(no subject)
Title: An Uncommon Proposal (2/?)
Spoilers: None
Rating: MA
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Summary: Brenda tries to apologize, but they are interrupted by a phone call, and an unexpected mix-up brings someone else into their bizarre situation.
Brenda
She stared at the place where Sharon used to be, shivering in the cold that had enveloped her with Sharon’s absence. She knew she needed to get up, to follow after the dark-haired woman, to explain herself, but she found she had no words to fix this situation, and no one to call on for help.
What could she possibly do? What could she say? Before this whole debacle had occurred, Brenda thought that Sharon might be a little miffed, might feel a little tawdry, but she never anticipated the anger that had rolled off the Captain in waves. And what worried her now, more than Sharon’s outburst, more than Fritz’s disappointment, more than her own confusion, was the possible source of all that anger. Why would it matter?
There were reasons why, of course, and as each of those possibilities dawned on Brenda, she became more and more concerned about the pile of shit she had just made of her relationship with Sharon. She crawled out of bed and tugged on her shirt, not bothering with the buttons before she rushed after her green-eyed Captain, hoping it wasn’t too late to fix what she had broken.
Sharon
Stupid, stupid, so stupid, what the hell were you thinking, stupid…
Sharon’s thoughts were a whirl of rage directed at no one but herself as she banged around her kitchen, making a pot of coffee regardless of the absurd hour. It was coffee or wine, and at this point she felt coffee was the better option. Even with her heart in pieces and her self-respect long forgotten, Sharon Raydor made the sensible choice.
Someone had to.
Sharon shook her head, trying to clear away the thoughts that wouldn’t leave her alone. Thoughts like what did you expect? Did you really think she would sacrifice her marriage for you? Did you really think you mattered that much to Brenda Leigh?
Of course Brenda wouldn’t risk losing Fritz over something as silly as sex with Sharon. The Captain just had tangible proof now that it was sex, and sex only, that the Chief was interested in. But why did that upset her so much?
What did she really want from Brenda, anyway?
Jesus, Sharon, don’t do this to yourself.
“Sharon?” Brenda’s voice sounded small and almost defeated, and it took every ounce of self-restraint Sharon had left not to turn around at the sound of it.
Don’t do this to yourself, Sharon. Don’t give in.
“Sharon, please, look at me.”
God damn it.
She turned around, and found Brenda leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing nothing but her panties and an unbuttoned shirt. She looked so perfect and so sad, and Sharon fought the urge to throw something. It’s all my fault. Wanting what I can’t have…
“I’m sorry,” Brenda said, and Sharon laughed.
“Please,” she said, turning back to her coffee, “You’re not sorry. You’re sorry I’m angry, you’re sorry things didn’t go like you planned, but you’re not really sorry. You don’t even know why I’m upset, do you?”
There was a soft sound from somewhere behind her. She’s actually crying.
“You got what you wanted, Chief. Now I think it’s time for you to go.”
Please go. Please leave before I do something I’m going to regret. Like pull you close and tell you it’s ok.
“I don’t want to go, Sharon,” Brenda said, doing an admirable job of keeping her voice steady.
Sharon had her mouth open to say something clever about how you don’t always get what you want when the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the silence.
And that was the last thing Sharon needed right now. Sure, work would be a good excuse to get the hell out of this mess, but it would only be a temporary refuge, and lately Sharon had found that even at work she could not hide from Brenda. That woman had invaded every aspect of her life. Even now, if Brenda left and they never spoke of this again, it would be months before Sharon could sleep in her bed and not remember how it had felt to have Brenda Leigh sleeping next to her.
“I think that’s yours, Chief,” Sharon told her softly, taking a deep swig of her coffee. It was too hot and burned her tongue on the way down, but she didn’t care. Better to focus on that small physical pain than the ache that had developed in her heart.
“Please just stay here. I want to talk to you. Just stay,” Brenda said before rushing off for the front hallway where she had left her massive purse.
Stay? What am I, a dog? Stay?
Sharon followed her on quiet feet, clutching her too-hot mug of coffee in unsteady hands.
Brenda was standing by the front door, running her fingers through her tangled hair.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” she was saying, “I understand… ok… well how did he-“ the Lieutenant in question had clearly interrupted her, she had that expression on her face that Sharon had come to understand as her version of exasperation, “It sounds like you’ve got a good handle on the situation. You can manage everything until I get there…all right. Text me the address and I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
Brenda hung up and turned to face Sharon, clutching the phone in her hands.
Brenda
This was the last thing she needed right now. Work, and not just work, but what was shaping up to be a shit storm of a case, one that would involve Sharon’s team, too, and she hadn’t even had a chance to figure out what was happening between herself and the dark haired Captain. The dark haired Captain who was currently staring directly at her, radiant in her too-short robe and her mask of disinterest only just hiding the hurt in her deep green eyes.
You don’t even know why I’m upset, do you?
Sharon’s words had stung, because they carried the smallest grain of truth. Brenda wasn’t entirely sure why her confession had bothered Sharon so much. If Fritz knew that they were sleeping together, and he’d said it was ok, wasn’t that a good thing? Surely that meant they could carry on together and not worry about the consequences.
Didn’t it?
Was that not what Sharon wanted?
What did Sharon want?
“You’re probably going to get a call soon, too,” Brenda told her, hating for an instant the way she dove straight into work, forgetting the personal for the time being. That always bothered Fritz, and she had the sneaking suspicion it was going to bother Sharon, too.
Sharon just hummed and turned on her heel, heading for the bedroom. Brenda followed her, making a list of the things she needed to do. This conversation was going to have to wait.
They had just passed through the doorway, the second time that night they walked into Sharon’s bedroom together- although the mood was markedly different now- when Sharon’s phone did in fact begin to ring. Brenda tossed her cell onto the bed before she began digging around for her clothes, pulling them back on and only halfway listening to Sharon’s conversation.
The words seemed particularly terse, Sharon’s tone even more cold than usual, and Brenda felt a stab of guilt, knowing that she was responsible for it. She felt even more guilty when she caught herself trying to discreetly stare at Sharon as the Captain slipped out of her robe.
God she’s gorgeous, Brenda thought. Gorgeous and smart and strong, and I’ve hurt her.
Sharon hung up on whichever unfortunate member of her squad she’d been talking to, and dropped her phone on the bed next to Brenda’s. She sighed and went to her closet, shuffling through the expensive suits and pristine skirts, trying to get herself ready for the task ahead.
What do I do now? Brenda thought. They were going to the same crime scene, they were going to work together, they were going to have to figure this out. But what to do? What to say?
“Sharon?” she asked, testing the waters. She needed to know that this was ok, that they were ok. That whatever was between them wasn’t going to end tonight.
“You should go ahead and leave, Chief,” Sharon answered, not turning around as she slipped into a fresh pair of panties, and Brenda tried not to stare at the way the lace hugged her hips. If that was the kind of underwear Sharon wore to crime scenes at three in the morning, Brenda couldn’t imagine what she wore when she went out.
Actually, she could imagine, and the picture sent a thrill through Brenda’s spin, accompanied by another wave of guilt. She’d hurt this woman, and all she could think about was how beautiful she was, and how badly she wanted to hold her again. She wanted to go back in time, to the start of the night, when everything was working the way it should and they were just together and she had felt… damn it, she had felt free.
“We shouldn’t arrive too close together,” Sharon said.
Damn her for always being right.
Brenda was already dressed, anyway. There was no point in waiting around for Sharon.
“All right. I’ll see you there, Sharon,” Brenda told her. That woman could call her “Chief” as much as she wanted to, but Brenda had caught a glimpse of the real Sharon, and she wasn’t going to lose her to the aloof Captain Raydor again. Brenda picked up her phone off the bed, and headed out of the bedroom, hoping for a response that never came.
Sharon
Sharon slipped into her heels and grabbed her phone, forcing herself to move a little slower than usual to give Bren- the Chief a head start. She contemplated taking her coffee with her, but decided against it. She didn’t trust her hands to stay steady enough to drink it in the car without spilling it on herself.
She was almost out of the bedroom when she noticed it, a scrap of black cloth peeking out from under the corner of her bed.
Oh for the love of God, she thought as she bent down to pick it up.
Brenda’s underwear. The woman had run off without her goddamn panties.
Sharon found herself faced with a dilemma. She could either slip them in her purse and try to find a moment to discreetly pass them back to the Chief, or she could leave them here, and make Brenda come pick them up, though that would mean giving the blonde an excuse to come back to her house, and Sharon absolutely did not want that. She felt like a first class fool for the way she had allowed herself to behave, and her wounded pride wouldn’t let her so much as entertain the notion of bringing Brenda back to her home. With a sigh she decided to take the panties with her, and slipped them into her bag before heading out the door.
Sergeant Elliot had sent her directions to the crime scene, and so she climbed into her car, trying to pretend that she was ready for whatever was ahead. She would be professional, she would remain calm, she would not let her personal life affect her job.
She couldn’t let it affect her job.
Andy
The Chief still wasn’t there, and he was getting antsy. The media circus had shown up almost the same time he had, and between wrangling the Major Crimes squad, trying to keep FID out of the way, and the reporters shouting at him, his nerves were shot. He needed the Chief, and he needed her now, if for no other reason than that all of these problems could be dumped onto her, and he could get back to actually doing his job. He fished his phone out of his pocket and called her, hoping she hadn’t gotten lost. Her sense of direction had improved greatly over the last few years, but he still had his doubts in her abilities.
“Raydor,” a familiar voice answered, and Andy jumped, pulling his phone away from his ear and staring at it in horror. He had called the right number, so why in the hell had the Captain answered?
“Sharon?” he asked, her first name slipping out as it sometimes did when he was too surprised to remember that they weren’t supposed to be friends anymore.
“Andy?” she responded, sounding equally shocked. “Did you need something?”
“I needed the Chief. Why the hell are you answering her phone?”
“Shit,” she said softly, so softly he almost missed it. “Shit,” she said again, a little louder this time.
He checked his watch. Just after three on a Friday morning, and Sharon was answering the Chief’s phone? Andy couldn’t exactly picture them going out for a friendly drink, or really doing anything that would explain them being in the same place at this time of night besides work, and neither of them had arrived at the crime scene yet.
And then it dawned him, the only possible explanation, not just for this night, but for all the nights that had come before it, for the tension and the lingering glances and the way Sharon had, every once in a while, let down her guard and he had caught sight of an expression he had not seen on her face for many years. They had been close, once, and he knew her as well as anyone. Probably better than anyone, these days, and he had often caught himself wondering if perhaps the Captain wasn’t a bit smitten with the Deputy Chief. Never mind that Brenda was so not her type; Sharon generally went for taller women, redheads usually, who liked classical music and expensive wine and talked about foreign films. Women more like Sharon herself. Women who were not married.
There was no way she was sleeping with the Chief, right?
“Sharon, what the hell-“
“Andy, please, just don’t tell anybody, I’m almost there,” she sounded a little desperate, and a lot tired, and he found himself wishing she were here. The answers to his questions would have been written all over her face for Andy, who was one of the few people in the world who could actually see past her defenses.
“I just hope for your sake you weren’t doing what I think you were doing,” he told her. She huffed and hung up, leaving him staring at the glowing screen of his cell phone.
God I hope she wasn’t doing what I think she was doing.
She deserved so much better than that, and he was going to tell her so as soon as he saw her.
Spoilers: None
Rating: MA
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Summary: Brenda tries to apologize, but they are interrupted by a phone call, and an unexpected mix-up brings someone else into their bizarre situation.
Brenda
She stared at the place where Sharon used to be, shivering in the cold that had enveloped her with Sharon’s absence. She knew she needed to get up, to follow after the dark-haired woman, to explain herself, but she found she had no words to fix this situation, and no one to call on for help.
What could she possibly do? What could she say? Before this whole debacle had occurred, Brenda thought that Sharon might be a little miffed, might feel a little tawdry, but she never anticipated the anger that had rolled off the Captain in waves. And what worried her now, more than Sharon’s outburst, more than Fritz’s disappointment, more than her own confusion, was the possible source of all that anger. Why would it matter?
There were reasons why, of course, and as each of those possibilities dawned on Brenda, she became more and more concerned about the pile of shit she had just made of her relationship with Sharon. She crawled out of bed and tugged on her shirt, not bothering with the buttons before she rushed after her green-eyed Captain, hoping it wasn’t too late to fix what she had broken.
Sharon
Stupid, stupid, so stupid, what the hell were you thinking, stupid…
Sharon’s thoughts were a whirl of rage directed at no one but herself as she banged around her kitchen, making a pot of coffee regardless of the absurd hour. It was coffee or wine, and at this point she felt coffee was the better option. Even with her heart in pieces and her self-respect long forgotten, Sharon Raydor made the sensible choice.
Someone had to.
Sharon shook her head, trying to clear away the thoughts that wouldn’t leave her alone. Thoughts like what did you expect? Did you really think she would sacrifice her marriage for you? Did you really think you mattered that much to Brenda Leigh?
Of course Brenda wouldn’t risk losing Fritz over something as silly as sex with Sharon. The Captain just had tangible proof now that it was sex, and sex only, that the Chief was interested in. But why did that upset her so much?
What did she really want from Brenda, anyway?
Jesus, Sharon, don’t do this to yourself.
“Sharon?” Brenda’s voice sounded small and almost defeated, and it took every ounce of self-restraint Sharon had left not to turn around at the sound of it.
Don’t do this to yourself, Sharon. Don’t give in.
“Sharon, please, look at me.”
God damn it.
She turned around, and found Brenda leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing nothing but her panties and an unbuttoned shirt. She looked so perfect and so sad, and Sharon fought the urge to throw something. It’s all my fault. Wanting what I can’t have…
“I’m sorry,” Brenda said, and Sharon laughed.
“Please,” she said, turning back to her coffee, “You’re not sorry. You’re sorry I’m angry, you’re sorry things didn’t go like you planned, but you’re not really sorry. You don’t even know why I’m upset, do you?”
There was a soft sound from somewhere behind her. She’s actually crying.
“You got what you wanted, Chief. Now I think it’s time for you to go.”
Please go. Please leave before I do something I’m going to regret. Like pull you close and tell you it’s ok.
“I don’t want to go, Sharon,” Brenda said, doing an admirable job of keeping her voice steady.
Sharon had her mouth open to say something clever about how you don’t always get what you want when the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing broke through the silence.
And that was the last thing Sharon needed right now. Sure, work would be a good excuse to get the hell out of this mess, but it would only be a temporary refuge, and lately Sharon had found that even at work she could not hide from Brenda. That woman had invaded every aspect of her life. Even now, if Brenda left and they never spoke of this again, it would be months before Sharon could sleep in her bed and not remember how it had felt to have Brenda Leigh sleeping next to her.
“I think that’s yours, Chief,” Sharon told her softly, taking a deep swig of her coffee. It was too hot and burned her tongue on the way down, but she didn’t care. Better to focus on that small physical pain than the ache that had developed in her heart.
“Please just stay here. I want to talk to you. Just stay,” Brenda said before rushing off for the front hallway where she had left her massive purse.
Stay? What am I, a dog? Stay?
Sharon followed her on quiet feet, clutching her too-hot mug of coffee in unsteady hands.
Brenda was standing by the front door, running her fingers through her tangled hair.
“Yes, Lieutenant,” she was saying, “I understand… ok… well how did he-“ the Lieutenant in question had clearly interrupted her, she had that expression on her face that Sharon had come to understand as her version of exasperation, “It sounds like you’ve got a good handle on the situation. You can manage everything until I get there…all right. Text me the address and I’ll get there as soon as I can.”
Brenda hung up and turned to face Sharon, clutching the phone in her hands.
Brenda
This was the last thing she needed right now. Work, and not just work, but what was shaping up to be a shit storm of a case, one that would involve Sharon’s team, too, and she hadn’t even had a chance to figure out what was happening between herself and the dark haired Captain. The dark haired Captain who was currently staring directly at her, radiant in her too-short robe and her mask of disinterest only just hiding the hurt in her deep green eyes.
You don’t even know why I’m upset, do you?
Sharon’s words had stung, because they carried the smallest grain of truth. Brenda wasn’t entirely sure why her confession had bothered Sharon so much. If Fritz knew that they were sleeping together, and he’d said it was ok, wasn’t that a good thing? Surely that meant they could carry on together and not worry about the consequences.
Didn’t it?
Was that not what Sharon wanted?
What did Sharon want?
“You’re probably going to get a call soon, too,” Brenda told her, hating for an instant the way she dove straight into work, forgetting the personal for the time being. That always bothered Fritz, and she had the sneaking suspicion it was going to bother Sharon, too.
Sharon just hummed and turned on her heel, heading for the bedroom. Brenda followed her, making a list of the things she needed to do. This conversation was going to have to wait.
They had just passed through the doorway, the second time that night they walked into Sharon’s bedroom together- although the mood was markedly different now- when Sharon’s phone did in fact begin to ring. Brenda tossed her cell onto the bed before she began digging around for her clothes, pulling them back on and only halfway listening to Sharon’s conversation.
The words seemed particularly terse, Sharon’s tone even more cold than usual, and Brenda felt a stab of guilt, knowing that she was responsible for it. She felt even more guilty when she caught herself trying to discreetly stare at Sharon as the Captain slipped out of her robe.
God she’s gorgeous, Brenda thought. Gorgeous and smart and strong, and I’ve hurt her.
Sharon hung up on whichever unfortunate member of her squad she’d been talking to, and dropped her phone on the bed next to Brenda’s. She sighed and went to her closet, shuffling through the expensive suits and pristine skirts, trying to get herself ready for the task ahead.
What do I do now? Brenda thought. They were going to the same crime scene, they were going to work together, they were going to have to figure this out. But what to do? What to say?
“Sharon?” she asked, testing the waters. She needed to know that this was ok, that they were ok. That whatever was between them wasn’t going to end tonight.
“You should go ahead and leave, Chief,” Sharon answered, not turning around as she slipped into a fresh pair of panties, and Brenda tried not to stare at the way the lace hugged her hips. If that was the kind of underwear Sharon wore to crime scenes at three in the morning, Brenda couldn’t imagine what she wore when she went out.
Actually, she could imagine, and the picture sent a thrill through Brenda’s spin, accompanied by another wave of guilt. She’d hurt this woman, and all she could think about was how beautiful she was, and how badly she wanted to hold her again. She wanted to go back in time, to the start of the night, when everything was working the way it should and they were just together and she had felt… damn it, she had felt free.
“We shouldn’t arrive too close together,” Sharon said.
Damn her for always being right.
Brenda was already dressed, anyway. There was no point in waiting around for Sharon.
“All right. I’ll see you there, Sharon,” Brenda told her. That woman could call her “Chief” as much as she wanted to, but Brenda had caught a glimpse of the real Sharon, and she wasn’t going to lose her to the aloof Captain Raydor again. Brenda picked up her phone off the bed, and headed out of the bedroom, hoping for a response that never came.
Sharon
Sharon slipped into her heels and grabbed her phone, forcing herself to move a little slower than usual to give Bren- the Chief a head start. She contemplated taking her coffee with her, but decided against it. She didn’t trust her hands to stay steady enough to drink it in the car without spilling it on herself.
She was almost out of the bedroom when she noticed it, a scrap of black cloth peeking out from under the corner of her bed.
Oh for the love of God, she thought as she bent down to pick it up.
Brenda’s underwear. The woman had run off without her goddamn panties.
Sharon found herself faced with a dilemma. She could either slip them in her purse and try to find a moment to discreetly pass them back to the Chief, or she could leave them here, and make Brenda come pick them up, though that would mean giving the blonde an excuse to come back to her house, and Sharon absolutely did not want that. She felt like a first class fool for the way she had allowed herself to behave, and her wounded pride wouldn’t let her so much as entertain the notion of bringing Brenda back to her home. With a sigh she decided to take the panties with her, and slipped them into her bag before heading out the door.
Sergeant Elliot had sent her directions to the crime scene, and so she climbed into her car, trying to pretend that she was ready for whatever was ahead. She would be professional, she would remain calm, she would not let her personal life affect her job.
She couldn’t let it affect her job.
Andy
The Chief still wasn’t there, and he was getting antsy. The media circus had shown up almost the same time he had, and between wrangling the Major Crimes squad, trying to keep FID out of the way, and the reporters shouting at him, his nerves were shot. He needed the Chief, and he needed her now, if for no other reason than that all of these problems could be dumped onto her, and he could get back to actually doing his job. He fished his phone out of his pocket and called her, hoping she hadn’t gotten lost. Her sense of direction had improved greatly over the last few years, but he still had his doubts in her abilities.
“Raydor,” a familiar voice answered, and Andy jumped, pulling his phone away from his ear and staring at it in horror. He had called the right number, so why in the hell had the Captain answered?
“Sharon?” he asked, her first name slipping out as it sometimes did when he was too surprised to remember that they weren’t supposed to be friends anymore.
“Andy?” she responded, sounding equally shocked. “Did you need something?”
“I needed the Chief. Why the hell are you answering her phone?”
“Shit,” she said softly, so softly he almost missed it. “Shit,” she said again, a little louder this time.
He checked his watch. Just after three on a Friday morning, and Sharon was answering the Chief’s phone? Andy couldn’t exactly picture them going out for a friendly drink, or really doing anything that would explain them being in the same place at this time of night besides work, and neither of them had arrived at the crime scene yet.
And then it dawned him, the only possible explanation, not just for this night, but for all the nights that had come before it, for the tension and the lingering glances and the way Sharon had, every once in a while, let down her guard and he had caught sight of an expression he had not seen on her face for many years. They had been close, once, and he knew her as well as anyone. Probably better than anyone, these days, and he had often caught himself wondering if perhaps the Captain wasn’t a bit smitten with the Deputy Chief. Never mind that Brenda was so not her type; Sharon generally went for taller women, redheads usually, who liked classical music and expensive wine and talked about foreign films. Women more like Sharon herself. Women who were not married.
There was no way she was sleeping with the Chief, right?
“Sharon, what the hell-“
“Andy, please, just don’t tell anybody, I’m almost there,” she sounded a little desperate, and a lot tired, and he found himself wishing she were here. The answers to his questions would have been written all over her face for Andy, who was one of the few people in the world who could actually see past her defenses.
“I just hope for your sake you weren’t doing what I think you were doing,” he told her. She huffed and hung up, leaving him staring at the glowing screen of his cell phone.
God I hope she wasn’t doing what I think she was doing.
She deserved so much better than that, and he was going to tell her so as soon as he saw her.