Fic: Impossible
Title: Impossible
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Fandom: Major Crimes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,881
Prompt: Bite Me by ladybamfs
Summary: A little domestic scene between Brenda, Sharon and Rusty.
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
A/N: This is just fluffy beyond belief. So be aware of over-sweetness.
“Sharon? Are you home?” Brenda asked, dumping her bag and shoes near the side table at the entrance. Sharon would chastise her later for her messiness and basically demand that she put her stuff away properly, which Brenda would do without complaining, secretly smiling at Sharon’s neatness. Rusty looked away from the television where some unrecognizable action film was playing. “Hey Rusty.”
“Hey. She’s in the kitchen. Baking.” Brenda nearly snorted at the way Rusty pronounced the word baking. He either hated what Sharon was doing or he was afraid Sharon was going nuts. She shrugged out of her cardigan and draped it over the couch, again something Sharon was going to make her clean up later, resisted the urge to ruffle Rusty’s hair, knowing he hated it and walked towards Sharon. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, bend over the counter, barefoot, still in her suit, sans blazer, wearing a ridiculous apron.
“Hey you. Watcha doing?” Without jostling Sharon, she brushed aside some of the thick hair and kissed her cheek, watching as Sharon carefully put perfect pink rounds of some sort of goo on a baking tray with a piping bag, another tray already filled, a look of concentration on her face. Brenda frowned at Sharon’s lack of response and took a step back, watching as the Captain continued to work.
“I’m making macarons, which is an extremely delicate process so if you give me a few seconds I can say hello properly.” Brenda raised her eyebrows at Sharon’s bossy tone. She normally only sounded like that when she had done something wrong. Biting her bottom lip, she waited with her arms crossed for Sharon to be done with what turned out to be piping the halves of the macarons on a baking tray, a sight she had never expected to see.
She knew Sharon liked to bake, but she never actually seen her do it. It appeared that she was as meticulous at this as she was at work. Despite having to wait for a proper kiss, Brenda had to admit that it was interesting to watch her work. It seemed so domestic, and while Sharon was great mother and great lover, always trying to make people comfortable in her own home, domestic wasn’t a word Brenda would associate with Sharon Raydor.
Finally Sharon put the piping bag down and turned around. Brenda felt the corners of her mouth twitch. Sharon’s apron was a multi-colored contraption, definitely made by children judging from the stitch work with the words ‘best mom in the world’ neatly embroidered across her chest. Brenda was fairly certain that she had never seen Sharon wear something so hideous and endearing at the same time.
“Hi,” Sharon breathed before closing the distance between them and capturing Brenda’s lips in a kiss, keeping pastry-covered hands far away from Brenda’s body as to not irreparably stain her clothes or her hair. Brenda however cupped Sharon’s jaw and held her close, tasting the Chardonnay on Sharon’s lips. Sharon hummed quietly, a sound that Brenda felt travel up her spine, but before she could deepen the kiss, Rusty interrupted them.
“There’s a teenager in the vicinity, just so you two know,” he said, his voice lacking any real malice, but Sharon dutifully took a step back, a slight blush adorning her cheeks. Brenda couldn’t help but grin as Sharon tried to hide her mild embarrassment, she really was such a mom, pushing her glasses further up her nose with the back of her hand, a little move that had no business looking quite as adorable as it did.
Sharon turned away from and washed her hands, getting rid of all the pink goo before she reached for the first tray, lifted and tapped it on top of the counter, iron meeting the counter making a rather loud noise. Brenda flinched and she could see Rusty from the corner of her eye as he turned around, his eyebrows disappearing under the hair that covered his forehead.
“Uhm, Sharon, what the hell are you doing?” the teenager asked when Sharon did it again a few times and then repeated the action with the second tray. Brenda was suddenly glad that she didn’t have long and tiring day at work, because that noise would have given her a splitting headache.
“Knocking the air out them. They’ll become uneven and cracked if I don’t, but don’t worry, I’m done. They have to sit now and form a skin,” Sharon said with a flick of her hair as if making these impossibly difficult French treats was the easiest and most normal thing to do. Brenda rolled her eyes and watched slightly amused as Sharon started putting all the dirty appliances and bowls near the sink. Another reason Brenda didn’t like cooking or baking; the mess it made. Even when Sharon had enough professional stuff to make Brenda’s mother figuratively drool, she still really didn’t want to cook.
“I don’t understand why you go through so much trouble to make these tiny little things when you can just buy them.” Brenda grabbed the bottle of merlot Sharon always had in her condo especially for her and accepted the glass Sharon wordlessly handed her. Brenda sat down on one of the bar stools and poured herself a generous glass of wine, ensuring that she wouldn’t have to refill for quite a while.
“I know this might be an utterly foreign concept to you, but I actually really spending time in the kitchen and baking, especially delicious tiny little things that require a lot of patience,” Sharon said with a raised eyebrow and vicious little smirk as she leaned on the counter across from Brenda, reminding the blonde far too much of the somewhat stuck-up IA Captain with the superior that she had despised for a while before falling into bed and in love with her.
“Ouch, you’ve never managed to so completely fail to hide an insult and I’m counting the time you insinuated I slept my way to the top.” Sharon’s smirk turned into a somewhat nostalgic smile. That was definitely a good memory when she had worn the red dress, almost especially for Sharon, the same dress she had worn for their second official date, but then it had been completely for Sharon and it had gotten her a better reaction than she could have hoped for.
She couldn’t believe that it was more than eighteen months. With Goldman, her messy divorce and her mother dying, her relationship with Sharon seemed new and fresh and yet at the same time it felt as if she had been with her for a lot longer. She always felt at home with her, even when they fought and traded barbs, even she tried to butt in on Sharon’s cases, it felt right which was more than she had ever said about Fritz.
“I just find it endearing and a little bit amusing how utterly unskilled you are in the kitchen despite my best attempts to change that,” Sharon teased before sipping her own wine. Brenda stuck out her tongue.
“Bite me, Sharon,” she retorted, but lacking any venom. Sharon simply leaned closer, that superior smirk of hers back.
“Careful what you wish for. It just might come true,” she said softly, her voice suddenly lower, seductive, a promise of what was to come later when Rusty was asleep in his room. They’d have to be quiet, they always had to be quiet when they were at Sharon’s, but they had long since figured out ways to keep the noise down without it taking away any of the fun. Suddenly she was looking forward to later a lot more.
“Is that a threat?”
“Hmm, more like a promise,” Sharon whispered before she leaned in more over the counter and kissed Brenda, tangling a hand in her hair. Brenda near slid off her stool, but it was worth it when she felt Sharon’s tongue against her lips, seeking entrance. She moaned softly when she parted her lips and their tongues met. She made a sound of disappointment when Sharon pulled back way too soon according to Brenda’s opinion.
“I like the sound of that,” she muttered, grinning when she saw Sharon’s smile which the Captain tried to hide behind her wineglass.
“You know I can hear you, right? And that this is really all stuff I could have lived without. It’s not like my mind is so fragile that it can’t handle the real world, because it can, but keep that stuff behind a locked bedroom door. Or Cynthia will hear of this,” Rusty said, sounding more than a little disgruntled. Sharon merely rolled her eyes and shrugged. She lived with the boy, she loved him, she was used his comments. Besides she was a mother, she had a lot more patience than Brenda ever would have.
“What are you gonna tell her? That your guardian likes to bite her lover?” Brenda quipped as she turned around on her barstool. Brenda could see Sharon’s mouth fall open in shock from the corner of her eye as Rusty made a gagging noise. Brenda grinned. Teenagers were just too easy to wind up. She winced Sharon slapped her lightly on the arm, stopping her from making the situation any worse.
“Brenda Leigh,” Sharon said in a reprimanding tone. Brenda looked at her and feigned an innocent look. She knew she was in trouble when Sharon called her Brenda Leigh. The brunette was looking at her with narrowed eyes, something which didn’t have its regular effect when she was wearing a brightly colored apron made by her children, but it was still intimidating enough.
“Sorry. Kind of.” That was close enough to an apology, wasn’t it? It wasn’t going to get any better. Sharon shook her head, but a small smile was playing on her lips. Brenda grabbed her wineglass and took a large gulp, never taking her eyes off Sharon, waiting for her mask to crack, but Sharon turned away from her, bending over to preheat the oven. Brenda could help but ogle Sharon’s rather shapely behind, a leer which Sharon caught when she turned back around.
“You’re impossible,” Sharon muttered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. It would always amaze Brenda that Sharon could go from impressive to adorable in a matter of seconds. Sharon looked at her from underneath her lashes and Brenda had to resist the urge to kiss her again, knowing that Rusty would probably start throwing things at them.
“How about this, you are both impossible,” Rusty said curtly, but when Brenda looked him she saw he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he pretended to be. He could be a difficult kid, but ignoring the usual protests a child had when seeing their parent being intimate with someone, he had been very accepting of them. He was a very good kid when he wanted to be. Sharon smiled at him, like only a mother could smile at a child, even when they were being a little obnoxious. Rusty was lucky to have her.
“Yes, I suppose we are,” Sharon said, looking at Brenda. And she was lucky to have Sharon as well.
Pairing: Brenda/Sharon
Fandom: Major Crimes
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1,881
Prompt: Bite Me by ladybamfs
Summary: A little domestic scene between Brenda, Sharon and Rusty.
Disclaimer: Not my characters.
A/N: This is just fluffy beyond belief. So be aware of over-sweetness.
“Sharon? Are you home?” Brenda asked, dumping her bag and shoes near the side table at the entrance. Sharon would chastise her later for her messiness and basically demand that she put her stuff away properly, which Brenda would do without complaining, secretly smiling at Sharon’s neatness. Rusty looked away from the television where some unrecognizable action film was playing. “Hey Rusty.”
“Hey. She’s in the kitchen. Baking.” Brenda nearly snorted at the way Rusty pronounced the word baking. He either hated what Sharon was doing or he was afraid Sharon was going nuts. She shrugged out of her cardigan and draped it over the couch, again something Sharon was going to make her clean up later, resisted the urge to ruffle Rusty’s hair, knowing he hated it and walked towards Sharon. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of her, bend over the counter, barefoot, still in her suit, sans blazer, wearing a ridiculous apron.
“Hey you. Watcha doing?” Without jostling Sharon, she brushed aside some of the thick hair and kissed her cheek, watching as Sharon carefully put perfect pink rounds of some sort of goo on a baking tray with a piping bag, another tray already filled, a look of concentration on her face. Brenda frowned at Sharon’s lack of response and took a step back, watching as the Captain continued to work.
“I’m making macarons, which is an extremely delicate process so if you give me a few seconds I can say hello properly.” Brenda raised her eyebrows at Sharon’s bossy tone. She normally only sounded like that when she had done something wrong. Biting her bottom lip, she waited with her arms crossed for Sharon to be done with what turned out to be piping the halves of the macarons on a baking tray, a sight she had never expected to see.
She knew Sharon liked to bake, but she never actually seen her do it. It appeared that she was as meticulous at this as she was at work. Despite having to wait for a proper kiss, Brenda had to admit that it was interesting to watch her work. It seemed so domestic, and while Sharon was great mother and great lover, always trying to make people comfortable in her own home, domestic wasn’t a word Brenda would associate with Sharon Raydor.
Finally Sharon put the piping bag down and turned around. Brenda felt the corners of her mouth twitch. Sharon’s apron was a multi-colored contraption, definitely made by children judging from the stitch work with the words ‘best mom in the world’ neatly embroidered across her chest. Brenda was fairly certain that she had never seen Sharon wear something so hideous and endearing at the same time.
“Hi,” Sharon breathed before closing the distance between them and capturing Brenda’s lips in a kiss, keeping pastry-covered hands far away from Brenda’s body as to not irreparably stain her clothes or her hair. Brenda however cupped Sharon’s jaw and held her close, tasting the Chardonnay on Sharon’s lips. Sharon hummed quietly, a sound that Brenda felt travel up her spine, but before she could deepen the kiss, Rusty interrupted them.
“There’s a teenager in the vicinity, just so you two know,” he said, his voice lacking any real malice, but Sharon dutifully took a step back, a slight blush adorning her cheeks. Brenda couldn’t help but grin as Sharon tried to hide her mild embarrassment, she really was such a mom, pushing her glasses further up her nose with the back of her hand, a little move that had no business looking quite as adorable as it did.
Sharon turned away from and washed her hands, getting rid of all the pink goo before she reached for the first tray, lifted and tapped it on top of the counter, iron meeting the counter making a rather loud noise. Brenda flinched and she could see Rusty from the corner of her eye as he turned around, his eyebrows disappearing under the hair that covered his forehead.
“Uhm, Sharon, what the hell are you doing?” the teenager asked when Sharon did it again a few times and then repeated the action with the second tray. Brenda was suddenly glad that she didn’t have long and tiring day at work, because that noise would have given her a splitting headache.
“Knocking the air out them. They’ll become uneven and cracked if I don’t, but don’t worry, I’m done. They have to sit now and form a skin,” Sharon said with a flick of her hair as if making these impossibly difficult French treats was the easiest and most normal thing to do. Brenda rolled her eyes and watched slightly amused as Sharon started putting all the dirty appliances and bowls near the sink. Another reason Brenda didn’t like cooking or baking; the mess it made. Even when Sharon had enough professional stuff to make Brenda’s mother figuratively drool, she still really didn’t want to cook.
“I don’t understand why you go through so much trouble to make these tiny little things when you can just buy them.” Brenda grabbed the bottle of merlot Sharon always had in her condo especially for her and accepted the glass Sharon wordlessly handed her. Brenda sat down on one of the bar stools and poured herself a generous glass of wine, ensuring that she wouldn’t have to refill for quite a while.
“I know this might be an utterly foreign concept to you, but I actually really spending time in the kitchen and baking, especially delicious tiny little things that require a lot of patience,” Sharon said with a raised eyebrow and vicious little smirk as she leaned on the counter across from Brenda, reminding the blonde far too much of the somewhat stuck-up IA Captain with the superior that she had despised for a while before falling into bed and in love with her.
“Ouch, you’ve never managed to so completely fail to hide an insult and I’m counting the time you insinuated I slept my way to the top.” Sharon’s smirk turned into a somewhat nostalgic smile. That was definitely a good memory when she had worn the red dress, almost especially for Sharon, the same dress she had worn for their second official date, but then it had been completely for Sharon and it had gotten her a better reaction than she could have hoped for.
She couldn’t believe that it was more than eighteen months. With Goldman, her messy divorce and her mother dying, her relationship with Sharon seemed new and fresh and yet at the same time it felt as if she had been with her for a lot longer. She always felt at home with her, even when they fought and traded barbs, even she tried to butt in on Sharon’s cases, it felt right which was more than she had ever said about Fritz.
“I just find it endearing and a little bit amusing how utterly unskilled you are in the kitchen despite my best attempts to change that,” Sharon teased before sipping her own wine. Brenda stuck out her tongue.
“Bite me, Sharon,” she retorted, but lacking any venom. Sharon simply leaned closer, that superior smirk of hers back.
“Careful what you wish for. It just might come true,” she said softly, her voice suddenly lower, seductive, a promise of what was to come later when Rusty was asleep in his room. They’d have to be quiet, they always had to be quiet when they were at Sharon’s, but they had long since figured out ways to keep the noise down without it taking away any of the fun. Suddenly she was looking forward to later a lot more.
“Is that a threat?”
“Hmm, more like a promise,” Sharon whispered before she leaned in more over the counter and kissed Brenda, tangling a hand in her hair. Brenda near slid off her stool, but it was worth it when she felt Sharon’s tongue against her lips, seeking entrance. She moaned softly when she parted her lips and their tongues met. She made a sound of disappointment when Sharon pulled back way too soon according to Brenda’s opinion.
“I like the sound of that,” she muttered, grinning when she saw Sharon’s smile which the Captain tried to hide behind her wineglass.
“You know I can hear you, right? And that this is really all stuff I could have lived without. It’s not like my mind is so fragile that it can’t handle the real world, because it can, but keep that stuff behind a locked bedroom door. Or Cynthia will hear of this,” Rusty said, sounding more than a little disgruntled. Sharon merely rolled her eyes and shrugged. She lived with the boy, she loved him, she was used his comments. Besides she was a mother, she had a lot more patience than Brenda ever would have.
“What are you gonna tell her? That your guardian likes to bite her lover?” Brenda quipped as she turned around on her barstool. Brenda could see Sharon’s mouth fall open in shock from the corner of her eye as Rusty made a gagging noise. Brenda grinned. Teenagers were just too easy to wind up. She winced Sharon slapped her lightly on the arm, stopping her from making the situation any worse.
“Brenda Leigh,” Sharon said in a reprimanding tone. Brenda looked at her and feigned an innocent look. She knew she was in trouble when Sharon called her Brenda Leigh. The brunette was looking at her with narrowed eyes, something which didn’t have its regular effect when she was wearing a brightly colored apron made by her children, but it was still intimidating enough.
“Sorry. Kind of.” That was close enough to an apology, wasn’t it? It wasn’t going to get any better. Sharon shook her head, but a small smile was playing on her lips. Brenda grabbed her wineglass and took a large gulp, never taking her eyes off Sharon, waiting for her mask to crack, but Sharon turned away from her, bending over to preheat the oven. Brenda could help but ogle Sharon’s rather shapely behind, a leer which Sharon caught when she turned back around.
“You’re impossible,” Sharon muttered, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, her cheeks slightly redder than they were before. It would always amaze Brenda that Sharon could go from impressive to adorable in a matter of seconds. Sharon looked at her from underneath her lashes and Brenda had to resist the urge to kiss her again, knowing that Rusty would probably start throwing things at them.
“How about this, you are both impossible,” Rusty said curtly, but when Brenda looked him she saw he wasn’t nearly as annoyed as he pretended to be. He could be a difficult kid, but ignoring the usual protests a child had when seeing their parent being intimate with someone, he had been very accepting of them. He was a very good kid when he wanted to be. Sharon smiled at him, like only a mother could smile at a child, even when they were being a little obnoxious. Rusty was lucky to have her.
“Yes, I suppose we are,” Sharon said, looking at Brenda. And she was lucky to have Sharon as well.