Rainbows & Unicorns
Title: Rianbows & Unicorns
Rating: K
Fandom/Pairing: The Closer; Raydor/Johnson
Word Count: 4,710
Author’s Note: This story was written especially for outuendo_11 on the occasion of her birthday. She indirectly gave me promps, which included unicorns, cake, and giant flashy jewelry. I did not get them all L
This is the first time I have written a story this long and I could easily spend months editing it, and probably should! But her birthday is today so, post I must! I apologize for its rough state and promise I will work on improving my fanfiction skills before subjecting you to anything else this long.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to James Duff and the people at TNT. No copyright infringement intended. Thanks for letting me play.
All Sharon Raydor could think about was a glass of bourbon, a warm bath, and maybe that last Dominican cigar her ex-partner had given her for Christmas. God, she loved that woman for indulging her one unhealthy vice. Sharon would gladly take an entire stock of Diamond Crowns but the expensive cigars were hard to come by and she supposed her lungs appreciated that fact.
At the moment though, Sharon really wished she had more than one cigar left because if she didn’t get out of Parker Center in the next ten minutes, she was going to need more than a stiff drink to get through the rest of the night.
She should have spent the day nestled in her office, completing the paperwork that would clear a good Officer’s name, but Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson and her team of stooges made it their personal mission to screw the FID Captain at every turn. She’d been dancing around the Major Crimes division for 48 hours, and had finally been forced along with another one of Chief Johnson’s ill-advised sting operations that had left Sharon Raydor unable to storm out of this building under her own power like she so very much wanted right now.
“Captain Raydor,” the honey-sweet voice drew out her name and Sharon refused to turn in acknowledgement, even if she could have. “I am so sorry about your back. I really wish you’d let us escort you to the hospital. I’m sure they could fix you up real nice.”
“Or knock you out,” Sharon heard Provenza mutter across the room.
Brenda Leigh moved around the desk Captain Raydor was currently resting against and Sharon fixed the blonde with a withering glare.
“Thank you for your concern, Chief, but I do not need to go to the hospital. What I need is your completed paperwork so that I can finish my report and go home.”
Sharon was positive the look on the Chief’s face could only be described as a pout but she was loath to acknowledge the tingly sense of guilt that inspired in her stomach.
She would not apologize for being short with the woman who had dragged her all around Los Angeles and placed her in the position of apprehending a suspect, without backup in a chase that ended in her favorite black pumps scuffed and broken, her suit ripped on God knows what, and her back now clenching spasmodically every ten seconds. Her only consolation were the looks on Brenda’s teams faces when they finally caught up to her cuffing the bulky man lying prone on the asphalt under her knee. She had gingerly stood up, turned to Flynn and Provenza and told them, “He’s all yours Lieutenants. Make sure he gets back in one piece. I would prefer to close one FID case before I have to open another.” She had then brushed past their stunned faces, chin high, limping, with one broken heel catching on each step, over to the police cruisers now pulling up along the curb.
“Well Captain…I…I’m sure my team is working just as fast as they can to meet your deadline.” Sharon had momentarily forgotten the woman standing before her, lost in remembering the disaster of today’s events. The reality was, aside from the fact that she had needed to take down a suspected murderer twice her size after the Major Crimes team had let him run out the front door of the building they were searching, everything had gone exactly as it should have - She had called for backup, given chase, and apprehended the suspect without putting so much as a scratch on him. Running in heels had been her own stupidity and she supposed she shouldn’t blame that on Chief Johnson…too much.
“Thank you, Chief, I am sure your team is doing everything they can to wrap things up.” Chief Johnson was taken aback by the sudden softening of Captain Raydor’s voice and the visible slouch in her posture.
Moved to reciprocate the change in demeanor, Brenda said, “Captain, I’m sure Chief Pope can wait one more day for your FID report. Why don’t you go on home and relax. I’ll make sure my team has everything you need on your desk first thing in the morning.” She smiled sweetly at the brunette who stared back with a mixture of bemusement and despondency.
“I would love to do that Chief Johnson. However, it is late, my own team has already left for the day and I am currently in no condition to drive.” Sharon hated having to admit a weakness but between the spasms racking her frame and the Vicodin she had swallowed on the way back to the precinct, she knew getting behind the wheel of her car was a bad idea.
“Oh…well, of course. I’ll just have one of my detectives take you on home!” Brenda responded brightly. She turned to look around the Major Crimes division only to discover every member of her team suddenly diligently working at their desks. “Sergeant Gabriel…”
Gabriel looked like a rabbit caught in the garden trap, pleading for clemency. “Um…Sorry, Chief, but, uh… well, I still have another few hours of work to do here and if you want this stuff on the Captains desk in the morning…”
Chief Johnson looked around the room and recognized a similar desperation emanating from each member of her team. Turning back to the Captain, she plastered a wide southern smile on her face.
“Well, it would seem my team wants to help you out just as much as I do, Captain Raydor. So I guess that leaves me.”
“You?” Sharon asked incredulously. Not only did she not trust the Deputy Chief’s driving but she very much did not want to be alone with the petite woman for the 30 minute drive to her home. She could not handle another second of sugar-coated disdain from the woman who haunted her dreams. Not today of all days.
But Chief Johnson had already spun on her pink kitten heels to retrieve her matching coat and monstrous black bag from her office.
Sharon reluctantly eased off the desk and was immediately thankful for the spare flats she kept in her office. She would have to mourn her Louboutins later, but right now she couldn’t imagine walking out of here in 4-inch heels. As it was, her posture was slouched and her gait unsteady as she followed the petite blonde out of Major Crimes to the elevator.
The two women were silent on the ride down, each wishing the elevator would move faster as they stood as far apart as the small space allowed.
Brenda wasn’t terribly upset at having to take the Captain home. In fact, she was rather looking forward to getting a glimpse of the reserved woman’s private life. She hoped Raydor didn’t live in one of those terrible hi-rise condos. She had once assumed the well-dressed Captain would appreciate the cold simplicity of a managed building - marble lobby, a bellhop, maybe even one of those sophisticated video doorbell thingies. But lately, she’d begun to hope the inordinate amount of time she spent fashioning her version of the Captain’s personal life was, well, wrong. Sharon Raydor had been surprising the Deputy Chief at more than a few turns recently and now she was getting her first chance to see for herself what kind of life the Captain lived beyond the straight lines of FID.
Outside Parker Center, Sharon was pleased to discover the Deputy Chief did not rank a parking spot in the connecting lot but, like most of the LAPD, was relegated several blocks away. That is until the added distance registered in her achy body.
“You know you’re awfully quiet without your death shoes,” Brenda teased, “Though I suppose I should be thankful for those heels. They give me advanced warning when I need to run.” The last part was a low mutter as she looked over her shoulder and realized the silence wasn’t just due to the Captain’s soft leather flats, but because, in fact, the Captain was at least six yards behind her.
Brenda stopped and watched the proud woman slowly make her way across the concrete walk. She’d never seen the Captain look so frail. Her ripped jacket was slung over one arm, there were wrinkles and stains on her usually creased pinstriped slacks, and her hair hung wild around her face. For the first time, Brenda ran through the events of the day and felt bad for her part in the Captain’s adventures.
“Captain, uh why don’t you just have a seat and I’ll bring the car around. No reason for both of us to go tramping all the way down the block.” Brenda tried to add cheer to her tone, afraid of the implication she was making about the Captain’s physical state. But Raydor didn’t seem to mind in the least. She caught the Chief’s eyes and gave a resigned nod of her head before walking to a nearby bench and easing down.
Brenda Leigh realized she was still standing there staring when the Captain caught her eyes again, this time with a raised-eyebrow expression that clearly said, “what the hell?” The Chief promptly turned with a huff and walked away.
Sharon released a heavy sigh and reached in her purse for her cell phone. Hitting a speed dial number she listened to an operatic ringback tone as she waited for her closest friend to answer.
“Ronnie, where are you?!” Gavin’s excited voice came over the line.
“At work, Gavin. Leaving late, as is usual whenever I butt heads with you-know-who.”
“Oh, Ronnie, you poor thing. Today of all days. Well it’s no matter, are you on your way home now? I have just the thing to cheer you up. It was supposed to be a surprise, but I know how much you hate surprises. So now I’ve warned you and you can’t say I don’t ever do anything nice for you. But I’m not telling you everything. I’m not that nice...” Sharon could hear the grin in his voice as he rattled on, not bothering to give her a chance to respond. She had expected Gavin would be up to something tonight but was suddenly wishing her best friend wasn’t quite so thoughtful.
“Gavin. Gavin! Be quiet!” Once Sharon had control of the conversation, she continued, “It’s been a really long day. I’m not really feeling up to any of your…surprises. Is it possible to postpone…”
“Oh no you don’t! You always want to weasel your way out of my plans but you always enjoy yourself. Don’t you? Well, don’t you?”
“Usually. Not always.” Sharon responded glumly.
“Well you will this time, I promise. And you won’t even have to leave the house. Just come on home and let me take care of you.” Sharon knew there was no way out of this. She had given Gavin a key to her house more than a decade ago. He didn’t use it often, late at night if he was fighting with his partner and needed a place to crash or occasionally to do something nice for Sharon like he seemed to be doing tonight.
“Alright Gav, you win. As usual. Just don’t expect me to be very chipper. I just took a magic pill that, if it doesn’t knock me out completely, is certainly going to dampen my spirit.”
“Well, then, no Johnny Walker for you. How sad. But I have lots of other ways to cheer you up! See you soon, and don’t waste another minute agonizing over that nemesis of yours.” Gavin hung up first and Sharon looked at the phone, muttering, “I wish it were that easy.”
A high pitched “woo hoo” came from the street and she looked up to see the object of her musings waving from a shiny sedan. Dropping her phone in her bag, Sharon pushed herself up using the bench’s armrest and limped over to climb in the passenger side of the Deputy Chief’s car.
After Sharon pointed the Deputy Chief in the right direction toward her home, the two women lapsed into silence. Chief Johnson was an unpredictable driver, alternatingly second-guessing herself at unprotected left turns and then speeding through yellow lights. Sharon sat stiffly on her side of the vehicle, grasping the armrest tightly. The pain medication was helping ease the spasming in her back but every time the car lurched unexpectedly, Sharon gasped at the sharp pain it caused. After 15 excruciating minutes, Chief Johnson finally started noticing the pattern and eased up on the gas pedal.
“Are you alright, Captain?” Chief Johnson asked worriedly.
“I will be, yes.” Sharon said through gritted teeth. “Thank you for bringing me home, Chief. I appreciate it.”
“Well, of course. Couldn’t have you sitting around the office all night, now could I?”
“I’m sure your team would have thought that hilarious.”
“Oh now Captain, we aren’t that bad, are we?” Brenda flashed a grin at her passenger.
Sharon stared at the woman next her, refusing to take the easy bait she’d just been given. Brenda Leigh Johnson was an enigma and Sharon Raydor hated her for it. She had decided long ago that southern charm was a deadly weapon that every law enforcement officer should be trained in. The Chief’s ability to deflect attention from scathing barbs with a bright smile and a thank you so much, never ceased to amaze the Captain. Sharon had thought, not so long ago, that she had finally become immune to the woman’s honey-sweet demeanor only to realize all she’d done was give into it completely. Somewhere during this whole Goldman debacle, Sharon Raydor had fallen for her exasperating superior.
She wasn’t proud of it. The woman was self-absorbed, single-minded, and headstrong. Oh, and a married heterosexual. Yes, there was that as well. Though Sharon was sure that mattered to her least. She didn’t actually want a relationship with the infuriating blonde. Just fodder for late night fantasies. And Chief Johnson’s bullheadedness gave her plenty to work with. She knew she should probably feel ashamed of the deviant way she used the woman sitting next to her but Gavin had long ago told her that as long as she separated fantasy from reality, there was no harm done. For once, Sharon was only too happy to take Gavin’s advice.
“It’s the next exit,” Sharon finally spoke into the silence of the vehicle. Brenda immediately cut across the dividing line between lanes, barely glancing back to insure she had an opening. She took the turn without slowing down and followed the Captain’s directions through the streets north of Santa Monica.
Sharon’s home was tucked into a hill on the eastern side of the PCH. Surrounded by the desert-like wilderness native to Los Angeles, the elevation of her home offered an unobstructed view of the Pacific Ocean and a footpath over the highway gave her access to the pristine beach below. Brenda Leigh was impressed.
“I’m not even going to ask how you afford a place like this.”
“My great-grandparents built this house before the Pacific Coast Highway was even conceived.” Brenda looked incredulous. “What, you thought I had connections to the mob?” Sharon said with a smirk.
“No! It’s just, I thought you were from the East Coast.”
“I was born in New York. Queens, actually. My parents incurred all sorts of Raydor wrath for that move. But I spent my childhood summers playing on this beach and when my grandparents died, they left the house to me. I couldn’t turn it down.”
This was more personal information than the Deputy Chief had ever heard Raydor voluntarily offer and she took a moment to process the new light in which it cast the buttoned-up Captain.
Brenda had always assumed Sharon Raydor was a transplant to LA. An outsider like herself. But it seemed, the Captain’s pristine dark suits were the only transplants - all the way from New York City. The woman herself, with her alabaster skin and sea glass eyes, had always had a claim to the streets of LA.
Raydor was quickly opening the door and swinging her legs out of the car but stopped halfway out and Brenda realized the woman’s back really was in bad shape. She rapidly threw the car in park and moved around the vehicle. When she reached out and took Sharon’s right arm to help her up, she was met with heavy sigh.
“Oh come on Capt’n. I don’t bite,” Brenda said in mock humor.
“No, but I wouldn’t put it past you to trip me on the way up the walk.” Despite her remark, Sharon was grateful for the assistance and leaned heavily on her petite superior as she exited the car and took the stairs to her front door.
Once on the porch, Sharon didn’t even have time to put her key to the lock before the front door sprang open and Gavin was there, “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, RONNIE!” He yelled loud enough to break several sound barriers.
Sharon groaned.
Brenda looked bewildered.
“Oh, look! You brought a friend!” Gavin said, taking Sharon’s purse and giving her a wink.
“No.” Sharon said, too quickly. “I mean, Chief Johnson was just kind enough to drive me home. I’m sure she wants to be heading home now.” Sharon glared back.
“Well, since she’s here, she must join the party.” Gavin grinned widely at Sharon and turned to Chief Johnson, raising his brows in an expectant invitation.
“Party?” Brenda asked looking between the two friends. “For Captain Raydor? Well…I.”
“Really, Chief, it’s not necessary. Thank you for the ride. I’m sure you have more important things to do tonight. Like being with your husband.”
Sharon’s assertive tone only served to irritate Brenda, who was beginning to enjoy seeing the unflappable Captain off her guard. She was also thoroughly intrigued by the implications of a close friendship between her ebullient lawyer and the stoic woman still leaning against her. Brenda Leigh was beginning to suspect there was far more to Captain Raydor than she had imagined. This little adventure could prove to be very informative, indeed.
“As it happens, Capt’n, Fritzi’s in San Diego on a case this weekend. My teams busy wrapping up our case and since you’re one of my only friends…,” Brenda grinned, “Well, it seems I’m exactly where I should be,” Brenda finished with a challenge in her brown eyes.
Before Sharon could come up with another retort, Gavin grabbed the Chief’s arm and escorted her inside Sharon’s home, throwing a smirk over his shoulder.
Sharon rolled her eyes and limped in behind the pair, knowing this night was going to get worse, much worse, before it got better.
Sharon kicked off her flats and set her torn jacket on the table by her front door. She can hear laughter and big band jazz floating through the French doors to her living room. She considered running for the back of the house and hiding in her bathroom but she’s never considered herself a coward before and isn’t going to start on account of Chief Johnson.
Nonetheless, Sharon makes a detour to the kitchen to pour herself a drink and allow her nerves to settle. Gavin has clearly been busy. He’s a terrific cook but horrible at cleaning up and her kitchen looks like a tornado hit. She’s sure, by the number of cars out front, that only a few of her close friends are here for the celebration but that only makes her more anxious about the Deputy Chief spending time in her home. Sharon’s close friends are not known for being low key and there are certain parts of her private life she would prefer to keep private.
Determined to rescue the dignity she is certain she’s losing more of every second, Sharon made her way to the living room but stopped dead in front of the glass doors.
Her warm, cozy living room, with shelves crammed full of books and deep leather furniture, has been completely transformed from its normal serenity. Streamers criss-cross the ceiling in a myriad of colors. Balloons are tied to each lamp and rainbow confetti is sprinkled on every flat surface.
In the middle of the room, surrounded by five of Sharon’s closest friends, including her ex-girlfriend, is an ornately decorated cake in the shape of a…no, he didn’t! He wouldn’t! But, of course he would.
Gavin never let a joke die. Three years previously, they’d shared a 20-hour flight from India with only two in-flight movies - a bollywood musical and a children’s cartoon about a magical unicorn. Since then, Gavin had found every opportunity to remind Sharon of the hours upon hours they’d spent giggling hysterically over the plight of the mythical creature. Sharon loved remembering how they’d very nearly been booted out of first class over the incident but she was not laughing now. Not with Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson ogling the sparkling frosting of her rainbow unicorn cake.
“Ronnie, get in here!” Gavin swung open the door and pulled her into the room.
“Gavin!” Sharon hissed.
“Oh hush, honey. The more the merrier!” Gavin knew Sharon was pissed at him for inviting Chief Johnson. He’d heard more than his share of Sharon’s venting over the intolerable work situation she faced whenever she crossed paths with the Deputy Chief. But in the past few months, he’d noticed a shift. And not just in his long time friend.
Both women seemed to now regard one another with something akin to admiration. Gavin knew Sharon respected the Chief’s work performance and ability to command a loyal team. And he suspected the Chief had begun to understand the value of Sharon’s rulebook, as it had lately begun to save her ass. But far too often, he saw something more than good regard pass in the looks the two women spared one another. Something he’d had confirmed on Sharon’s side when she’d had a few too many bourbons and revealed a particularly lurid fantasy of the Deputy Chief. She’d tried to laugh it off as an isolated occurrence but her tone had been laced with longing.
Now, he regarded the blond Chief, sandwiched between Sharon’s ex and his own partner. She was wide-eyed - clearly beginning to put two and two together as a particularly explicit conversation about sex toys swirled around her. He didn’t for a second believe it was a topic exclusive to queers but had a feeling Brenda was drawing an accurate assumption nevertheless. And if the way her gaze was raking over Sharon with a new openness was any indication, she wasn’t overly bothered by the new information she’d gleaned.
“Rainbows and unicorns, Gavin? Not exactly the way I wanted to be outed to the LAPD.” Sharon hissed under her breath.
“Good thing the LAPD isn’t here then,” Gavin tried placating. “Just Brenda Leigh Johnson, your favorite Deputy Chief. And if the way she’s looking at you with those hungry eyes is any indication, I’d say your secrets safe.”
Sharon’s eyes snapped to the Deputy Chief, who did indeed seem to be checking her out. It was unnerving to say the least. Despite her own…physical attraction…to the woman, she was not prepared for those sentiments to be returned.
Her attention was diverted when Anna stood next to the Chief and drew the party’s attention to Sharon’s arrival.
“There you are, Sharon! Get your ass over here so we can eat this adorable unicorn!”
Brenda stood too and moved out of the redhead’s way as she swallowed Sharon in a tight embrace. The hug seemed longer than necessary to the Chief who had spent the last five minutes trying to ooch away from the impossibly long legs pressed up against her. For a reason she couldn’t quite determine, she did not like the contralto voiced woman and released a breathe she hadn’t realized she was holding when Sharon was free of her arms and being passed around for hugs by the other guests.
Brenda was pushed out of the immediate circle and found herself next to her lanky lawyer. He grinned at her knowingly and winked.
“Can I get you a drink, Brenda? Merlot, right?”
“Oh no, please. I really should be going.” Brenda was suddenly very eager to be far away from this intimate gathering.
“Of course not!” Gavin exclaimed, wrapping his arm around the Chief. “You’re among friends. Besides, you haven’t tried my cake. I make goooood cake.”
Brenda eased out of Gavin’s embrace and caught Sharon’s eyes across the soft leather sofa. She still looked tired from the long day she’d had, but there was a new sparkle in her green eyes that made the corner of Brenda’s mouth lift slightly. Maybe she could…No. No, she didn’t belong here. These were clearly Sharon’s close friends. A special gathering on her birthday. The woman who antagonized Raydor at every turn had no place in this house. With one last look at the enigmatic woman engulfed amongst bright balloons, Brenda made her apologies to Gavin and bolted for the front door.
She was halfway down the walk when she heard her name being called in that husky voice she’d come to anticipate as much as fear.
“Brenda! Wait. Chief Johnson, please.” Sharon was barefoot on the porch when Brenda turned around. An awkward silence descended as the Captain fidgeted, trying to figure out what she’d run out of her party to say.
Brenda saved her the bother, “Captain, thank you so much for invitation, but I really should be getting back to the office. Make sure all that paperwork’s ready for you tomorrow. You go on and enjoy your party. Your friends went to an awful lot of trouble to make it special for you. Enjoy it.”
Sharon chose to ignore the fact that she hadn’t actually invited the Chief to anything, ”Look, Chief, I know this…” Sharon swung her arm to indicate the colorful party through the front window, “is, well, a lot to take in. My sexual-orien…”
“Is none of my business, Captain.” Brenda interrupted. “And I hope you know it certainly doesn’t change my opinion of you in the least.”
“Really? What exactly is your opinion of me?” Sharon regretted the question as soon as it had left her mouth. She regretted even more the beseeching tone it came out in.
Brenda was used to tough questions. She prided herself on not letting uncertainty or panic show when a suspect said something that threw her off trajectory, but standing in the cool breeze from the Pacific Ocean with Sharon Raydor barefoot and tousled before her, Brenda Leigh was momentarily at a loss.
“I’m sorry, Chief. That was…That wasn’t what I meant to say.”
“Maybe not, but it is a legitimate question, Captain.” Brenda responded quietly, earnestly. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer. At least not one I’m prepared to give you.”
“That is fair,” Sharon said diplomatically. “And honest. I appreciate that.”
“I really should be going, Captain.”
“It’s Sharon. Please.” Raydor smiled softly. “You’ve been in my home, met my closest friends, and become privy to my proclivity for unicorns, I think you can call me by my first name.”
“Yes, the unicorns. That was…fascinating.”
“It’s a long story.”
“I’m sure,” Brenda drawled.
“You really don’t have to leave,” Sharon whispered.
“I know. But I should.” Brenda shifted her weight from one foot to the other and let her gaze travel over the two-story house before settling back on Sharon Raydor. “Happy Birthday, Captain…Sharon. I hope you’re able to enjoy the rest of it. You deserve it.”
Brenda turned and walked to her car without looking back. Sharon Raydor stood on her porch, watching the sedan drive away, and whispered a soft, “Thank you,” into the wind.
She heard the door open behind her and turned to find Gavin holding her drink and an obscenely large red boa. He handed her the glass, wrapped the boa around her shoulders and leaned in to plant a kiss on her forehead.
“Come on Ronnie, let’s get this party started. You’re an entire year younger today!”
Sharon smiled widely for the first time in days and walked into the warmth created by unconditional friends.