Permanent Solution -- 1/? -- Brenda/Sharon
author Coco
fandom The Closer
pairing Brenda/Sharon
rating R
spoilers 5.03 - The episode we’re first introduced to Sharon and we find out what her department is and all that jazz, but really, there aren’t any spoilers.
disclaimers I do not own The Closer or Kyra Sedgwick or Mary McDonnell. BUMMER. I claim no ownership and I make no money off of my fanfiction. The mayor of Los Angeles is a real person but he’s fictionalized/dramatized for the purposes of this fic.
summary Follow-up to Temporary Blindness & Temporary Insanity & Temporary Termination. Here's part one of the fluffy follow up to the roller coaster ride of an epic. They deserve a little happiness, right? So do we... here's my attempt at fluff.
“I don’t understand what this ceremony is for.” Clay griped, sitting next to his wife on the couch in Sharon’s childhood home.
“It’s for your daughter because she deserves to be happy.” Willie Rae snapped.
“I know that. I didn’t say I didn’t want her to be happy, did I?” Clay looked over at Willie Rae’s stern expression and he was reminded, as he was every time he looked at her, why he loved her and knew that he would always choose her over everything. “No.” He answered his own question. “I didn’t.”
“Oh Clay, hush.” Willie Rae chastized as she went back to scanning the clipboard in her hand.
“Don’t hush me.” He insisted, “all I was saying is that it’s not a legal wedding, right? So why call it a wedding?”
“Should I have made out the invitation: ‘Clay and Willie Rae Johnson cordially invite you to the coupling of their daughter with her gay lover?’” Willie Rae teased. A year ago she would have balked at saying the words gay and lover and daughter in the same sentence but she’d gotten used to the idea that she was gaining a daughter.
A daughter who actually knew how to cook; a daughter that maybe she might understand.
Clay snorted and crossed his arms across his chest. After a few minutes of silence Smitty entered the living room, “Mrs. Johnson, the flowers just arrived, where do you want them to go?”
“Oh, just leave them in the kitchen, dear,” Willie Rae smiled, “and call me Willie Rae.”
“Lawrence,” Clay said, grabbing Smitty’s attention, “tell me one thing, what do we fight wars for if it isn’t for freedom? And what is freedom if two people who love each other can’t get legally married?”
“You’ve got me, sir.” Smitty answered.
“Don’t bother Lawrence, Clay, he’s got some more errands to run for Sharon.”
Smitty smiled, “Best Man duties and all.” He went to the stairs and called up, “hey Shark, I’m off.”
“Okay,” she called back, “you have the list?”
“Never leave home without it.” He laughed. “Think of anything else you need?”
“I don’t think so.” Sharon came to the top of the stairs, “thanks again for running my errands. You didn’t have to offer.”
“You do realize I’ve never gotten to be a best man, right? It’s what I get for being best friends with a chick, huh?”
Sharon reached out and punched him playfully in the arm. “Get out of here.”
Smitty feigned pain as he clutched his arm, “ow, watch out for the Shark Attack!” Sharon glared and pursed her lips but finally laughed at her best friend. “Alright, back in a few. Willie Rae do you need anything while I’m out?”
Willie Rae thought about the pitcher of sweet tea brewing in the sun on the back porch and shook her head, “no thank you, dear, I’m all set.”
Smitty said bye to everyone again and left.
“Oh Sharon, why don’t you go try on your dress?” Willie Rae smiled.
“I tried it on yesterday in the store.”
“But Clay hasn’t seen it yet,” she turned to her husband, “wait until you see this, she’s a vision.”
“Alright, Willie Rae,” Sharon nodded and headed back up the stairs.
Brenda passed Sharon on the stairs and gave her an apologetic smile. “Mama, are you torturing Sharon again?”
“You’re so dramatic, Brenda Leigh. Always using words like torture and coup and dictator. She’s just puttin on a dress not leading an army into battle.”
Brenda sat down on the couch next to her father. “Mama hasn’t put you to work yet?”
“Shh, don’t remind her.” Clay whispered.
“I can hear you,” Willie Rae shook her head with an affectionate snicker.
Sharon walked down the stairs, feeling embarrassed to be taking a stroll down the catwalk in front of the Johnsons.
Brenda’s mouth parted as she took in a deep breath at the sight of Sharon. Back in Los Angeles Sharon had finally decided on wearing her favorite Armani skirt suit but had never been perfectly happy with her selection. Willie Rae wanted to go shopping in Washington D.C. and when Sharon had chanced upon the dress she was instantly in love and when it fit her perfectly she bought it on the spot.
Willie Rae had paled at the price tag as Sharon handed over her gold card.
Sharon stood in front of the Johnsons in her long red silk Vera Wang gown. “It’s not the full effect, of course,” Sharon insisted, smoothing the fabric over her stomach self-consciously, “try to picture it with an updo, chandelier earrings and a pair of Manolo pumps.”
“Sharon, dear, stop fussing with the bodice.” Willie Rae stood up and walked over to Sharon, taking her hands to still them. “This dress cost you more than we paid for the down payment on our first house.”
“Mama, it’s Sharon’s dress, she can do whatever she wants with it.”
“She can do whatever she wants with it after the pictures.” Willie Rae smiled. “You look beautiful, Sharon. Why don’t you go change and we can get going to the spa?”
Sharon nodded and retreated back up the stairs. Sharon was allowing Willie Rae to treat her to an afternoon of pampering, Willie Rae had never succeeded in convincing Brenda to join her and Sharon was the fresh meat. Sharon found it sweet and found herself melancholy for her own mother, the woman she’d never really gotten to know, hadn’t spent enough time with when she’d had the chance.
Despite herself, Sharon was looking forward to spending the time with Willie Rae. It had taken some getting used to, at first, how hands-on and affectionate the Johnsons were but they’d taken to her like the long lost daughter they never had.
“You’re sure you won’t join us, Brenda Leigh?” Willie Rae asked.
“Mama, I have to pick everyone up from the airport in two hours.” Brenda protested. She stood up from the couch and ascended the stairs. Pushing open the door to Sharon’s room she called, “just me,” before entering.
Sharon was out of her gown and dressed casually in a pair of yoga pants and an old tee shirt. Hanging in the closet side by side were the new gown and the old skirt suit. Brenda wasn’t surprised that Sharon needed new clothes, during the first two months after she was shot she’d dropped nearly twenty pounds and none of her clothes fit the right way anymore. Sharon hadn’t replaced her clothing even though it had been nearly a year because she was uncomfortable having clothing pressed too hard against her stomach.
“You look really beautiful in your dress, Sharon.”
“Thank you.” Sharon smiled.
“You don’t really have to go to the spa with my mama.”
Sharon laughed, “I want to.”
“You want her you can have her.” Brenda joked. “I think she’d trade you for me in a heart beat. Did I tell you how long she went on about your pumpkin pie?”
“I’ll just borrow her for a little while.”
Brenda pulled Sharon into her arms and held her tightly. “Do you remember when we used to hate each other?”
“Used to?”
Brenda laughed and gave Sharon a squeeze. “Can I see your stomach?”
“You see my stomach all the time.” Sharon protested.
She’d been running again and in the last couple of months she started going to the gym and working out to the point of exhaustion. All of the exercise did little to help Sharon fit into her clothes again. Brenda had always been a twig, she had a ravenous sweet tooth but never gained an ounce. She didn’t have the time or the patience for the gym but, then again, she’d never really needed it either. Sharon had a tendency to put weight on at the hips and the bust if she neglected her exercise but lately she’d been working out like it was going out of style.
Sharon’s obsessive exercise was the latest in many rebellions against the thought that she might be, in any way, fragile. Laying back on the bed she let Brenda pull her shirt up. Brenda laid her head gently against the warm flesh.
Reaching up, she traced a finger along the long scar and uneven skin. Sharon’s abs were spectacular, they were taut and firm and sexy but were vivisected by the evidence of her pain.
Sharon pushed her shirt down, she was done with that.
“Alright,” Brenda stood and smoothed out her skirt, “have fun at the spa.”
**
It had only been a week since Brenda had seen the boys of her squad but seeing Flynn and Provenza bickering, Gabriel, Buzz and Tao carrying on about getting their luggage and Sanchez coolysauntering down the hallway Brenda felt a smile pull at the corners of her lips.
“It’s not too late, Chief,” Provenza said, approaching, “you can get on a plane and go far far away from here.”
“Good to see you, too, Lieutenant.” Brenda smiled, “what’d y’all get us for a wedding present? Matching brooms?”
Provenza unexpectedly hit Flynn in the upper arm. Flynn turned in surprise and Provenza joked, “you told!”
“Congratulations, Chief.” Gabriel didn’t feel like waiting for Flynn and Provenza to decide they were done. He hugged Brenda and she smiled.
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Raydor didn’t come with you?” Sanchez asked, looking around. Of all the members of her squad, Sanchez had always had the softest spot for Captain Raydor. Brenda suspected that he had a crush on her.
“My mama dragged her off to the spa.” Brenda rolled her eyes dramatically, “better her than me.”
“What exactly does the wedding party consist of, Chief?” Tao asked. In his mind Raydor must be the man but Brenda didn’t have any female friends to have bridesmaids.
“Well, Sharon’s friend Smitty is her best man but he’s not actually going to stand with her at the ceremony. It’s mostly just so he has an excuse to throw her an extravagant rave this evening.”
“I have a very important question, Chief.” Sanchez asked seriously, “will there be strippers?”
fandom The Closer
pairing Brenda/Sharon
rating R
spoilers 5.03 - The episode we’re first introduced to Sharon and we find out what her department is and all that jazz, but really, there aren’t any spoilers.
disclaimers I do not own The Closer or Kyra Sedgwick or Mary McDonnell. BUMMER. I claim no ownership and I make no money off of my fanfiction. The mayor of Los Angeles is a real person but he’s fictionalized/dramatized for the purposes of this fic.
summary Follow-up to Temporary Blindness & Temporary Insanity & Temporary Termination. Here's part one of the fluffy follow up to the roller coaster ride of an epic. They deserve a little happiness, right? So do we... here's my attempt at fluff.
“I don’t understand what this ceremony is for.” Clay griped, sitting next to his wife on the couch in Sharon’s childhood home.
“It’s for your daughter because she deserves to be happy.” Willie Rae snapped.
“I know that. I didn’t say I didn’t want her to be happy, did I?” Clay looked over at Willie Rae’s stern expression and he was reminded, as he was every time he looked at her, why he loved her and knew that he would always choose her over everything. “No.” He answered his own question. “I didn’t.”
“Oh Clay, hush.” Willie Rae chastized as she went back to scanning the clipboard in her hand.
“Don’t hush me.” He insisted, “all I was saying is that it’s not a legal wedding, right? So why call it a wedding?”
“Should I have made out the invitation: ‘Clay and Willie Rae Johnson cordially invite you to the coupling of their daughter with her gay lover?’” Willie Rae teased. A year ago she would have balked at saying the words gay and lover and daughter in the same sentence but she’d gotten used to the idea that she was gaining a daughter.
A daughter who actually knew how to cook; a daughter that maybe she might understand.
Clay snorted and crossed his arms across his chest. After a few minutes of silence Smitty entered the living room, “Mrs. Johnson, the flowers just arrived, where do you want them to go?”
“Oh, just leave them in the kitchen, dear,” Willie Rae smiled, “and call me Willie Rae.”
“Lawrence,” Clay said, grabbing Smitty’s attention, “tell me one thing, what do we fight wars for if it isn’t for freedom? And what is freedom if two people who love each other can’t get legally married?”
“You’ve got me, sir.” Smitty answered.
“Don’t bother Lawrence, Clay, he’s got some more errands to run for Sharon.”
Smitty smiled, “Best Man duties and all.” He went to the stairs and called up, “hey Shark, I’m off.”
“Okay,” she called back, “you have the list?”
“Never leave home without it.” He laughed. “Think of anything else you need?”
“I don’t think so.” Sharon came to the top of the stairs, “thanks again for running my errands. You didn’t have to offer.”
“You do realize I’ve never gotten to be a best man, right? It’s what I get for being best friends with a chick, huh?”
Sharon reached out and punched him playfully in the arm. “Get out of here.”
Smitty feigned pain as he clutched his arm, “ow, watch out for the Shark Attack!” Sharon glared and pursed her lips but finally laughed at her best friend. “Alright, back in a few. Willie Rae do you need anything while I’m out?”
Willie Rae thought about the pitcher of sweet tea brewing in the sun on the back porch and shook her head, “no thank you, dear, I’m all set.”
Smitty said bye to everyone again and left.
“Oh Sharon, why don’t you go try on your dress?” Willie Rae smiled.
“I tried it on yesterday in the store.”
“But Clay hasn’t seen it yet,” she turned to her husband, “wait until you see this, she’s a vision.”
“Alright, Willie Rae,” Sharon nodded and headed back up the stairs.
Brenda passed Sharon on the stairs and gave her an apologetic smile. “Mama, are you torturing Sharon again?”
“You’re so dramatic, Brenda Leigh. Always using words like torture and coup and dictator. She’s just puttin on a dress not leading an army into battle.”
Brenda sat down on the couch next to her father. “Mama hasn’t put you to work yet?”
“Shh, don’t remind her.” Clay whispered.
“I can hear you,” Willie Rae shook her head with an affectionate snicker.
Sharon walked down the stairs, feeling embarrassed to be taking a stroll down the catwalk in front of the Johnsons.
Brenda’s mouth parted as she took in a deep breath at the sight of Sharon. Back in Los Angeles Sharon had finally decided on wearing her favorite Armani skirt suit but had never been perfectly happy with her selection. Willie Rae wanted to go shopping in Washington D.C. and when Sharon had chanced upon the dress she was instantly in love and when it fit her perfectly she bought it on the spot.
Willie Rae had paled at the price tag as Sharon handed over her gold card.
Sharon stood in front of the Johnsons in her long red silk Vera Wang gown. “It’s not the full effect, of course,” Sharon insisted, smoothing the fabric over her stomach self-consciously, “try to picture it with an updo, chandelier earrings and a pair of Manolo pumps.”
“Sharon, dear, stop fussing with the bodice.” Willie Rae stood up and walked over to Sharon, taking her hands to still them. “This dress cost you more than we paid for the down payment on our first house.”
“Mama, it’s Sharon’s dress, she can do whatever she wants with it.”
“She can do whatever she wants with it after the pictures.” Willie Rae smiled. “You look beautiful, Sharon. Why don’t you go change and we can get going to the spa?”
Sharon nodded and retreated back up the stairs. Sharon was allowing Willie Rae to treat her to an afternoon of pampering, Willie Rae had never succeeded in convincing Brenda to join her and Sharon was the fresh meat. Sharon found it sweet and found herself melancholy for her own mother, the woman she’d never really gotten to know, hadn’t spent enough time with when she’d had the chance.
Despite herself, Sharon was looking forward to spending the time with Willie Rae. It had taken some getting used to, at first, how hands-on and affectionate the Johnsons were but they’d taken to her like the long lost daughter they never had.
“You’re sure you won’t join us, Brenda Leigh?” Willie Rae asked.
“Mama, I have to pick everyone up from the airport in two hours.” Brenda protested. She stood up from the couch and ascended the stairs. Pushing open the door to Sharon’s room she called, “just me,” before entering.
Sharon was out of her gown and dressed casually in a pair of yoga pants and an old tee shirt. Hanging in the closet side by side were the new gown and the old skirt suit. Brenda wasn’t surprised that Sharon needed new clothes, during the first two months after she was shot she’d dropped nearly twenty pounds and none of her clothes fit the right way anymore. Sharon hadn’t replaced her clothing even though it had been nearly a year because she was uncomfortable having clothing pressed too hard against her stomach.
“You look really beautiful in your dress, Sharon.”
“Thank you.” Sharon smiled.
“You don’t really have to go to the spa with my mama.”
Sharon laughed, “I want to.”
“You want her you can have her.” Brenda joked. “I think she’d trade you for me in a heart beat. Did I tell you how long she went on about your pumpkin pie?”
“I’ll just borrow her for a little while.”
Brenda pulled Sharon into her arms and held her tightly. “Do you remember when we used to hate each other?”
“Used to?”
Brenda laughed and gave Sharon a squeeze. “Can I see your stomach?”
“You see my stomach all the time.” Sharon protested.
She’d been running again and in the last couple of months she started going to the gym and working out to the point of exhaustion. All of the exercise did little to help Sharon fit into her clothes again. Brenda had always been a twig, she had a ravenous sweet tooth but never gained an ounce. She didn’t have the time or the patience for the gym but, then again, she’d never really needed it either. Sharon had a tendency to put weight on at the hips and the bust if she neglected her exercise but lately she’d been working out like it was going out of style.
Sharon’s obsessive exercise was the latest in many rebellions against the thought that she might be, in any way, fragile. Laying back on the bed she let Brenda pull her shirt up. Brenda laid her head gently against the warm flesh.
Reaching up, she traced a finger along the long scar and uneven skin. Sharon’s abs were spectacular, they were taut and firm and sexy but were vivisected by the evidence of her pain.
Sharon pushed her shirt down, she was done with that.
“Alright,” Brenda stood and smoothed out her skirt, “have fun at the spa.”
**
It had only been a week since Brenda had seen the boys of her squad but seeing Flynn and Provenza bickering, Gabriel, Buzz and Tao carrying on about getting their luggage and Sanchez coolysauntering down the hallway Brenda felt a smile pull at the corners of her lips.
“It’s not too late, Chief,” Provenza said, approaching, “you can get on a plane and go far far away from here.”
“Good to see you, too, Lieutenant.” Brenda smiled, “what’d y’all get us for a wedding present? Matching brooms?”
Provenza unexpectedly hit Flynn in the upper arm. Flynn turned in surprise and Provenza joked, “you told!”
“Congratulations, Chief.” Gabriel didn’t feel like waiting for Flynn and Provenza to decide they were done. He hugged Brenda and she smiled.
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Raydor didn’t come with you?” Sanchez asked, looking around. Of all the members of her squad, Sanchez had always had the softest spot for Captain Raydor. Brenda suspected that he had a crush on her.
“My mama dragged her off to the spa.” Brenda rolled her eyes dramatically, “better her than me.”
“What exactly does the wedding party consist of, Chief?” Tao asked. In his mind Raydor must be the man but Brenda didn’t have any female friends to have bridesmaids.
“Well, Sharon’s friend Smitty is her best man but he’s not actually going to stand with her at the ceremony. It’s mostly just so he has an excuse to throw her an extravagant rave this evening.”
“I have a very important question, Chief.” Sanchez asked seriously, “will there be strippers?”