Laws of Attraction - Chapter Thirty-Nine: Here's To the Corkscrew! [B]
Title: Laws of Attraction
Author: Major Roon
Fandom: The Closer
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Rating: NC-17/M
Brenda smiled at her and drank her wine. “So. That Officer Crawler.”
“Crawley.”
“Whatever. You think he’s dangerous?”
Sharon blinked at her, clueless as to what brought on this line of questioning. “I think it wouldn’t be advisable or appropriate to discuss this at present.” The brunette licked her lip a little.
“Well,” Brenda forgot about her pasta. “Lieutenant Provenza is handlin’ the investigation. So?” She prompted once more.
The brunette contemplated it for a moment with a very serious expression on her face then her lips parted and she glanced at the wine in her hand. “Off the record?” She asked over the rim of the glass.
Brenda glared at her, partly amused - what else would it be in the middle of the night over wine and pasta?
“He’s gone off the deep end.”
“Really,” the blonde wondered, intrigued. “Why’s that?”
Sharon leaned forward in her seat, her lips coming closer, at least that was all Brenda could focus on and then she said, “He’s an alcoholic but refuses to get help, he is not very well liked by his peers, he harasses female colleagues, he is remiss in his duties and a liability to the police department.”
To blonde took it in, studied Sharon’s face, knowing the brunette was waiting for her to jump to Officer what’s-his-face’s defense but Brenda made the conscious decision not to.
She had always been quick to reject whatever suggestion came out of Sharon’s mouth, had dismissed her on numerous occasions and had overruled her decisions unnecessarily.
Brenda knew in that instance, sitting in Sharon’s kitchen with wine and pasta while shamelessly enjoying the sight of her naked legs, that she had done it in part because she had been incredibly infatuated with the idea of bedding the woman.
And now that she had achieved such, Brenda tried to rationalize, perhaps she should try to avoid being such a royal bitch.
“This isn’t the first time he’s shown up and harassed you, is it?”
Sharon seemed surprised at that then nodded. “He has been in and out of FID a few times,” she admitted then took a big swig of her wine. “He once waited for me in the parking lot.”
Brenda wanted to tell the woman to get a restraining order, to file charges, anything but decided not to. She swallowed heavily; Raydor wouldn’t appreciate it. “Well...” She looked up to find Sharon staring into the distance.
“I was scared.”
Brenda nodded. “I would’ve been too.”
The brunette’s eyes crinkled at the corners as an indulgent smile lifted her lips upwards. “Honey,” she patted Brenda’s knee. “If he thinks he can win this then he better bring it on.”
The blonde smiled. “I feel tipsy.” She laughed.
“Me too,” Sharon whispered conspiringly. “More wine?”
“My, Cap’n, if I didn’t know you any better I’d think you were tryin’ to get us both drunk.” Brenda held out her glass despite what she had said.
“That would be silly.”
The blonde grinned and spoke without thinking, “We both know what happens when you’ve had too much...” It was the wrong thing to say, Brenda realized as soon as the words had left her mouth. Addressing the pink elephant - Sharon’s pink elephant, not that Brenda cared - it was too early for that.
Her tipsy revelation seemed ages ago but ultimately it had only happened yesterday.
Were they supposed to talk about it? Brenda wondered for a split-second, or was she supposed to ignore it? Judging from Sharon’s reaction, she suspected it might have been the latter.
The brunette gave her an icy stare, making it quite clear that Brenda just did a horrendous thing. She had betrayed her. The blonde swallowed and put her glass down. “I didn’t mean--”
“I told you that I do not want to talk about this, at all. Ever. What part of that did you not understand?”
“You didn’t say that,” Brenda argued and watched her get up. “You only said not to tell anyone...which I haven’t!”
“Oh, boo hoo! Big accomplishment!” Sharon swept out of the kitchen but not without her glass and the left-over bottle of wine.
Brenda scoffed and rolled her eyes, frustrated, and stomped her foot.
That woman!
“Ooooh!” She hurried after her.
Sharon had swerved into the bedroom and, as Brenda made it there, she found the woman tossing her robe on the floor. She advanced on her, wearing a flimsy little negligee which, Brenda had been convinced, only beautiful women in movies wore.
“You’re not staying,” Sharon announced and grabbed her by the shoulder, walking her out of the room. “And I’m keeping the wine.”
“Now hold on one minute!”
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t care!”
Brenda wrestled her arm free, “Neither do I! I don’t care ‘bout...‘bout that!” The blonde sighed and took her Captain in, standing before her, arms crossed over her chest. She knew she wouldn’t say the right thing, Brenda knew what she was like, but she couldn’t help but try.
After all, if Raydor threw her out, she would have to drive all the way home.
“Sharon...I never say the right things--”
“Then don’t.”
“But I--”
“No,” Sharon silenced her with her hand. “I don’t need you to say anything.”
Brenda nibbled on her lower lip.
“What do you care anyway?”
“I just do,” the blonde said without thinking and regretted it the instant she had, blaming the wine for her loose tongue. “I do care.”
“Hmm,” Sharon hummed, unimpressed. “I just figured this out,” she said evenly, “It took me this long and that’s not even the worst part.”
Brenda stepped closer. “What is it?” She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“I can’t stand what you’ve turned me into.”
“A lesbian?” The blonde wondered disbelievingly.
If the look Sharon gave her could kill, Brenda would have dropped dead on the spot.
“A cheater.”
“Oh. Well...” The blonde pursed her lips, put out and petulant. “You’re just as much at fault as I am.”
Sharon nodded, once. “True.”
“I’m your guinea pig after all...” She shouldn’t have said that either, Brenda realized. Taking a deep breath, she studied her companion for a moment, feeling a sudden surge of compassion. “I don’t know why I’ve been so mean to you.”
“Have been?”
“I didn’t mean to say what I’ve said in the kitchen! It just came out.”
“Has your mother not taught you to think before you speak?”
Brenda shivered at the force of her anger. “You’re just...impossible!”
And then, rather unexpectedly, Sharon kissed her right on the mouth. Her back hit the wall and she almost slipped out of her shoe as her Captain crashed into her.
Whatever had happened in the woman’s brain, it had resulted in this. Brenda was taken aback at the rough treatment, not that she really wanted to object, but even in the throes of passion, her Captain had not behaved this way before.
The blonde felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand in a mixture of fear and excitement. Sharon mouthed her way down her throat, Brenda resisted swallowing nervously as she felt the woman’s teeth scrape against her pulse point.
Sharon kissed her collar bone, pulling at her button-up sweater and ripped it open, not that she had meant to, and a button went flying, landing on the hardwood floor.
They both stilled and watched it roll towards the front door where it stopped.
Brenda turned slowly, nervously sucking her bottom lip in, and found Sharon staring at her. Green eyes mapped her face, her lips especially which, and it made Brenda blush to admit it, made her feel self-conscious and somewhat prayed upon.
The blonde swallowed.
“Why don’t we--”
“Shhhh,” Sharon shushed her with a finger on her lips.
Brenda glanced downwards awkwardly.
“Be. Quiet.”
The blonde didn’t appreciate being spoken to like that yet felt strangely intimidated - it wasn’t the Captain’s authoritative tone or her hard stare, it was more the fact that it came as a surprise...as well as Sharon’s overpowering proximity that had Brenda weak in the knees.
She slid down the wall a bit in response, telling herself that she would let her Captain continue; after all, she kind of deserved it and perhaps she should make an effort and give her Sharon what she had wanted in the first place - some peace and quiet - before she had intruded upon her evening.
And, Brenda hoped somewhere in the back of her mind, her Captain better appreciate this and apologize for her ripped sweater because usually Brenda was the opposite of quiet and it took her a tremendous amount of self-control to keep her mouth shut.
Raydor pushed her skirt up - it was a blue and white floral design and Brenda wondered briefly how vile Sharon thought it was - then the woman pulled her underwear down her thighs.
Brenda stepped out of them, she had no other choice and lost a shoe in the process. Awkwardly slipping out of the other, she came eye to eye with the woman. There was a brief moment of calm and then Sharon just dragged her down the hall.
Like a ballerina, on her tippy toes, Brenda tried to keep up, feeling her sweater stretch where Sharon had fisted it and was pulling her along. The blonde sucked on her kiss-bruised lip as she was shoved into the bedroom.
She wondered what Sharon had seen reflected back at her, she wondered what was going to happen.
She wondered how stupid it had been to assume she could take anything the woman threw her way.
The robe was still lying on the floor. The wine bottle and Sharon’s glass stood on the dresser next to the door. The covers on the bed were thrown to the side and the book Sharon had been reading sat face down on the nightstand.
The woman appeared before her with the glass on its way to her smirking lips as she took in what Brenda knew to be her somewhat bedraggled appearance.
“You ruined my sweater,” she said petulantly, pulling at a loose thread which was what remained of the button.
Sharon gave her the glass, not leaving her any choice whether to hold it or not and smiled a little. “You may thank me later.”
That answered her earlier question, Brenda thought, evidently Sharon thought her dress and the sweater were horrendously vile.
“What are you doin’?” She wondered as the woman rounded her and opened her nightstand.
Brenda realized right away what it was that Sharon held in her hand as she approached but her brain was slower to catch up.
In disbelieve and almost wonder she watched in a nauseating sense of slow motion as Sharon relieved her rather nonchalantly of the wine glass and then, once it clicked...it clicked.
“Captain!”
“Shhhh!” Sharon shushed her yet again and took a sip of her wine. “I told you to be quiet.”
The blonde stamped her foot. “Gimme that key.”
Raydor shook her head a little, pulling her along. “Nuh uh...”
“Captain!” Brenda protested yet couldn’t bring herself to really resist. “You better release me right this instance!”
“You know,” Sharon lifted an eyebrow, “How about pretty please?” She said.
And cuffed her to the bed.
Author: Major Roon
Fandom: The Closer
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Rating: NC-17/M
Brenda smiled at her and drank her wine. “So. That Officer Crawler.”
“Crawley.”
“Whatever. You think he’s dangerous?”
Sharon blinked at her, clueless as to what brought on this line of questioning. “I think it wouldn’t be advisable or appropriate to discuss this at present.” The brunette licked her lip a little.
“Well,” Brenda forgot about her pasta. “Lieutenant Provenza is handlin’ the investigation. So?” She prompted once more.
The brunette contemplated it for a moment with a very serious expression on her face then her lips parted and she glanced at the wine in her hand. “Off the record?” She asked over the rim of the glass.
Brenda glared at her, partly amused - what else would it be in the middle of the night over wine and pasta?
“He’s gone off the deep end.”
“Really,” the blonde wondered, intrigued. “Why’s that?”
Sharon leaned forward in her seat, her lips coming closer, at least that was all Brenda could focus on and then she said, “He’s an alcoholic but refuses to get help, he is not very well liked by his peers, he harasses female colleagues, he is remiss in his duties and a liability to the police department.”
To blonde took it in, studied Sharon’s face, knowing the brunette was waiting for her to jump to Officer what’s-his-face’s defense but Brenda made the conscious decision not to.
She had always been quick to reject whatever suggestion came out of Sharon’s mouth, had dismissed her on numerous occasions and had overruled her decisions unnecessarily.
Brenda knew in that instance, sitting in Sharon’s kitchen with wine and pasta while shamelessly enjoying the sight of her naked legs, that she had done it in part because she had been incredibly infatuated with the idea of bedding the woman.
And now that she had achieved such, Brenda tried to rationalize, perhaps she should try to avoid being such a royal bitch.
“This isn’t the first time he’s shown up and harassed you, is it?”
Sharon seemed surprised at that then nodded. “He has been in and out of FID a few times,” she admitted then took a big swig of her wine. “He once waited for me in the parking lot.”
Brenda wanted to tell the woman to get a restraining order, to file charges, anything but decided not to. She swallowed heavily; Raydor wouldn’t appreciate it. “Well...” She looked up to find Sharon staring into the distance.
“I was scared.”
Brenda nodded. “I would’ve been too.”
The brunette’s eyes crinkled at the corners as an indulgent smile lifted her lips upwards. “Honey,” she patted Brenda’s knee. “If he thinks he can win this then he better bring it on.”
The blonde smiled. “I feel tipsy.” She laughed.
“Me too,” Sharon whispered conspiringly. “More wine?”
“My, Cap’n, if I didn’t know you any better I’d think you were tryin’ to get us both drunk.” Brenda held out her glass despite what she had said.
“That would be silly.”
The blonde grinned and spoke without thinking, “We both know what happens when you’ve had too much...” It was the wrong thing to say, Brenda realized as soon as the words had left her mouth. Addressing the pink elephant - Sharon’s pink elephant, not that Brenda cared - it was too early for that.
Her tipsy revelation seemed ages ago but ultimately it had only happened yesterday.
Were they supposed to talk about it? Brenda wondered for a split-second, or was she supposed to ignore it? Judging from Sharon’s reaction, she suspected it might have been the latter.
The brunette gave her an icy stare, making it quite clear that Brenda just did a horrendous thing. She had betrayed her. The blonde swallowed and put her glass down. “I didn’t mean--”
“I told you that I do not want to talk about this, at all. Ever. What part of that did you not understand?”
“You didn’t say that,” Brenda argued and watched her get up. “You only said not to tell anyone...which I haven’t!”
“Oh, boo hoo! Big accomplishment!” Sharon swept out of the kitchen but not without her glass and the left-over bottle of wine.
Brenda scoffed and rolled her eyes, frustrated, and stomped her foot.
That woman!
“Ooooh!” She hurried after her.
Sharon had swerved into the bedroom and, as Brenda made it there, she found the woman tossing her robe on the floor. She advanced on her, wearing a flimsy little negligee which, Brenda had been convinced, only beautiful women in movies wore.
“You’re not staying,” Sharon announced and grabbed her by the shoulder, walking her out of the room. “And I’m keeping the wine.”
“Now hold on one minute!”
“Whatever you have to say, I don’t care!”
Brenda wrestled her arm free, “Neither do I! I don’t care ‘bout...‘bout that!” The blonde sighed and took her Captain in, standing before her, arms crossed over her chest. She knew she wouldn’t say the right thing, Brenda knew what she was like, but she couldn’t help but try.
After all, if Raydor threw her out, she would have to drive all the way home.
“Sharon...I never say the right things--”
“Then don’t.”
“But I--”
“No,” Sharon silenced her with her hand. “I don’t need you to say anything.”
Brenda nibbled on her lower lip.
“What do you care anyway?”
“I just do,” the blonde said without thinking and regretted it the instant she had, blaming the wine for her loose tongue. “I do care.”
“Hmm,” Sharon hummed, unimpressed. “I just figured this out,” she said evenly, “It took me this long and that’s not even the worst part.”
Brenda stepped closer. “What is it?” She asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.
“I can’t stand what you’ve turned me into.”
“A lesbian?” The blonde wondered disbelievingly.
If the look Sharon gave her could kill, Brenda would have dropped dead on the spot.
“A cheater.”
“Oh. Well...” The blonde pursed her lips, put out and petulant. “You’re just as much at fault as I am.”
Sharon nodded, once. “True.”
“I’m your guinea pig after all...” She shouldn’t have said that either, Brenda realized. Taking a deep breath, she studied her companion for a moment, feeling a sudden surge of compassion. “I don’t know why I’ve been so mean to you.”
“Have been?”
“I didn’t mean to say what I’ve said in the kitchen! It just came out.”
“Has your mother not taught you to think before you speak?”
Brenda shivered at the force of her anger. “You’re just...impossible!”
And then, rather unexpectedly, Sharon kissed her right on the mouth. Her back hit the wall and she almost slipped out of her shoe as her Captain crashed into her.
Whatever had happened in the woman’s brain, it had resulted in this. Brenda was taken aback at the rough treatment, not that she really wanted to object, but even in the throes of passion, her Captain had not behaved this way before.
The blonde felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand in a mixture of fear and excitement. Sharon mouthed her way down her throat, Brenda resisted swallowing nervously as she felt the woman’s teeth scrape against her pulse point.
Sharon kissed her collar bone, pulling at her button-up sweater and ripped it open, not that she had meant to, and a button went flying, landing on the hardwood floor.
They both stilled and watched it roll towards the front door where it stopped.
Brenda turned slowly, nervously sucking her bottom lip in, and found Sharon staring at her. Green eyes mapped her face, her lips especially which, and it made Brenda blush to admit it, made her feel self-conscious and somewhat prayed upon.
The blonde swallowed.
“Why don’t we--”
“Shhhh,” Sharon shushed her with a finger on her lips.
Brenda glanced downwards awkwardly.
“Be. Quiet.”
The blonde didn’t appreciate being spoken to like that yet felt strangely intimidated - it wasn’t the Captain’s authoritative tone or her hard stare, it was more the fact that it came as a surprise...as well as Sharon’s overpowering proximity that had Brenda weak in the knees.
She slid down the wall a bit in response, telling herself that she would let her Captain continue; after all, she kind of deserved it and perhaps she should make an effort and give her Sharon what she had wanted in the first place - some peace and quiet - before she had intruded upon her evening.
And, Brenda hoped somewhere in the back of her mind, her Captain better appreciate this and apologize for her ripped sweater because usually Brenda was the opposite of quiet and it took her a tremendous amount of self-control to keep her mouth shut.
Raydor pushed her skirt up - it was a blue and white floral design and Brenda wondered briefly how vile Sharon thought it was - then the woman pulled her underwear down her thighs.
Brenda stepped out of them, she had no other choice and lost a shoe in the process. Awkwardly slipping out of the other, she came eye to eye with the woman. There was a brief moment of calm and then Sharon just dragged her down the hall.
Like a ballerina, on her tippy toes, Brenda tried to keep up, feeling her sweater stretch where Sharon had fisted it and was pulling her along. The blonde sucked on her kiss-bruised lip as she was shoved into the bedroom.
She wondered what Sharon had seen reflected back at her, she wondered what was going to happen.
She wondered how stupid it had been to assume she could take anything the woman threw her way.
The robe was still lying on the floor. The wine bottle and Sharon’s glass stood on the dresser next to the door. The covers on the bed were thrown to the side and the book Sharon had been reading sat face down on the nightstand.
The woman appeared before her with the glass on its way to her smirking lips as she took in what Brenda knew to be her somewhat bedraggled appearance.
“You ruined my sweater,” she said petulantly, pulling at a loose thread which was what remained of the button.
Sharon gave her the glass, not leaving her any choice whether to hold it or not and smiled a little. “You may thank me later.”
That answered her earlier question, Brenda thought, evidently Sharon thought her dress and the sweater were horrendously vile.
“What are you doin’?” She wondered as the woman rounded her and opened her nightstand.
Brenda realized right away what it was that Sharon held in her hand as she approached but her brain was slower to catch up.
In disbelieve and almost wonder she watched in a nauseating sense of slow motion as Sharon relieved her rather nonchalantly of the wine glass and then, once it clicked...it clicked.
“Captain!”
“Shhhh!” Sharon shushed her yet again and took a sip of her wine. “I told you to be quiet.”
The blonde stamped her foot. “Gimme that key.”
Raydor shook her head a little, pulling her along. “Nuh uh...”
“Captain!” Brenda protested yet couldn’t bring herself to really resist. “You better release me right this instance!”
“You know,” Sharon lifted an eyebrow, “How about pretty please?” She said.
And cuffed her to the bed.