Love Games 2/?
Title: Love Games 2?
Rating: I’d give it a PG-13 for now.
Pairing:Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: I do not own the Closer, nor the lovely Mary Mcdonnell or Kyra Sedgwick
Spoilers: Um, any episode with Sharon is fair game, but I'm not planning to specifically reference any at the moment.
Summary: Brenda gets her revenge on Sharon...
Author Note: So I'm still beta-less, but I'm gonna throw this up here anyways. :) I hope you all enjoy! Also, if you have any ideas for funny hijinks, let me know. Oh, and I decided to go with calling each part a Round instead of a chapter... Seemed to fit in with the 'game' theme.
Round 1
Round 2
The barest scent of chocolate from the kiss mixed with something Brenda had trouble identifying, cherry blossoms maybe, lingered in the air as Brenda stood in the break room feeling slightly dazed. For a moment, the world seemed to shift off its axis and colors seemed extra bright as Brenda‘s thoughts scrambled.
Had Sharon Raydor just openly teased her? Or had the whole thing been a mirage? As the scent of cherry blossoms and chocolate swirled around her nostrils, Brenda decided quickly that the encounter had indeed occurred.
Taking a short breath, she calmed her confused thoughts and her focus returned to the “Out Of Order“ sign on the vending machine.
She was still without any chocolate, she realized as her previous frustration returned and her stomach growled loudly.
“Boys, when did the vending machine break?” Brenda demanded as she stormed out of the break room, her heals clicking like a racing heartbeat in her exasperation. She was greeted by a nearly empty room, due to the fast approaching evening. Only Provenza, Gabriel, and Buzz remained behind like loyal sailors following their faithful ship captain as she drowns beneath oceans of paperwork.
“What are you talking about, Chief?” Provenza retorted as he pulled out a small bag of Frito-Lay Salt and Vinegar potato chips. “It was working A-OK just a half hour ago.” With a crackle, he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth. Through a full mouth, he crunched, “I did see the Wicked Witch go in there right after me though. Maybe one of popcorn balls appeared to be a scarecrow, and she set it on fire? I mean, they are just as dry and disgusting as a scarecrow.” He chuckled to himself as he continued to eat from bag.
“Yea, Chief…” Gabriel responded as he straightened up from a hunched position over his desk. “I think Captain Raydor was in there after Provenza. Struck me as odd, since they have a vending machine down on their floor in FID…” He shrugged and glanced around, as if fearing the wrath of the renowned witch would rain down upon him if he opened his mouth.
“Oh…” Brenda exclaimed in sheer exasperation as she stopped her foot and flailed her arms in a very unladylike fashion. “That woman! I knew it! I knew it!” If Brenda had any doubts that Captain Raydor had been messing with her earlier, all of them vanished in an instance. That woman, with her vending machine destruction and the flaunting of chocolate, would be the end of the sweets junkie.
A daunting thought involving her beloved chocolate crossed Brenda’s mind, and she spat out “Oh, just one darn moment!” before she sped out of the bullpen, leaving Provenza, Buzz, and Gabriel behind to glance at each other in confusion.
The door to her office slammed open, the glass of the door rattling on its hinges, as hurricane Brenda raced through it on the way back to her desk. Not caring that Provenza, Gabriel, and Buzz were staring at her like a madwoman through the half opened blinds, she yanked the candy drawer open once more.
Just as previously, the candy drawer loomed ominously empty of any sugary delights. However, upon further examination, Brenda spotted a lone pink post-it note stuck to the very bottom. There in neat, spiral handwriting, Brenda read allowed, “I have kidnapped all the available sugary sweets in the area. Finish the paperwork you are behind on if you want your daily fix, or else.” It was conspicuously missing a signature but Brenda had little doubt in her mind who the ‘candynapper’ was.
That woman had gone too far, Brenda thought as she crumpled the post-it note and threw it in the trash can as she slowly re-emerged from her office. There was little doubt she was playing games, now. If Sharon Raydor wanted to play, Brenda would not deny her a game. But that woman had better be prepared, for cavorting with Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had some serious consequences.
Slowly, a wicked grin spread across the Deputy Chief’s face, causing those in the bull pen to noticeably shrink away in worry as she approached the desk of Buzz.
“Buzz… Buzz, Buzz, Buzz…” Brenda’s voice dripping sickly honey echoed throughout the almost empty Bullpen as she addressed the techno genius. Leaning over his desk, crowded with gizmos, gadgets, and every imaginable kind of camera, Brenda rested on her elbows. With her manicured nails taping her high cheekbones and bating her thin blond eyelashes, she asked, “I was hoping for a little help, if you don’t mind me asking…” Her soft southern tang tainted the last few words, causing Buzz to bite his lip in as worry etched across his face.
“I am having some technical difficulties….” Brenda’s brilliant smile did little to appease his worry.
“Uh oh Buzz,” Provenza called in a jovial voice, “That doesn’t sound good!”
***
“What is that insufferable noise?” Sharon hissed loudly as she returned to her office. She had spent the entire last hour trying with little success to not strangle the auditor while simultaneously celebrating her successful trump of one Brenda Leigh Johnson during a long, insipid budgeting meeting.
However, instead of returning to a quiet office where she could quietly celebrate her success with another Hershey’s kiss, Sharon was greeted by a persistent high frequency humming noise that seemed to emanate from her desk’s vicinity. Like a dull rock scrapping against glass, the constant hum caused the older brunette’s skin to crawl and her ears felt that if they fell off suddenly it would be a miracle.
Sharon narrowed her eyes as she cautiously approached her desk as if she was a fox stalking a jittery prey. Tilting her head, she noticed that her leather chair, with its deep maroon coloring, appeared to have been moved a few inches. And a faint scent of sugary vanilla seemed to permeate the air. Cautiously, she pushed the chair back and peered under the desk, half expecting to find someone hiding with a colorful kazoo. Luckily, she was rewarded with the usual sight.
However, as Sharon pulled open her top desk drawer, the aggravating hum became an earsplitting voice. In a voice with a slight lisp it sang, “Pop it, lock it, polka dot it. Countrify it, hip hop it. Put your hawk in the sky, move side to side, jump to the left, stick it, glide!”
The thundering sound of the multi-personality teen country wannabe caused Sharon to physically flinch back in alarm. She slammed the drawer in a desperate attempt to silence the musical travesty, but The Hannah Montana song did not cease or revert to a humming. Luckily for Sharon’s sake, no one remained for the day from FID, leaving her alone in her misery.
As the butchered attempt at hoedown music continued to play, Sharon’s mind raced. Only one individual came to mind to be tacky enough to resort to using the teenage star as subterfuge; Brenda Leigh Johnson.
“Figures,” muttered Sharon shaking her head as she reopened the drawer and calmly felt around for the cause of the deafening racket. Her slim fingers met a unfamiliar cold object. With a quick tug, Sharon freed the object from the tangle of pencils, rubber bands, and paper clips. The travesty to music was issuing from black and yellow speakers on a small, short-wave radio.
With a sigh of annoyance, Sharon turned the big dial on the side to the ‘OFF” position and was rewarded with sweet silence. Taking a second, she closed her eyes and let the sudden hush of the room wash over her. For a moment nothing moved, not the clock on the wall nor the blinking green light on the laser printer. Even the persistent drone of the heater seemed to die away. Breathing deeply, Sharon allowed the pure, unadulterated silence to act as a catharsis for the small headache from the music.
As the slight pounding behind her temple faded away, Sharon opened her eyes and glanced down again at the radio. Though she had little proof, she was positive that a certain southern chief was behind the small torture.
As if on cue, Sharon turned the radio over and noticed a small white note taped to the back. With a finger nail, she peeled the sheet off and unfolded it. In bright pink ink the words, “I want my candy drawer back. Let The Games Being.” were scrawled in a hurried print confirming her belief of the individual behind the prank.
How Chief Johnson, who had trouble operating a drop down screen and cell phones, was able to program a radio to blast Hannah Montana was beyond Sharon’s comprehension. She figured the Chief must have had some form of help, probably from Tao or someone else on her team. She was not technologically savvy enough to manage it alone.
“So be it.” Sharon muttered to herself, the silence of her officer once again broken.
With a secretive smile, she slid the bottom drawer to her on the grey filling drawer next to her desk open to reveal a deep pile of candy. From Tootsie Rolls and Jolly Ranchers to Snicker bars and Reese’s Cups, the drawer was covered in a sweets lover heaven.
Sharon chuckled as she grabbed a red, cherry flavored lollipop and popped the candy end it into her mouth.
“Let the games begin.” Sharon played with the stick of the lollipop as she began planning her next move. “Indeed Chief, they shall…”
To Be Continued....
Rating: I’d give it a PG-13 for now.
Pairing:Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: I do not own the Closer, nor the lovely Mary Mcdonnell or Kyra Sedgwick
Spoilers: Um, any episode with Sharon is fair game, but I'm not planning to specifically reference any at the moment.
Summary: Brenda gets her revenge on Sharon...
Author Note: So I'm still beta-less, but I'm gonna throw this up here anyways. :) I hope you all enjoy! Also, if you have any ideas for funny hijinks, let me know. Oh, and I decided to go with calling each part a Round instead of a chapter... Seemed to fit in with the 'game' theme.
Round 1
Round 2
The barest scent of chocolate from the kiss mixed with something Brenda had trouble identifying, cherry blossoms maybe, lingered in the air as Brenda stood in the break room feeling slightly dazed. For a moment, the world seemed to shift off its axis and colors seemed extra bright as Brenda‘s thoughts scrambled.
Had Sharon Raydor just openly teased her? Or had the whole thing been a mirage? As the scent of cherry blossoms and chocolate swirled around her nostrils, Brenda decided quickly that the encounter had indeed occurred.
Taking a short breath, she calmed her confused thoughts and her focus returned to the “Out Of Order“ sign on the vending machine.
She was still without any chocolate, she realized as her previous frustration returned and her stomach growled loudly.
“Boys, when did the vending machine break?” Brenda demanded as she stormed out of the break room, her heals clicking like a racing heartbeat in her exasperation. She was greeted by a nearly empty room, due to the fast approaching evening. Only Provenza, Gabriel, and Buzz remained behind like loyal sailors following their faithful ship captain as she drowns beneath oceans of paperwork.
“What are you talking about, Chief?” Provenza retorted as he pulled out a small bag of Frito-Lay Salt and Vinegar potato chips. “It was working A-OK just a half hour ago.” With a crackle, he opened the bag and popped a chip into his mouth. Through a full mouth, he crunched, “I did see the Wicked Witch go in there right after me though. Maybe one of popcorn balls appeared to be a scarecrow, and she set it on fire? I mean, they are just as dry and disgusting as a scarecrow.” He chuckled to himself as he continued to eat from bag.
“Yea, Chief…” Gabriel responded as he straightened up from a hunched position over his desk. “I think Captain Raydor was in there after Provenza. Struck me as odd, since they have a vending machine down on their floor in FID…” He shrugged and glanced around, as if fearing the wrath of the renowned witch would rain down upon him if he opened his mouth.
“Oh…” Brenda exclaimed in sheer exasperation as she stopped her foot and flailed her arms in a very unladylike fashion. “That woman! I knew it! I knew it!” If Brenda had any doubts that Captain Raydor had been messing with her earlier, all of them vanished in an instance. That woman, with her vending machine destruction and the flaunting of chocolate, would be the end of the sweets junkie.
A daunting thought involving her beloved chocolate crossed Brenda’s mind, and she spat out “Oh, just one darn moment!” before she sped out of the bullpen, leaving Provenza, Buzz, and Gabriel behind to glance at each other in confusion.
The door to her office slammed open, the glass of the door rattling on its hinges, as hurricane Brenda raced through it on the way back to her desk. Not caring that Provenza, Gabriel, and Buzz were staring at her like a madwoman through the half opened blinds, she yanked the candy drawer open once more.
Just as previously, the candy drawer loomed ominously empty of any sugary delights. However, upon further examination, Brenda spotted a lone pink post-it note stuck to the very bottom. There in neat, spiral handwriting, Brenda read allowed, “I have kidnapped all the available sugary sweets in the area. Finish the paperwork you are behind on if you want your daily fix, or else.” It was conspicuously missing a signature but Brenda had little doubt in her mind who the ‘candynapper’ was.
That woman had gone too far, Brenda thought as she crumpled the post-it note and threw it in the trash can as she slowly re-emerged from her office. There was little doubt she was playing games, now. If Sharon Raydor wanted to play, Brenda would not deny her a game. But that woman had better be prepared, for cavorting with Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson had some serious consequences.
Slowly, a wicked grin spread across the Deputy Chief’s face, causing those in the bull pen to noticeably shrink away in worry as she approached the desk of Buzz.
“Buzz… Buzz, Buzz, Buzz…” Brenda’s voice dripping sickly honey echoed throughout the almost empty Bullpen as she addressed the techno genius. Leaning over his desk, crowded with gizmos, gadgets, and every imaginable kind of camera, Brenda rested on her elbows. With her manicured nails taping her high cheekbones and bating her thin blond eyelashes, she asked, “I was hoping for a little help, if you don’t mind me asking…” Her soft southern tang tainted the last few words, causing Buzz to bite his lip in as worry etched across his face.
“I am having some technical difficulties….” Brenda’s brilliant smile did little to appease his worry.
“Uh oh Buzz,” Provenza called in a jovial voice, “That doesn’t sound good!”
***
“What is that insufferable noise?” Sharon hissed loudly as she returned to her office. She had spent the entire last hour trying with little success to not strangle the auditor while simultaneously celebrating her successful trump of one Brenda Leigh Johnson during a long, insipid budgeting meeting.
However, instead of returning to a quiet office where she could quietly celebrate her success with another Hershey’s kiss, Sharon was greeted by a persistent high frequency humming noise that seemed to emanate from her desk’s vicinity. Like a dull rock scrapping against glass, the constant hum caused the older brunette’s skin to crawl and her ears felt that if they fell off suddenly it would be a miracle.
Sharon narrowed her eyes as she cautiously approached her desk as if she was a fox stalking a jittery prey. Tilting her head, she noticed that her leather chair, with its deep maroon coloring, appeared to have been moved a few inches. And a faint scent of sugary vanilla seemed to permeate the air. Cautiously, she pushed the chair back and peered under the desk, half expecting to find someone hiding with a colorful kazoo. Luckily, she was rewarded with the usual sight.
However, as Sharon pulled open her top desk drawer, the aggravating hum became an earsplitting voice. In a voice with a slight lisp it sang, “Pop it, lock it, polka dot it. Countrify it, hip hop it. Put your hawk in the sky, move side to side, jump to the left, stick it, glide!”
The thundering sound of the multi-personality teen country wannabe caused Sharon to physically flinch back in alarm. She slammed the drawer in a desperate attempt to silence the musical travesty, but The Hannah Montana song did not cease or revert to a humming. Luckily for Sharon’s sake, no one remained for the day from FID, leaving her alone in her misery.
As the butchered attempt at hoedown music continued to play, Sharon’s mind raced. Only one individual came to mind to be tacky enough to resort to using the teenage star as subterfuge; Brenda Leigh Johnson.
“Figures,” muttered Sharon shaking her head as she reopened the drawer and calmly felt around for the cause of the deafening racket. Her slim fingers met a unfamiliar cold object. With a quick tug, Sharon freed the object from the tangle of pencils, rubber bands, and paper clips. The travesty to music was issuing from black and yellow speakers on a small, short-wave radio.
With a sigh of annoyance, Sharon turned the big dial on the side to the ‘OFF” position and was rewarded with sweet silence. Taking a second, she closed her eyes and let the sudden hush of the room wash over her. For a moment nothing moved, not the clock on the wall nor the blinking green light on the laser printer. Even the persistent drone of the heater seemed to die away. Breathing deeply, Sharon allowed the pure, unadulterated silence to act as a catharsis for the small headache from the music.
As the slight pounding behind her temple faded away, Sharon opened her eyes and glanced down again at the radio. Though she had little proof, she was positive that a certain southern chief was behind the small torture.
As if on cue, Sharon turned the radio over and noticed a small white note taped to the back. With a finger nail, she peeled the sheet off and unfolded it. In bright pink ink the words, “I want my candy drawer back. Let The Games Being.” were scrawled in a hurried print confirming her belief of the individual behind the prank.
How Chief Johnson, who had trouble operating a drop down screen and cell phones, was able to program a radio to blast Hannah Montana was beyond Sharon’s comprehension. She figured the Chief must have had some form of help, probably from Tao or someone else on her team. She was not technologically savvy enough to manage it alone.
“So be it.” Sharon muttered to herself, the silence of her officer once again broken.
With a secretive smile, she slid the bottom drawer to her on the grey filling drawer next to her desk open to reveal a deep pile of candy. From Tootsie Rolls and Jolly Ranchers to Snicker bars and Reese’s Cups, the drawer was covered in a sweets lover heaven.
Sharon chuckled as she grabbed a red, cherry flavored lollipop and popped the candy end it into her mouth.
“Let the games begin.” Sharon played with the stick of the lollipop as she began planning her next move. “Indeed Chief, they shall…”
To Be Continued....