her head. No more.
No time like the present.
She had come to a point where she had realized that this, that Brenda, wasn't something she needed, it had become something she wanted.
Should she feel worse for letting it go on despite that?
Sharon had asked herself countless times in recent days.
As the blonde wrapped her fingers around Sharon’s wrist and pulled her hand from her hip down between her legs, she instinctively knew.
It felt great. It was what she was meant to be.
One last time, Sharon thought, also hoping that, once she was inside of her, making her come in the bathroom at the very place they worked at, she could safely say that they had broken even that last rule and it would make it easier to say goodbye.
But then Sharon remembered how all of this had started, how she had vowed to only admire from afar, how she had ended up proposing the woman, how she had ended up in front of her house and had sat there for almost an hour until her husband...until Agent Howard...Fritz...had left and had then proceeded to kiss the woman up against the counter.
They had ended up having sex after all and, topping it off, she had thrown caution to the wind and had invited her into her home.
They had broken all the rules and Sharon knew in the back of her mind that having sex in the women's bathroom wouldn't be the last grotesque and immoral thing they would end up doing.
It was never enough. There was always more.
“We can’t do that here!” Sharon yanked her hand away. “Are you mentally ill? Have you gone completely insane?” She wasn't sure whom she was talking to, Brenda or herself but Sharon felt a weight lift off her shoulders as the words flew from her lips.
Brenda stilled, her gaze sweeping about the grey stall for a moment, taking in the cold tiles, the empty toilet paper roll, the rather unbecoming color of the lights. “Maybe I have,” she whispered and wanted to lean forward against Sharon’s shoulder but Sharon couldn’t bear it.
Brenda didn’t deserve a shoulder to lean on, in fact, she already had one which made this even more inappropriate.
Sharon felt a deeply rooted anger towards the woman and wanted to lash out but breezed out of the stall and toward the sinks instead. “This is exactly why we can’t keep doing this.” She stared at herself and Brenda in the mirror as she grabbed a paper towel. “We have to quit before we can’t,” she said and wiped at her smudged lipstick.
She was angry but she didn’t yell, she seldom did and even though Brenda hadn’t gotten it in the beginning, Sharon was pretty sure that she did now - she was always quiet when she was mad, perhaps one of the most prominent leftovers of her childhood.
“Your parents are out there.” She narrowed her eyes a bit. “Your husband is out there.” She stared at Brenda, looking for some sort of reaction which never came.
“You’re right,” the blonde said and stepped out of the stall, shaking her head a little.
Sharon wanted to be a bitch and bring up her precious Daddy, just to get some sort of emotion out of her but Miss Atlanta was, if anything, a great liar, and whatever she was trying to hide behind her mask, Sharon wanted to belief that it was best not to know.
“Okay, well, we’ll go back to how things were before all this.”
“You mean open hostility, bitch fights and temper tantrums; the last of which clearly concerns only one of us.” Sharon lifted an eyebrow then rolled her eyes a little at the blonde’s glare. “After all, you’re now my friend Brenda.”
“Very funny,” the blonde retorted, “and all those stories my Mama’s told you? None of ‘em are true.”
“I’m sure,” Sharon said with one of her put on smiles. “Then let’s go out there and pretend that we’ve never seen each other naked.”
Brenda’s face fell a little, it was almost comical. She watched Sharon for a moment and the brunette allowed it, just this once, even though she despised scrutiny, ironically enough.
“Your family’s lovely.” She said and knew the blonde hadn’t expected that. “Your husband...” Sharon swallowed. “Fritz...is wonderful. He loves you and supports you no matter what you do.”
“What’s this,” Brenda interjected.
“What now?”
“I dunno.” The blonde shook her head, coming closer. “I don’t know what you want from me.”
Sharon blinked slowly, her eyes darting around the room then she tilted her head a little. “Nothing.”
“Nothin’?”
“It’s over.” Sharon felt the whole impact of her words only when she witnessed true emotion pass over Brenda’s face.
Disappointment, a moment of panic and, before she could divulge any more, a pleasant expression took over.
“Alright,” she said with a smile. “Fine.”
“Great,” Sharon responded enthusiastically. “Fantastic.” The brunette released a large breath and walked to the door, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. “I’ll see you out there.” She needed to leave.
“Yes...see you out there, Sharon...I mean, Cap’n Raydor.”
Sharon smirked, amused slightly and calmed by the sudden feeling that she had done the right thing.
“Merry Christmas, Brenda.”
She gave the blonde a smile, relieved yet weak in the knees.
But Brenda smiled back.
“Merry Christmas...”
THE END
Author's Note:
Yes, you're reading correctly - the end. I have decided to end Laws of Attraction here, it is just getting too big and, honestly, I just fancy writing something new. Now, the story doesn't end here, I can promise you that. I'm writing a sequel.
I have never written anything this long and I have never written anything that brought me as much joy as this. I want to thank everyone, all of you, for commenting, for reading, for sticking with it, for giving it a chance. tayryn thank you for pimping this fiction as much as you did, for your support and all the awesome reviews. fireflies_uk I thank you the mostest, you listened to me moan, you sat in silence while I wrote, which I think must be the most boring thing ever, you read every line, were my sounding board and never complained. You are the best.
Anyway. Thanks again, all you guys, and I'll see you soon with a sequel.