Season 7 Companion Series: You Have The Right to Remain Jolly
author Coco / I HEART CUDDY
rating R
disclaimers I do not own season seven… or any season of the Closer. I make no money off of this whatsoever, this is just all for fun. I’ll put Brenda and Sharon back when I’m done with them. Maybe ;)
spoilers this is a companion series for season seven so the episode whose title is the title of the part will potentially/probably be spoiled…
synopsis a retelling of the season seven episodes as though Brenda and Sharon have been in a long term serious relationship. When we last left our ladies their relationship was looking less than promising but, in the throes of the federal lawsuit, can Brenda and Sharon work out their differences?
Sharon dropped her bags on the floor of the familiar little cottage.
“I just talked to James, he’s almost here, he just hit a little traffic getting out of San Fran.” Angela said, leaning against the doorframe of the master bedroom. She pocketed her cell phone and folded her arms across her chest. “Since it’s just the three of us this year can we switch up the sleeping arrangement?”
“What’d you have in mind?” Sharon asked pulling a few sweaters out of the suitcase and hanging them in the closet.
“Maybe you and I could share the master bedroom so I don’t have to share a bed with baby brother this year.” Angela sighed, “I’m sick of having to hassle him to avoid eating foods that make him gassy. If you and I just shared the queen bed he could stink up the living room all night long and not risk killing anyone.”
Sharon smiled, “I think I can swing that.”
A loud ringing pierced the air. “Oh. You’re phone, I’ll grab it for you. In your purse?”
“Coat pocket, thanks, Angel.” Sharon opened the drawer in the bureau and dumped in her socks and underwear. Sharon did so despise living out of a suitcase but she’d been to this little B&B so many times it felt like a home away from home. Even though they’d only be spending three nights, it felt worth it to hang up and put away all of her clothing.
Sharon had grown up in Pescadero, CA and every year she and her parents would get a Christmas tree from the Medeiros Christmas Tree farm. When Sharon grew up, moved out and had her own children they always came back to Pescadero to spend a week with her parents and bring home a Christmas tree. Then her parents moved to Florida and her own children moved out but they still made the yearly pilgrimage and had begun the tradition of staying at the Pescadero Creek Inn in the cottage by the water. Sharon was grateful that her children still wanted to do it and wouldn’t trade this time for anything in the world.
“Mom, it’s Brenda. Didn’t she get the memo that you’re off this week?” Angela scoffed, “probably calling to ask you for a favor. Maybe she wants you to pick up her dry cleaning.”
“Uh, just let that go to voicemail.” Sharon tried to sound dismissive.
“No, no, this’ll be good.” Angela laughed and accepted the call, “hey Brenda.”
“Angela, come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes.
“Oh, Angela, it’s been a while since we’ve talked. You and your mama still on the road?”
“No, we’re at the inn…” Angela was surprised that Brenda knew to ask that.
“Is your mama around?”
“Give me the phone, please.” Sharon whispered, holding out her hand.
“She’s in the shower actually.”
Sharon heaved a heavy sigh. “Angela, stop messing around, I’m serious.”
“Oh, okay. I won’t disturb her then. Could you please tell her that I miss her already and I’m sorry that I couldn’t go up to Pescadero this year. I hope you guys have a lot of fun and I expect pictures of your mama trying to cut down her Douglas fir.” She laughed pleasantly, “oh and tell her to call me back if she wants to hear about the most ridiculous case of the year.”
“Um… okay.”
“Is your brother there yet?”
“No…”
“Well, tell him hi for me when he gets there.” Brenda paused for Angela to say something… anything, really before adding, “okay, well, have a great couple of days. See you soon, hopefully.”
Angela hung up the phone and turned a look on her mother. “Do you have something to tell me?”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” Sharon snatched the phone from her daughter, “it’s mind your own beeswax.”
“Is this why you took your house off the market?”
“It’s ridiculous to try and sell it right now. It’s completely paid off so it’s not really costing me much, just property taxes and if I wait until the housing market is better I’ll get a better offer.”
“And you’re back together with Brenda.”
“Don’t give me that look.” Sharon snapped, “ever since the divorce you’ve felt like it was your job to protect me and I don’t need you to protect me. I’m your mother.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt! Is that so wrong?”
“It is if you don’t let me make my own decisions.” Sharon sighed, “Angie, how about you worry about you and I’ll worry about everybody.”
Angela pouted. “I just… I’m the one you come to when Brenda makes you sad and maybe I don’t think you should put yourself in that position again and again and again. Maybe I just wish you’d see this pattern and you’d come to your senses instead of slinking back to her and lying to me about it.”
Sharon put her hands up in annoyed resignation. “Fine, have it your way.”
“Oh my god, you’re not allowed to be mad at me! I’m mad at you.”
“I’m not mad at you, sweetie, I’m just going to give you some space and let you come to your senses.”
“Oooh that is so condescending!”
The front door to the cabin opened and the women turned to James whose smile slowly faded as he took in the expressions on his mother and sister. “I see I got here just in time for the show.”
Sharon shook her head. “Just a little ‘we were stuck in a car together for 5 hours’ drama. We’re okay. Aren’t we, Angel?”
Angela nodded with a sigh.
“Oh, well, as long as you’re not fighting.” James put his suitcase down. “So can I get a hug or does the animosity spread to me?”
Sharon smiled and stepped up to her son and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, James.”
“Good to see you too, mom.” James looked to Angela and held out his arms, “how about you?”
“I’ll pass.” Angela smirked.
**
Brenda sat in the passenger seat of Fritz’s car, toying with the stupid little ornament. It occurred to her, vaguely, that if it wasn’t for Sharon, Fritz and Will trying to keep her on the right track that she’d, undoubtedly, be in even deeper shit than she already was. Knowing that people care about you so much should have been a comforting thought but it actually made her feel sad. She wondered, not for the first time, if anyone really did things for her out of altruism or if it was all just a ploy to get into her pants.
Brenda heaved an involuntary sigh and turned to look out the window. She didn’t really want to be heading back to the LAPD, she wished she was in Pescadero trying to get into Sharon’s pants. Instead, she was in Fritz’s car, hoping he didn’t need a reminder that she wasn’t interested in getting into his pants anymore.
“Brenda-”
“Please, don’t talk. I’m not really in the mood.” She looked back down at the trinket.
“If that’s the way you want it-”
“I didn’t ask you to take time off work.” Brenda looked over at him. “I know you feel put upon and unappreciated but I never asked you for any of it.”
“But you’re happy enough to take whatever’s handed to you.” Fritz frowned.
“Of course I am. People are selfish.” Brenda scoffed, “I act in a completely predictable manner. I’m going to keep taking as long as you keep giving. You know this about me.”
“Brenda-”
“No, it’s just… everyone always just ‘wants me to be myself’ but nobody really wants that. Everybody wants me to change, to be something different. Well, you all knew what I was like and you all should just deal with it.”
“Are you through?” Fritz rolled his eyes. He waited a moment but she seemed to have come to a halt. “Relationships are about compromise, they’re about changing for each other. They’re about considering each other’s needs.”
“Would you still bring me coffee and breakfast if I told you I was never going to sleep with you again?”
He sighed. “Why are you being so vindictive? Is it because you’re nervous about paying for Gavin?”
“No. It is a real question.” Brenda said firmly. “Do you only like me because you think there’s a possibility you’ll get to sleep with me?”
“You’re a very smart woman, Brenda, of course I’m interested in more than your body.”
“Sharon and I are back together. We’re taking it slow right now but I’m going to do it right this time around. This federal lawsuit has really helped me put it in perspective. No matter what else goes wrong in my life, I just want to be with Sharon.” Brenda said, “whether or not my future includes you at all doesn’t really matter to me.”
“Are you trying to be cruel?”
“I’m trying to get you to be realistic.”
“You’re just upset about Gavin and Goldman and-”
“I’m upset because you’re not hearing my words.” Brenda snapped. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need you to pick me up and take me to meetings and nag at me about not eating a balanced breakfast. I am going to make mistakes, I’m going to do things wrong but it’s my life and my prerogative to make those mistakes, Fritz. Do you hear me?”
Fritz pulled up in front of the LAPD. “Why don’t we talk again when you’re not as upset?”
Brenda huffed angrily and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her.
“Hey, you forgot your ornament!” Fritz called, holding up the silver bell. “Brenda!”
**
“Mom’s still not back?” James asked, bringing his sister a beer and joining her on the porch of the little cottage.
“She’s only been gone 15 minutes. Traffic’s not great this time of day.”
He settled down on the chair and sipped his beer. “I guess I’m just really hungry.”
Angela popped the cap off her beer on the arm of the chair and took a sip. James studied his sister for a moment. “Are you really mad at mom for getting back with Brenda? I mean, is it really your business?”
Angela turned to look at him incredulously. “Brenda was really insensitive and mom shouldn’t put up with that!”
“You know what I think?” James asked, he waited for Angela to answer but she only rolled her eyes. “You look to mom as a role model for your own relationships and you’re the one who’s really afraid to get taken advantage of.”
Angela scoffed.
“Mom gives as good as she gets.” James smiled, “remember when she didn’t pick Brenda up from the dentist after her root canal because she got called into work?”
Angela chuckled a little.
“I’m pretty sure that they deserve each other.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And how many birthday parties did she show up late to during our childhoods? How many cards did dad sign her name on?”
“I guess.”
“So maybe it’s penance.” James shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that mom finally learned to care more about someone else than herself.”
“Well, what if she went too far in the other direction?” Angela sipped her beer and turned to James again. “The middle is obviously the right place to be: consider someone else’s feelings and act accordingly but also remain true to yourself.”
James laughed, “Ange, if there’s anyone I know who’s unapologetically themself it’s mom.”
Angela nodded.
“And maybe we should be supportive instead of judgmental because it’s not really going to change her actions. We love her and our job is to comfort her and support her not to make her decisions for her.”
“So are you saying you’re not mad at Brenda?”
He scoffed, “that is absolutely not what I’m saying. If Brenda was a man and didn’t carry a gun she’d have to answer to me. Nobody gets away with hurting my mother.”
Angela laughed, “you are not as scary as you think you are. You grew up in a good neighborhood in L.A. with a swimming pool and someone who came in to clean a couple days a week. You went to private school. You couldn’t intimidate anyone.”
“Apparently.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head dismissively and downed the last couple of sips of his beer.
**
Brenda lay on the bed in the spare bedroom of her apartment staring at the Phillip Strohe board that she’d pinned up. She wasn’t reading it or thinking critically about it, she was merely considering it as an idea and looking at it as a whole.
She wasn’t sorry for any of it. That was the real kicker of this lawsuit. Sometimes the justice system failed, sometimes creative solutions were necessary. In any other field thinking outside of the box would be rewarded. Indeed, it was validated by some other members of her team. Each and every one of the men who had died as a result of her actions were criminals, they were admitted killers. They’d had a choice: they’d been caught, maybe not with forensics, but someone had found them out and they, by rights, should have stood trial for their crimes. If they didn’t stand trial for their crimes, for whatever reason, they’d just have to take their chances.
It made her so angry. Why were the lives of admitted killers more important than her years of service, during which she’d brought so many families closure and justice to victims.
Sometimes she wished she’d never left the CIA. She’d never been asked to justify her actions, she’d done what was necessary and she was lauded for it.
Maybe it was because she was a woman and she was being punished for presuming to decide the fate of men. Would she be in this mess if they’d all been women? But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Women, as a rule of thumb, just didn’t kill people in cold blood, they didn’t rape, torture and murder helpless victims.
This was just another way to stick it to women.
She glanced at her cell phone. She wanted to call Sharon and receive the familiar comfort of her even, honeyed voice but she didn’t want to be that clingy person. Especially since they had ‘started over’ and they’d only technically had two dates.
She wasn’t sure how strictly Sharon was going to make her adhere to the dating structure… She wanted to call her again so badly.
When the phone rang, Brenda jumped. She chuckled to herself when she saw the caller id.
“Oh, hey Sharon.” She said, trying her best to sound nonchalant.
Sharon smiled against the phone; she knew the woman well enough to know what was and what wasn’t legitimate nonchalance. “Hey Brenda.” She teased. “What are you up to?”
Brenda shrugged, “just lyin’ in bed and solving the mysteries of the universe.”
“Oh? Have you gotten as far as why there’s always an odd number of socks in the dryer even though an even number went into the washer?”
“Oh, that was one of the easy ones.” Brenda flirted, “spontaneous sock combustion.”
“No kidding?”
“When some socks come in contact with soap they just poof and they’re gone. All socks are allergic to soap and it’s only a matter of time before they succumb.”
“Learn something every day.” Sharon switched the phone to the other ear. Someone’s truck hadn’t been secured well enough and the contents of a couple of boxes had spilled into the road, blocking both lanes. The people in the truck struggled to get it cleared to release the deadlocked cars. Sharon was sitting next to a very large bag of take-out that smelled like heaven and she had to try very hard not to just reach over and start eating.
“Which ones are you stuck on?” Sharon asked, chewing her lip a little.
“Why do fools fall in love? Why didn’t they ever build a boat on Gilligan’s island? Why does the last bite of pasta primavera from your plate always taste better than my whole serving?”
“You really have your hands full.” Sharon agreed with playful solemnity.
“I miss you.” Brenda sighed, unable to hold it back any longer. “Not just… you… I miss us, I miss talking to you. I miss kissing you goodnight before falling asleep. I just… sorry, I’m trying to play it cool… but I really want everything to be okay this time. I want you to know how much I love you and how much you really mean to me.”
The brake lights of the car in front of her went out and she said a silent thank you that traffic was moving again. The wheels of the truck that she’d rented to haul the Christmas tree back in rolled slowly forward for a while before traffic thinned and started moving at a respectable speed.
“Are you still there?” Brenda asked softly, holding her breath waiting for Sharon to answer.
“I love you.” She whispered, “I love you so much it’s kind of ridiculous.”
“I wish I was there with you.” Brenda whimpered, “I can’t wait until you get back… I just want to kiss you and hold you and touch you…”
Sharon mmed softly and let out a breath slowly.
“What are you wearing?” Brenda purred.
“Ngh. I can’t do this right now… I’m driving…”
Brenda laid back against the pillows, her golden hair splaying out around her head and slipped her eyes shut. She let her free hand trail down her stomach and past the waist of her skirt. Once she was past the first layer she felt a little shier.
“Keep talking to me?” Brenda pleaded.
“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” Sharon groaned shakily.
“I miss feeling your fingers inside me.” Brenda admitted, letting her fingers slip past her panties and through the dark blonde curls. Her fingertip brushed her clit and she let out a breathy gasp.
“Oh god, Brenda.” Sharon gripped the steering wheel tightly. “If I was there with you I’d settle down between your legs and run my tongue up your inner thigh.”
“Mmm…” Brenda traced lazy circles on her clit, her hips starting to move with her fingers’ movements.
“I’d dip my tongue inside you and just… taste you and savor you…”
“Ooh, yes… Sharon…” Brenda moaned, dipping her fingers into her, letting the digits curl and press into all the sensitive spots.
“And I’d push three fingers into you just like you like…” Sharon smiled.
Brenda groaned through a grin. Sharon knew her body like no one ever had before her and she even knew how to carress her perfectly with her silken cadence. Brenda mumbled her name in appreciation, pumping her fingers, the heel of her hand rubbing against her clit.
“And I’d fuck you until you screamed.”
Brenda moaned, lifting her hips higher, “god, Sharon, I’m so close.”
“Come for me, Brenda,” Sharon whispered urgently, feeling the heat between her legs and wishing she was in a position to do something about it but it would have to be tabled until she got back to Los Angeles.
Brenda cried out, toppled over the edge by Sharon’s seductive tones, whimpering the older woman’s name as she orgasmed around her own fingers. Finally, satiated and spent she laid back against the pillows, letting her breathing return to normal.
“God Sharon…”
“You can just call me Sharon.” She smirked.
Brenda laughed, “you think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?”
“I’m God’s gift to the entire world, who are you kidding?” Sharon grinned, “I’m not the one who just called me God.”
“I’ll call you anything you want, just come home to me.” Brenda said sweetly, turning to lay on her side. “I just…”
“I know.”
There was silence for a few long moments. Sharon wanted to tell Brenda that she should just drive up, that the stay had barely started and she should just join them but that would surely put strain on the time spent with her children.
“When I get back let’s drive to the beach.”
“I’d like that.”
“I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Have a great time, Sharon. I love you.”
Sharon hung up the phone, she could see the Inn cresting on the hill but decided she may need an extra trip or two around the block to make her body forget the phone sex she’d just had.
In her spare bedroom in her apartment Brenda laid listening to her heartbeat for a few long minutes before swinging her legs over the side and stood up. Standing in front of her Phillip Strohe murder board she made the decision to push him from her mind during the lawsuit.
Whether or not she believed she was doing the right thing was immaterial and she decided that Mr. Strohe had to go back to the evidence vault for the time being. That was not to say that she’d ever forget, she would never ever forget. But, for the sake of her own freedom to continue working the case, she’d push him to the very back of her mind for now.
**
Their dinner was a very large bag of Chinese food that was eagerly awaited by her offspring. When she walked through the door James took it off of her hands and Angela brought her a beer. Sharon took a sip of the cold, crisp beer, letting it slide down her throat and she suddenly felt very present in the cabin with her children and not back in Los Angeles with Brenda.
The taste of the dry beer reminded her fondly of her father who, after quite a long fight with cancer, had died last spring. He’d always had a case of beer in the house and though she mostly preferred wine - and with Brenda she only drank wine - beer was a nice change from time to time.
rating R
disclaimers I do not own season seven… or any season of the Closer. I make no money off of this whatsoever, this is just all for fun. I’ll put Brenda and Sharon back when I’m done with them. Maybe ;)
spoilers this is a companion series for season seven so the episode whose title is the title of the part will potentially/probably be spoiled…
synopsis a retelling of the season seven episodes as though Brenda and Sharon have been in a long term serious relationship. When we last left our ladies their relationship was looking less than promising but, in the throes of the federal lawsuit, can Brenda and Sharon work out their differences?
Sharon dropped her bags on the floor of the familiar little cottage.
“I just talked to James, he’s almost here, he just hit a little traffic getting out of San Fran.” Angela said, leaning against the doorframe of the master bedroom. She pocketed her cell phone and folded her arms across her chest. “Since it’s just the three of us this year can we switch up the sleeping arrangement?”
“What’d you have in mind?” Sharon asked pulling a few sweaters out of the suitcase and hanging them in the closet.
“Maybe you and I could share the master bedroom so I don’t have to share a bed with baby brother this year.” Angela sighed, “I’m sick of having to hassle him to avoid eating foods that make him gassy. If you and I just shared the queen bed he could stink up the living room all night long and not risk killing anyone.”
Sharon smiled, “I think I can swing that.”
A loud ringing pierced the air. “Oh. You’re phone, I’ll grab it for you. In your purse?”
“Coat pocket, thanks, Angel.” Sharon opened the drawer in the bureau and dumped in her socks and underwear. Sharon did so despise living out of a suitcase but she’d been to this little B&B so many times it felt like a home away from home. Even though they’d only be spending three nights, it felt worth it to hang up and put away all of her clothing.
Sharon had grown up in Pescadero, CA and every year she and her parents would get a Christmas tree from the Medeiros Christmas Tree farm. When Sharon grew up, moved out and had her own children they always came back to Pescadero to spend a week with her parents and bring home a Christmas tree. Then her parents moved to Florida and her own children moved out but they still made the yearly pilgrimage and had begun the tradition of staying at the Pescadero Creek Inn in the cottage by the water. Sharon was grateful that her children still wanted to do it and wouldn’t trade this time for anything in the world.
“Mom, it’s Brenda. Didn’t she get the memo that you’re off this week?” Angela scoffed, “probably calling to ask you for a favor. Maybe she wants you to pick up her dry cleaning.”
“Uh, just let that go to voicemail.” Sharon tried to sound dismissive.
“No, no, this’ll be good.” Angela laughed and accepted the call, “hey Brenda.”
“Angela, come on.” Sharon rolled her eyes.
“Oh, Angela, it’s been a while since we’ve talked. You and your mama still on the road?”
“No, we’re at the inn…” Angela was surprised that Brenda knew to ask that.
“Is your mama around?”
“Give me the phone, please.” Sharon whispered, holding out her hand.
“She’s in the shower actually.”
Sharon heaved a heavy sigh. “Angela, stop messing around, I’m serious.”
“Oh, okay. I won’t disturb her then. Could you please tell her that I miss her already and I’m sorry that I couldn’t go up to Pescadero this year. I hope you guys have a lot of fun and I expect pictures of your mama trying to cut down her Douglas fir.” She laughed pleasantly, “oh and tell her to call me back if she wants to hear about the most ridiculous case of the year.”
“Um… okay.”
“Is your brother there yet?”
“No…”
“Well, tell him hi for me when he gets there.” Brenda paused for Angela to say something… anything, really before adding, “okay, well, have a great couple of days. See you soon, hopefully.”
Angela hung up the phone and turned a look on her mother. “Do you have something to tell me?”
“I do, as a matter of fact.” Sharon snatched the phone from her daughter, “it’s mind your own beeswax.”
“Is this why you took your house off the market?”
“It’s ridiculous to try and sell it right now. It’s completely paid off so it’s not really costing me much, just property taxes and if I wait until the housing market is better I’ll get a better offer.”
“And you’re back together with Brenda.”
“Don’t give me that look.” Sharon snapped, “ever since the divorce you’ve felt like it was your job to protect me and I don’t need you to protect me. I’m your mother.”
“I don’t want you to get hurt! Is that so wrong?”
“It is if you don’t let me make my own decisions.” Sharon sighed, “Angie, how about you worry about you and I’ll worry about everybody.”
Angela pouted. “I just… I’m the one you come to when Brenda makes you sad and maybe I don’t think you should put yourself in that position again and again and again. Maybe I just wish you’d see this pattern and you’d come to your senses instead of slinking back to her and lying to me about it.”
Sharon put her hands up in annoyed resignation. “Fine, have it your way.”
“Oh my god, you’re not allowed to be mad at me! I’m mad at you.”
“I’m not mad at you, sweetie, I’m just going to give you some space and let you come to your senses.”
“Oooh that is so condescending!”
The front door to the cabin opened and the women turned to James whose smile slowly faded as he took in the expressions on his mother and sister. “I see I got here just in time for the show.”
Sharon shook her head. “Just a little ‘we were stuck in a car together for 5 hours’ drama. We’re okay. Aren’t we, Angel?”
Angela nodded with a sigh.
“Oh, well, as long as you’re not fighting.” James put his suitcase down. “So can I get a hug or does the animosity spread to me?”
Sharon smiled and stepped up to her son and gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s good to see you, James.”
“Good to see you too, mom.” James looked to Angela and held out his arms, “how about you?”
“I’ll pass.” Angela smirked.
**
Brenda sat in the passenger seat of Fritz’s car, toying with the stupid little ornament. It occurred to her, vaguely, that if it wasn’t for Sharon, Fritz and Will trying to keep her on the right track that she’d, undoubtedly, be in even deeper shit than she already was. Knowing that people care about you so much should have been a comforting thought but it actually made her feel sad. She wondered, not for the first time, if anyone really did things for her out of altruism or if it was all just a ploy to get into her pants.
Brenda heaved an involuntary sigh and turned to look out the window. She didn’t really want to be heading back to the LAPD, she wished she was in Pescadero trying to get into Sharon’s pants. Instead, she was in Fritz’s car, hoping he didn’t need a reminder that she wasn’t interested in getting into his pants anymore.
“Brenda-”
“Please, don’t talk. I’m not really in the mood.” She looked back down at the trinket.
“If that’s the way you want it-”
“I didn’t ask you to take time off work.” Brenda looked over at him. “I know you feel put upon and unappreciated but I never asked you for any of it.”
“But you’re happy enough to take whatever’s handed to you.” Fritz frowned.
“Of course I am. People are selfish.” Brenda scoffed, “I act in a completely predictable manner. I’m going to keep taking as long as you keep giving. You know this about me.”
“Brenda-”
“No, it’s just… everyone always just ‘wants me to be myself’ but nobody really wants that. Everybody wants me to change, to be something different. Well, you all knew what I was like and you all should just deal with it.”
“Are you through?” Fritz rolled his eyes. He waited a moment but she seemed to have come to a halt. “Relationships are about compromise, they’re about changing for each other. They’re about considering each other’s needs.”
“Would you still bring me coffee and breakfast if I told you I was never going to sleep with you again?”
He sighed. “Why are you being so vindictive? Is it because you’re nervous about paying for Gavin?”
“No. It is a real question.” Brenda said firmly. “Do you only like me because you think there’s a possibility you’ll get to sleep with me?”
“You’re a very smart woman, Brenda, of course I’m interested in more than your body.”
“Sharon and I are back together. We’re taking it slow right now but I’m going to do it right this time around. This federal lawsuit has really helped me put it in perspective. No matter what else goes wrong in my life, I just want to be with Sharon.” Brenda said, “whether or not my future includes you at all doesn’t really matter to me.”
“Are you trying to be cruel?”
“I’m trying to get you to be realistic.”
“You’re just upset about Gavin and Goldman and-”
“I’m upset because you’re not hearing my words.” Brenda snapped. “I don’t need you to take care of me. I don’t need you to pick me up and take me to meetings and nag at me about not eating a balanced breakfast. I am going to make mistakes, I’m going to do things wrong but it’s my life and my prerogative to make those mistakes, Fritz. Do you hear me?”
Fritz pulled up in front of the LAPD. “Why don’t we talk again when you’re not as upset?”
Brenda huffed angrily and got out of the car, slamming the door behind her.
“Hey, you forgot your ornament!” Fritz called, holding up the silver bell. “Brenda!”
**
“Mom’s still not back?” James asked, bringing his sister a beer and joining her on the porch of the little cottage.
“She’s only been gone 15 minutes. Traffic’s not great this time of day.”
He settled down on the chair and sipped his beer. “I guess I’m just really hungry.”
Angela popped the cap off her beer on the arm of the chair and took a sip. James studied his sister for a moment. “Are you really mad at mom for getting back with Brenda? I mean, is it really your business?”
Angela turned to look at him incredulously. “Brenda was really insensitive and mom shouldn’t put up with that!”
“You know what I think?” James asked, he waited for Angela to answer but she only rolled her eyes. “You look to mom as a role model for your own relationships and you’re the one who’s really afraid to get taken advantage of.”
Angela scoffed.
“Mom gives as good as she gets.” James smiled, “remember when she didn’t pick Brenda up from the dentist after her root canal because she got called into work?”
Angela chuckled a little.
“I’m pretty sure that they deserve each other.”
“You’re probably right.”
“And how many birthday parties did she show up late to during our childhoods? How many cards did dad sign her name on?”
“I guess.”
“So maybe it’s penance.” James shrugged. “Maybe it’s a good thing that mom finally learned to care more about someone else than herself.”
“Well, what if she went too far in the other direction?” Angela sipped her beer and turned to James again. “The middle is obviously the right place to be: consider someone else’s feelings and act accordingly but also remain true to yourself.”
James laughed, “Ange, if there’s anyone I know who’s unapologetically themself it’s mom.”
Angela nodded.
“And maybe we should be supportive instead of judgmental because it’s not really going to change her actions. We love her and our job is to comfort her and support her not to make her decisions for her.”
“So are you saying you’re not mad at Brenda?”
He scoffed, “that is absolutely not what I’m saying. If Brenda was a man and didn’t carry a gun she’d have to answer to me. Nobody gets away with hurting my mother.”
Angela laughed, “you are not as scary as you think you are. You grew up in a good neighborhood in L.A. with a swimming pool and someone who came in to clean a couple days a week. You went to private school. You couldn’t intimidate anyone.”
“Apparently.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head dismissively and downed the last couple of sips of his beer.
**
Brenda lay on the bed in the spare bedroom of her apartment staring at the Phillip Strohe board that she’d pinned up. She wasn’t reading it or thinking critically about it, she was merely considering it as an idea and looking at it as a whole.
She wasn’t sorry for any of it. That was the real kicker of this lawsuit. Sometimes the justice system failed, sometimes creative solutions were necessary. In any other field thinking outside of the box would be rewarded. Indeed, it was validated by some other members of her team. Each and every one of the men who had died as a result of her actions were criminals, they were admitted killers. They’d had a choice: they’d been caught, maybe not with forensics, but someone had found them out and they, by rights, should have stood trial for their crimes. If they didn’t stand trial for their crimes, for whatever reason, they’d just have to take their chances.
It made her so angry. Why were the lives of admitted killers more important than her years of service, during which she’d brought so many families closure and justice to victims.
Sometimes she wished she’d never left the CIA. She’d never been asked to justify her actions, she’d done what was necessary and she was lauded for it.
Maybe it was because she was a woman and she was being punished for presuming to decide the fate of men. Would she be in this mess if they’d all been women? But that was the thing, wasn’t it? Women, as a rule of thumb, just didn’t kill people in cold blood, they didn’t rape, torture and murder helpless victims.
This was just another way to stick it to women.
She glanced at her cell phone. She wanted to call Sharon and receive the familiar comfort of her even, honeyed voice but she didn’t want to be that clingy person. Especially since they had ‘started over’ and they’d only technically had two dates.
She wasn’t sure how strictly Sharon was going to make her adhere to the dating structure… She wanted to call her again so badly.
When the phone rang, Brenda jumped. She chuckled to herself when she saw the caller id.
“Oh, hey Sharon.” She said, trying her best to sound nonchalant.
Sharon smiled against the phone; she knew the woman well enough to know what was and what wasn’t legitimate nonchalance. “Hey Brenda.” She teased. “What are you up to?”
Brenda shrugged, “just lyin’ in bed and solving the mysteries of the universe.”
“Oh? Have you gotten as far as why there’s always an odd number of socks in the dryer even though an even number went into the washer?”
“Oh, that was one of the easy ones.” Brenda flirted, “spontaneous sock combustion.”
“No kidding?”
“When some socks come in contact with soap they just poof and they’re gone. All socks are allergic to soap and it’s only a matter of time before they succumb.”
“Learn something every day.” Sharon switched the phone to the other ear. Someone’s truck hadn’t been secured well enough and the contents of a couple of boxes had spilled into the road, blocking both lanes. The people in the truck struggled to get it cleared to release the deadlocked cars. Sharon was sitting next to a very large bag of take-out that smelled like heaven and she had to try very hard not to just reach over and start eating.
“Which ones are you stuck on?” Sharon asked, chewing her lip a little.
“Why do fools fall in love? Why didn’t they ever build a boat on Gilligan’s island? Why does the last bite of pasta primavera from your plate always taste better than my whole serving?”
“You really have your hands full.” Sharon agreed with playful solemnity.
“I miss you.” Brenda sighed, unable to hold it back any longer. “Not just… you… I miss us, I miss talking to you. I miss kissing you goodnight before falling asleep. I just… sorry, I’m trying to play it cool… but I really want everything to be okay this time. I want you to know how much I love you and how much you really mean to me.”
The brake lights of the car in front of her went out and she said a silent thank you that traffic was moving again. The wheels of the truck that she’d rented to haul the Christmas tree back in rolled slowly forward for a while before traffic thinned and started moving at a respectable speed.
“Are you still there?” Brenda asked softly, holding her breath waiting for Sharon to answer.
“I love you.” She whispered, “I love you so much it’s kind of ridiculous.”
“I wish I was there with you.” Brenda whimpered, “I can’t wait until you get back… I just want to kiss you and hold you and touch you…”
Sharon mmed softly and let out a breath slowly.
“What are you wearing?” Brenda purred.
“Ngh. I can’t do this right now… I’m driving…”
Brenda laid back against the pillows, her golden hair splaying out around her head and slipped her eyes shut. She let her free hand trail down her stomach and past the waist of her skirt. Once she was past the first layer she felt a little shier.
“Keep talking to me?” Brenda pleaded.
“Woman, you’re going to be the death of me.” Sharon groaned shakily.
“I miss feeling your fingers inside me.” Brenda admitted, letting her fingers slip past her panties and through the dark blonde curls. Her fingertip brushed her clit and she let out a breathy gasp.
“Oh god, Brenda.” Sharon gripped the steering wheel tightly. “If I was there with you I’d settle down between your legs and run my tongue up your inner thigh.”
“Mmm…” Brenda traced lazy circles on her clit, her hips starting to move with her fingers’ movements.
“I’d dip my tongue inside you and just… taste you and savor you…”
“Ooh, yes… Sharon…” Brenda moaned, dipping her fingers into her, letting the digits curl and press into all the sensitive spots.
“And I’d push three fingers into you just like you like…” Sharon smiled.
Brenda groaned through a grin. Sharon knew her body like no one ever had before her and she even knew how to carress her perfectly with her silken cadence. Brenda mumbled her name in appreciation, pumping her fingers, the heel of her hand rubbing against her clit.
“And I’d fuck you until you screamed.”
Brenda moaned, lifting her hips higher, “god, Sharon, I’m so close.”
“Come for me, Brenda,” Sharon whispered urgently, feeling the heat between her legs and wishing she was in a position to do something about it but it would have to be tabled until she got back to Los Angeles.
Brenda cried out, toppled over the edge by Sharon’s seductive tones, whimpering the older woman’s name as she orgasmed around her own fingers. Finally, satiated and spent she laid back against the pillows, letting her breathing return to normal.
“God Sharon…”
“You can just call me Sharon.” She smirked.
Brenda laughed, “you think you’re God’s gift to women, don’t you?”
“I’m God’s gift to the entire world, who are you kidding?” Sharon grinned, “I’m not the one who just called me God.”
“I’ll call you anything you want, just come home to me.” Brenda said sweetly, turning to lay on her side. “I just…”
“I know.”
There was silence for a few long moments. Sharon wanted to tell Brenda that she should just drive up, that the stay had barely started and she should just join them but that would surely put strain on the time spent with her children.
“When I get back let’s drive to the beach.”
“I’d like that.”
“I love you and I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Have a great time, Sharon. I love you.”
Sharon hung up the phone, she could see the Inn cresting on the hill but decided she may need an extra trip or two around the block to make her body forget the phone sex she’d just had.
In her spare bedroom in her apartment Brenda laid listening to her heartbeat for a few long minutes before swinging her legs over the side and stood up. Standing in front of her Phillip Strohe murder board she made the decision to push him from her mind during the lawsuit.
Whether or not she believed she was doing the right thing was immaterial and she decided that Mr. Strohe had to go back to the evidence vault for the time being. That was not to say that she’d ever forget, she would never ever forget. But, for the sake of her own freedom to continue working the case, she’d push him to the very back of her mind for now.
**
Their dinner was a very large bag of Chinese food that was eagerly awaited by her offspring. When she walked through the door James took it off of her hands and Angela brought her a beer. Sharon took a sip of the cold, crisp beer, letting it slide down her throat and she suddenly felt very present in the cabin with her children and not back in Los Angeles with Brenda.
The taste of the dry beer reminded her fondly of her father who, after quite a long fight with cancer, had died last spring. He’d always had a case of beer in the house and though she mostly preferred wine - and with Brenda she only drank wine - beer was a nice change from time to time.