Stupid | R | The Closer
Title: Stupid
Author: UbiquitousMixie
Summary: Falling in love or lust or whatever it was with Sharon Raydor was a downright stupid decision.
Fandom: Brenda Leigh Johnson/Sharon Raydor, The Closer
Rating: R
Word Count: 1995
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's note: I'm completely obsessed with this pairing and decided to take advantage of all the free time I had during a 7 day power outage. This is my first time writing for this fandom, so please be kind. Comments are love! Enjoy!
-
Brenda Leigh Johnson could be called many things, but 'stupid' was typically not one of them. Single-minded? Sometimes. Naive? On rare occasions. Stubborn? Definitely. But stupid? Absolutely not. She didn't always make the smartest of decisions, but she always did what needed to be done.
Falling in love or lust or whatever it was with Sharon Raydor was a downright stupid decision.
It wasn’t even a decision, really. It was just something that happened, something beyond her control. She didn't need to do it. She didn't even particularly want to. She just…couldn’t help herself. That was Brenda's only real defense, even though it wasn't much of a defense at all. It was just a fact. Falling into bed together had been something they couldn't really stop from happening. It had only been a matter of time.
The only problem (aside from the lying and the cheating and the guilt) was that it kept happening. What had started as a quickie in Raydor's office had escalated to adulterous trysts throughout the LAPD building, the parking garage, and finally Raydor's home. No matter how many times Brenda vowed to stop, she found herself falling back in love or lust or whatever over and over again.
It was the stupidest thing she'd ever done and she would hate herself for it if it didn't feel so damn good.
The more it happened, the more Brenda realized that maybe it was something she needed. Why else would she continually risk her marriage and her job and her sanity for a woman she didn't even like? Except that she did like Sharon Raydor.
She liked her too much.
Brenda clenched her eyes shut and tried to turn off her brain, but the barrage of consequences and emotions and justifications and lies relentlessly continued. She had fallen into bed with Sharon to shut out the world and yet there it was, bombarding her while she lay naked beside her.
Usually at this point (because things had escalated to the point where they had a routine), Brenda would be looking around the house for her scattered clothes and Sharon would be checking the messages on her phone, pretending not to notice. That night, things were different. Something had changed.
She was stupid not to end this whole business before it got complicated.
She was a stupid, stupid woman. She could have avoided falling in love or lust or whatever with Sharon if she had just--
"Jesus, Brenda Leigh, your feet are freezing."
Brenda laughed and ran her bare feet along the length of Sharon's calves. "Sorry."
Sharon scowled and tried to ease her legs away. "No, you're not." She finally gave up and grabbed one of Brenda's feet, rubbing it between her warm hands. Sharon was always warm. That had surprised Brenda in the beginning; she had always assumed that the FID officer was cold-blooded. Brenda wiggled her toes and nearly purred when Sharon switched to the other foot.
"That sure feels nice."
"I'm not doing it for you," Sharon replied shortly. "I'm doing it so I don't end up with frostbite."
"Oh shush! They're not that cold! Well, maybe a little."
Sharon rolled her eyes. "Do you want a pair of socks?"
Brenda knew she should say no. She had the answer ready on her tongue--to say yes would imply that she'd be staying long enough to warm up, and that was most definitely not part of the routine. What she should've done was warm up at home, in her own bed with her own socks and her own husband. Instead, she stupidly replied, "Yes please."
Sharon slipped out of bed and Brenda admired the naked curves of the older woman's body while she rummaged in a dresser on the other side of the room. Sharon looked exceptionally good for her age, still mostly taut and firm, which Brenda resented. But Sharon had her soft spots and Brenda loved those most, spending what seemed like hours lavishing them with kisses and caresses. She couldn't get enough of Sharon's body and that was part of the problem; Sharon was like chocolate. She knew she should give her up because, like chocolate, Sharon was bad for her, but she just...couldn't. She didn't really want to.
She knew that Sharon Raydor was no good for her. She knew that Sharon was making her a cheater and a liar and a bad person (even though she was already most of those things without Sharon’s help), but Brenda didn't feel bad despite all that. Somehow, this thing that happened felt more right than anything else had in a long time. Everything that Brenda believed in told her that this was bad for her and that to quit would be the healthy thing to do, but Brenda didn't want to. She didn't think she could.
Sharon returned to the bed and knelt beside Brenda's feet with a thick pair of purple wool socks. To Brenda's surprise, Sharon tugged her legs onto her lap and eased the socks over her cold toes. She smoothed her thumbs over her ankles as she pulled up each sock and squeezed each foot before she set them back onto the bed. Her movements were slow and careful, as if she were actually enjoying herself. Brenda couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that Sharon Raydor actually enjoyed putting socks onto another woman's freezing feet. It was...intimate. Too intimate.
Unsettled by the subtle softening of Sharon's typically cool exterior, Brenda sat up, curled her arms around Sharon's neck, and pulled the older woman on top of her. Sharon let out a little squeak of surprise as Brenda wrapped their bodies together but didn't fight it; instead, Sharon playfully nipped her teeth against Brenda's shoulder. Brenda giggled as they snuggled beneath the blankets, their limbs entwined. "Better?" she asked, stroking her wool-clad toes against Sharon's leg.
"Much."
It was quiet then, which unsettled Brenda even more. They didn't have many quiet moments. Usually, once the sex was over, they went their separate ways. On rare occasions, when they lingered in each other's company, it was to discuss work. They never simply...coexisted. They never stayed long enough for cuddling or pillow talk.
Brenda was surprised by how awkward it wasn't.
"Something's changed," Sharon stated quietly, her fingers languidly tracing random patterns on Brenda's stomach.
Hearing it aloud struck Brenda harder than she expected. She suddenly felt choked up, the way she did when she was forced to accept an inevitable conclusion that she had struggled to ignore. "Yeah," she agreed. She didn't trust herself to say anything else.
"I--" Sharon paused and cleared her throat. "I don't want you to leave."
"I don't wanna go either. Not yet."
Sharon nodded.
Brenda knew that was her cue to leave. She knew that the right thing to do would be to get out of the captain's bed and go home to her husband, but she couldn't will her body to extricate itself from Sharon's. Instead, Brenda simply shifted onto her side and looked down at the older woman. In the dark, illuminated only by a sliver of pale moonlight sneaking through a crack of space between the curtains, Sharon looked different. She looked softer, more vulnerable. She looked afraid. Somehow, Brenda had become someone who was capable of breaking Sharon's heart.
Brenda didn't want to hurt Sharon. She didn't want to string her along but Brenda knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't--couldn't--be the one to leave.
She was so stupid.
Sharon's fingertips curved along the back of her neck before she pulled her down for a kiss. There was something different about this kiss. For the first time since this whole thing began, it was less about possession and more about connection. It was about giving instead of taking, a concept that did not generally come easily to either woman but became, in that moment, completely effortless.
"What have you done to me?" Sharon whispered, her lips grazing Brenda's. She tangled her fingers in Brenda's hair and moved above her, sliding one of her legs between Brenda's. "Why can't I hate you the way I did in the beginning?"
Brenda smiled and angled her hips to meet Sharon's thigh. "You never hated me."
"Yes, I did," the captain replied as she pressed their bodies together.
The deputy chief grinned. "No, you didn't. You wish you did--"
"You wish you did too," Sharon interjected, her legs settling on either side of Brenda's hip. She rolled her hips down, sliding wetly against Brenda's thigh, and drove her own leg forward, mimicking her movement against the apex of Brenda's thighs.
Brenda let out a little moan as their bodies began to undulate in a lazy rhythm, trying not to think too much about how well their bodies fit together. "It'd be so much easier if we hated each other."
"But we don't."
"No."
Sharon's hips worked a little faster, her hair falling across her face as she rolled her hips a little harder. "Not at all."
"No, not even the littlest bit." Brenda brushed back Sharon’s hair, mesmerized by the look of pure, unadulterated bliss on her face.
This was also a first; they never usually stuck around long enough to indulge in seconds. This time was slower, less frantic. The tension in Brenda's belly built unhurriedly this time and she reveled in it, knowing that her captain would take care of her when her own needs were slaked. As much as she enjoying having rough, needy sex with Sharon Raydor, Brenda realized that she liked making love with her too. That was the only appropriate label for what this had become. It should have scared the hell out of her but she was too stupidly engrossed in the little sighs and whimpers that escaped Sharon's lips to think about it. Brenda was always thinking about everything all the time; her ubiquitous thoughts never left her alone but there, beneath Sharon's sweat-slicked body, everything seemed out of focus and less important.
"Why can't I hate you?" Sharon repeated, her voice a little higher and more desperate.
Brenda could hear in her captain's voice that she was close and she gripped onto Sharon's hips, guiding her quickening pace against her leg. The older woman groaned as she rocked her hips a little more quickly. She stared down at Brenda, her green eyes imploring her to answer.
"You can't hate me for the same reason I can't hate you," Brenda replied. She bucked her hips up, meeting Sharon's hips a little harder, and the woman cried out.
"And...ooh...why’s…unh...that?" Sharon bit her lip, her eyelids fluttering slightly as she fought to maintain eye contact.
Brenda couldn't speak. She simply cupped Sharon's cheek and kissed her more softly than she'd ever kissed her before. Sharon came then, her entire body shuddering and convulsing against her own and Brenda forgot her own desire long enough to simply enjoy the way it felt to witness Captain Raydor come apart.
After several moments, Sharon slumped her body against Brenda's while she fought to catch her breath. Brenda stroked her hair--also a first--while the other woman came back to herself.
"We're in trouble," Sharon mumbled against Brenda's shoulder.
"Yeah." Brenda was surprised to feel her eyes prickling with tears. "Yeah we are." She pulled Sharon in for another kiss and didn't let her go until she was breathless. She didn't want to talk. She didn't particularly like discussing her feelings; saying it all out loud always made things more complicated. It meant she couldn't hide from things and sometimes Brenda wanted to do just that.
So maybe she was in love or lust or whatever with Sharon and maybe she was being incredibly stupid.
That didn't mean she had to deal with it right at that moment and, when Sharon pulled the blanket over her head and disappeared between Brenda's legs, Brenda decided it could wait a little longer.
---
Author: UbiquitousMixie
Summary: Falling in love or lust or whatever it was with Sharon Raydor was a downright stupid decision.
Fandom: Brenda Leigh Johnson/Sharon Raydor, The Closer
Rating: R
Word Count: 1995
Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Please don't sue.
Author's note: I'm completely obsessed with this pairing and decided to take advantage of all the free time I had during a 7 day power outage. This is my first time writing for this fandom, so please be kind. Comments are love! Enjoy!
-
Brenda Leigh Johnson could be called many things, but 'stupid' was typically not one of them. Single-minded? Sometimes. Naive? On rare occasions. Stubborn? Definitely. But stupid? Absolutely not. She didn't always make the smartest of decisions, but she always did what needed to be done.
Falling in love or lust or whatever it was with Sharon Raydor was a downright stupid decision.
It wasn’t even a decision, really. It was just something that happened, something beyond her control. She didn't need to do it. She didn't even particularly want to. She just…couldn’t help herself. That was Brenda's only real defense, even though it wasn't much of a defense at all. It was just a fact. Falling into bed together had been something they couldn't really stop from happening. It had only been a matter of time.
The only problem (aside from the lying and the cheating and the guilt) was that it kept happening. What had started as a quickie in Raydor's office had escalated to adulterous trysts throughout the LAPD building, the parking garage, and finally Raydor's home. No matter how many times Brenda vowed to stop, she found herself falling back in love or lust or whatever over and over again.
It was the stupidest thing she'd ever done and she would hate herself for it if it didn't feel so damn good.
The more it happened, the more Brenda realized that maybe it was something she needed. Why else would she continually risk her marriage and her job and her sanity for a woman she didn't even like? Except that she did like Sharon Raydor.
She liked her too much.
Brenda clenched her eyes shut and tried to turn off her brain, but the barrage of consequences and emotions and justifications and lies relentlessly continued. She had fallen into bed with Sharon to shut out the world and yet there it was, bombarding her while she lay naked beside her.
Usually at this point (because things had escalated to the point where they had a routine), Brenda would be looking around the house for her scattered clothes and Sharon would be checking the messages on her phone, pretending not to notice. That night, things were different. Something had changed.
She was stupid not to end this whole business before it got complicated.
She was a stupid, stupid woman. She could have avoided falling in love or lust or whatever with Sharon if she had just--
"Jesus, Brenda Leigh, your feet are freezing."
Brenda laughed and ran her bare feet along the length of Sharon's calves. "Sorry."
Sharon scowled and tried to ease her legs away. "No, you're not." She finally gave up and grabbed one of Brenda's feet, rubbing it between her warm hands. Sharon was always warm. That had surprised Brenda in the beginning; she had always assumed that the FID officer was cold-blooded. Brenda wiggled her toes and nearly purred when Sharon switched to the other foot.
"That sure feels nice."
"I'm not doing it for you," Sharon replied shortly. "I'm doing it so I don't end up with frostbite."
"Oh shush! They're not that cold! Well, maybe a little."
Sharon rolled her eyes. "Do you want a pair of socks?"
Brenda knew she should say no. She had the answer ready on her tongue--to say yes would imply that she'd be staying long enough to warm up, and that was most definitely not part of the routine. What she should've done was warm up at home, in her own bed with her own socks and her own husband. Instead, she stupidly replied, "Yes please."
Sharon slipped out of bed and Brenda admired the naked curves of the older woman's body while she rummaged in a dresser on the other side of the room. Sharon looked exceptionally good for her age, still mostly taut and firm, which Brenda resented. But Sharon had her soft spots and Brenda loved those most, spending what seemed like hours lavishing them with kisses and caresses. She couldn't get enough of Sharon's body and that was part of the problem; Sharon was like chocolate. She knew she should give her up because, like chocolate, Sharon was bad for her, but she just...couldn't. She didn't really want to.
She knew that Sharon Raydor was no good for her. She knew that Sharon was making her a cheater and a liar and a bad person (even though she was already most of those things without Sharon’s help), but Brenda didn't feel bad despite all that. Somehow, this thing that happened felt more right than anything else had in a long time. Everything that Brenda believed in told her that this was bad for her and that to quit would be the healthy thing to do, but Brenda didn't want to. She didn't think she could.
Sharon returned to the bed and knelt beside Brenda's feet with a thick pair of purple wool socks. To Brenda's surprise, Sharon tugged her legs onto her lap and eased the socks over her cold toes. She smoothed her thumbs over her ankles as she pulled up each sock and squeezed each foot before she set them back onto the bed. Her movements were slow and careful, as if she were actually enjoying herself. Brenda couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that Sharon Raydor actually enjoyed putting socks onto another woman's freezing feet. It was...intimate. Too intimate.
Unsettled by the subtle softening of Sharon's typically cool exterior, Brenda sat up, curled her arms around Sharon's neck, and pulled the older woman on top of her. Sharon let out a little squeak of surprise as Brenda wrapped their bodies together but didn't fight it; instead, Sharon playfully nipped her teeth against Brenda's shoulder. Brenda giggled as they snuggled beneath the blankets, their limbs entwined. "Better?" she asked, stroking her wool-clad toes against Sharon's leg.
"Much."
It was quiet then, which unsettled Brenda even more. They didn't have many quiet moments. Usually, once the sex was over, they went their separate ways. On rare occasions, when they lingered in each other's company, it was to discuss work. They never simply...coexisted. They never stayed long enough for cuddling or pillow talk.
Brenda was surprised by how awkward it wasn't.
"Something's changed," Sharon stated quietly, her fingers languidly tracing random patterns on Brenda's stomach.
Hearing it aloud struck Brenda harder than she expected. She suddenly felt choked up, the way she did when she was forced to accept an inevitable conclusion that she had struggled to ignore. "Yeah," she agreed. She didn't trust herself to say anything else.
"I--" Sharon paused and cleared her throat. "I don't want you to leave."
"I don't wanna go either. Not yet."
Sharon nodded.
Brenda knew that was her cue to leave. She knew that the right thing to do would be to get out of the captain's bed and go home to her husband, but she couldn't will her body to extricate itself from Sharon's. Instead, Brenda simply shifted onto her side and looked down at the older woman. In the dark, illuminated only by a sliver of pale moonlight sneaking through a crack of space between the curtains, Sharon looked different. She looked softer, more vulnerable. She looked afraid. Somehow, Brenda had become someone who was capable of breaking Sharon's heart.
Brenda didn't want to hurt Sharon. She didn't want to string her along but Brenda knew with absolute certainty that she wouldn't--couldn't--be the one to leave.
She was so stupid.
Sharon's fingertips curved along the back of her neck before she pulled her down for a kiss. There was something different about this kiss. For the first time since this whole thing began, it was less about possession and more about connection. It was about giving instead of taking, a concept that did not generally come easily to either woman but became, in that moment, completely effortless.
"What have you done to me?" Sharon whispered, her lips grazing Brenda's. She tangled her fingers in Brenda's hair and moved above her, sliding one of her legs between Brenda's. "Why can't I hate you the way I did in the beginning?"
Brenda smiled and angled her hips to meet Sharon's thigh. "You never hated me."
"Yes, I did," the captain replied as she pressed their bodies together.
The deputy chief grinned. "No, you didn't. You wish you did--"
"You wish you did too," Sharon interjected, her legs settling on either side of Brenda's hip. She rolled her hips down, sliding wetly against Brenda's thigh, and drove her own leg forward, mimicking her movement against the apex of Brenda's thighs.
Brenda let out a little moan as their bodies began to undulate in a lazy rhythm, trying not to think too much about how well their bodies fit together. "It'd be so much easier if we hated each other."
"But we don't."
"No."
Sharon's hips worked a little faster, her hair falling across her face as she rolled her hips a little harder. "Not at all."
"No, not even the littlest bit." Brenda brushed back Sharon’s hair, mesmerized by the look of pure, unadulterated bliss on her face.
This was also a first; they never usually stuck around long enough to indulge in seconds. This time was slower, less frantic. The tension in Brenda's belly built unhurriedly this time and she reveled in it, knowing that her captain would take care of her when her own needs were slaked. As much as she enjoying having rough, needy sex with Sharon Raydor, Brenda realized that she liked making love with her too. That was the only appropriate label for what this had become. It should have scared the hell out of her but she was too stupidly engrossed in the little sighs and whimpers that escaped Sharon's lips to think about it. Brenda was always thinking about everything all the time; her ubiquitous thoughts never left her alone but there, beneath Sharon's sweat-slicked body, everything seemed out of focus and less important.
"Why can't I hate you?" Sharon repeated, her voice a little higher and more desperate.
Brenda could hear in her captain's voice that she was close and she gripped onto Sharon's hips, guiding her quickening pace against her leg. The older woman groaned as she rocked her hips a little more quickly. She stared down at Brenda, her green eyes imploring her to answer.
"You can't hate me for the same reason I can't hate you," Brenda replied. She bucked her hips up, meeting Sharon's hips a little harder, and the woman cried out.
"And...ooh...why’s…unh...that?" Sharon bit her lip, her eyelids fluttering slightly as she fought to maintain eye contact.
Brenda couldn't speak. She simply cupped Sharon's cheek and kissed her more softly than she'd ever kissed her before. Sharon came then, her entire body shuddering and convulsing against her own and Brenda forgot her own desire long enough to simply enjoy the way it felt to witness Captain Raydor come apart.
After several moments, Sharon slumped her body against Brenda's while she fought to catch her breath. Brenda stroked her hair--also a first--while the other woman came back to herself.
"We're in trouble," Sharon mumbled against Brenda's shoulder.
"Yeah." Brenda was surprised to feel her eyes prickling with tears. "Yeah we are." She pulled Sharon in for another kiss and didn't let her go until she was breathless. She didn't want to talk. She didn't particularly like discussing her feelings; saying it all out loud always made things more complicated. It meant she couldn't hide from things and sometimes Brenda wanted to do just that.
So maybe she was in love or lust or whatever with Sharon and maybe she was being incredibly stupid.
That didn't mean she had to deal with it right at that moment and, when Sharon pulled the blanket over her head and disappeared between Brenda's legs, Brenda decided it could wait a little longer.
---