Third Strike - Brenda/Sharon - The Closer 1/?
author Coco
rating R
disclaimer I do not own anything even remotely related to The Closer, Kyra Sedgwick or Mary McDonnell - if I owned all of those then there would have been so many make-out scenes already! - and I mean no copyright infringement. This is just for fun!
spoilers may contain spoilers up through Sharon Raydor’s episodes.
Summary On the same week that Brenda has to sign her divorce papers, Sharon's son is arrested which brings up a host of ongoing problems in Sharon's personal and professional life.
“Officer.” Sharon greeted tersely.
“Captain Raydor.” The young uniform nodded respectfully as he lifted the yellow tape and she ducked under it.
Flynn and Provenza looked up from the body they were standing over to see Sharon beelining purposefully toward Chief Johnson and the teenaged boy she was talking to. “Hey Captain,” Flynn called out, “this isn’t your beat.”
His protests fell on deaf ears as she marched up to the blonde and the boy. Standing next to the boy she looked the shorter woman in the eye and growled, “this interview stops now. He’s a minor.”
“Well, Captain,” Brenda narrowed her eyes at Sharon’s audacity. “We’ll just wait and see what his mother has to say.”
The boy raised his eyebrows at Brenda.
Sharon narrowed her eyes and then smirked. “I am his mother.”
Brenda’s mouth opened as though she wanted to object. She looked from Sharon to the boy and back Sharon before stammering dumbly, “he’s black.”
“Wow, mom, and this woman’s higher up the ladder than you?” He snickered. “Who’d she fuck to get her job?”
Will Pope… Sharon thought with annoyance before scolding. “you watch your language, Reese, she’s an officer of the law, you have to respect her.”
“You don’t.”
“I’m older than you.” Sharon deadpanned and took him by the arm, “I’m taking you home right now.”
“Um, no, you don’t.” Brenda protested. “He’s part of my investigation.”
“I’ll bring him to you first thing in the morning.” Sharon spat. Sharon and Reese walked up to Sanchez. “Detective, I hope you’re not interrogating these boys without the knowledge of their parents.”
“IDs say they’re 22, Captain.”
“You’re going soft, these boys are juniors in high school. This is Alexander Watts, his address is 126 Ferina street, this is Steven Phelps and his address is 93 Barnwell street. Their parents are Andrea and Leo Watts and Sarah and Dan Phelps.”
Sanchez blinked at her. “Could you repeat that?”
“I’ll email it to you.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “Alex, Steve, let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
“Yes, Ms. Raydor.” They answered dutifully. She released Reese’s arm and the three boys marched to Sharon’s car looking for all the world like shackled inmates dragging their feet, faces colored by guilty resignation.
Brenda stood dumbfounded as all three boys got into the car. Sharon fumed as she got in, started the car and pulled away. Flynn stood next to Brenda.
“She’s got a pair, huh?”
“She just took all my suspects…”
“Yeah, Chief, but she promised to bring ‘em back.” Flynn scoffed.
“Ooh! That woman!” Brenda huffed.
“Careful, Chief, that’s becoming your catchphrase.” Flynn snickered but zipped up when he found himself on the receiving end of Brenda’s death glare.
**
Sharon pulled up in front of Alex’s house and the motion light came on and Andrea Watts stepped out and squinted to see who was there.
Sharon got out and walked up to explain what had happened.
Reese turned around and looked at his two friends, “alright, asshats, who’s the douchebag who called the Wicked Witch?”
“Dude, she’s a fucking cop. Of course I called your mother. We’re in deep shit, dude got shot and we were there.” Steve snapped, “you’d be a fucking moron not to use a little nepotism on this one.”
“Just shut the fuck up, okay? I would’ve had us outta there, they didn’t even know who we were. And then, like a little bitch, you called my fucking mother.”
“You did not have us out of there.” Steve growled. “They thought we were adults, they were going to haul us off. I’m fucking glad Steve called your mom, I with I’d thought to call your mom.”
“You guys are pussies. I can’t even fucking believe I hang out with you losers.” Reese grumbled, turning and sinking down in his seat.
Sharon came back to the car. “Alex, your mother’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks for the ride, Ms. Raydor.” Alex said as he gripped the door handle.
“You and one or both of your parents are going to have to go down to the police station tomorrow and make your statement. I’ve told your mother about what happened.”
“Yes, Ms. Raydor.”
Once Steve was dropped off and the only two left in the car were mother and son, Sharon headed back toward her apartment. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her ex-husband’s number.
“Sharon, it’s very late.” Vince grumbled, “you’d better have a damn good reason for calling.”
“I have Reese-”
“No, you don’t. He’s down the hall, asleep, it’s three in the morning, Sharon.”
“Don’t talk to my like I’m an idiot. Our son, Reese, is right here in the car with me and I’m well aware of what time it is. I was awoken about an hour ago to hear that our son is a suspect in a murder.”
“What?” That had gotten Vince’s attention, he was certainly awake now.
“I’m sure this’ll all get cleared up but I’m going to keep him with me tonight, he has to go in and make a statement tomorrow. Are you saying you didn’t know he wasn’t in the house?”
Vince sighed and rubbed his eyes, “do you want me to come over.”
“No, I don’t want you to come over. I’m going to bed.” Sharon snapped, then sighed. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I know more. Get some sleep.”
“Talk to you tomorrow, Sharon.”
Sharon ended the call and looked over at Reese. “Well?”
“Well what?” He scoffed.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
“I’m not fooling around. A man is dead and you were there. Start talking.”
“Steve and Alex and me were just hanging out with Matt Costa.” He shrugged.
“Were you drinking?”
Reese hesitated.
“Let me rephrase: you were drinking, you reek of it. Who was the man who was shot?”
Reese shrugged, “never saw him before in my life.”
“Did Matt shoot him?”
“No!” Reese spat, offended. “What? He’s from the wrong side of town so he shot the dude?”
“No, because there was no gun on scene and he’s the only other person you said was there.”
“Maybe there was another dude.”
“Was there another person there?”
“Why are you interrogating me like a cop?” Reese demanded, exasperated at his mother’s steadfast internal affairs persona.
“Because if I was talking to you like your mother right now we’d both be looking at eardrum damage.” Sharon scowled.
“Screaming’s your answer for everything. No wonder dad left you.”
Sharon gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep her cool. “Tomorrow you’d better be more forthcoming with Chief Johnson.”
The rest of the car ride was uncomfortably silent. Sharon let them into her apartment, it was on the first floor and it had it’s own entrance. It had two bedrooms, though Reese rarely stayed over, and was quite spacious. Out the back was a shared space with the other apartments that had a well-manicured lawn, lush flowers and a pool.
Sharon rarely had time to enjoy her apartment and Reese was thoroughly unimpressed. “Go right to bed, we’re going in first thing in the morning.”
“Whatever.” Reese went straight to his room and slammed the door which started the next door neighbor’s dog barking.
Sharon followed after him and pulled open his door, scolding in a harsh whisper, “it is four in the morning, you have to learn to be more respectful of other people.”
“Do you mind? I have to sleep, I’m getting up first thing.” He grumbled, flopping down on the bed.
Sharon gritted her teeth but her mind conjured up images of his three year old self laying on his stomach in his first big boy bed shaped like a rocket ship. It had always been harder with Reese than with her other three children and, it seemed, that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
She lingered in the doorway for a moment. His breathing evened out and she remembered he’d been up nearly twenty-four hours and he’d been asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. No matter how angry she was - and she was furious - she couldn’t help the affection that swelled up inside her as she watched her boy sleeping.
Quietly she closed the door and crossed the hallway to her own bedroom. She climbed into the still rurmpled bed and reset her alarm for 6:30 to give her an extra half-hour of sleep.
**
Sanchez’s phone beeped and he pulled up the e-mail from Sharon. “Okay, the boys are Steven Phelps, Alexander Watts and Reese Delahunt. Reese is Raydor’s. They’re all seventeen. She says there was another boy there, Matt Costa, but he’s older, 19 or 20.”
Provenza wrote the names and ages as Sanchez dictated.
“Let’s not take Captain Raydor’s word for it, let’s do some real police work, shall we?” Brenda pursed her lips. She didn’t want to have to deal with Sharon Raydor on a good day and today, when everything else was going to hell in a hand basket, she had to suffer through that woman.
Tao typed away on his computer while Brenda stared at the board, her eyes focused on the picture of Reese Delahunt. The boys’ pictures were school pictures; Reese’s smiling face shined out and Brenda found herself looking for Raydor in the boy’s eyes. She didn’t see Raydor in him now the way she’d seen it when they’d stood side-by-side scowling at her.
Gabriel hung up the call he’d been on. “The casing that CSU found on scene matches a gun used in a string of shootings in the last couple of months. Unregistered.”
“Of course.” Brenda sighed.
“Matthew Henry Costa, otherwise known as Mercutio, runs with the East 88s, juvenile priors for shoplifting and possession, nothing violent.”
“Part of the initiation for the 88s is carrying out a hit.” Sanchez said.
“I’d say Costa looks good for this.” Tao interjected, “the boys are all squeaky clean.” He motioned to the pictures on the white board.
“Yeah, but are they squeaky clean because they’re good boys or because they have Sharon Raydor on speeddial?”
“You think Raydor would pull strings?”
“I don’t know.” Brenda snapped, “didn’t I just as y’all to find out? All I know is we had those boys on scene, dead to rights and she walked off with them and where are they now?”
“Thanks, Buzz.” Provenza said quietly into the phone. “Um, the waiting room, Chief, all three of them with their parents, Raydor among them.”
Brenda huffed. “I want to talk to Raydor’s last. Let her fume.”
“Hell of a thing, huh, Chief?” Flynn shook his head, “of all weeks to have to deal with Raydor.”
“That’s the last time anyone brings up my divorce. I hear anyone bring it up and they go home for the day. No questions.” She turned to Gabriel, “Sergeant, will you collect Alex Watts and out him in interview room one, and, Detective, please put Steven Phelps in room two.”
“Yes, Chief.”
She turned to Flynn, “Lieutenant, would you go babysit Reese Delahunt and ask Captain Raydor to come see me in my office?”
Flynn nodded and he, Sanchez and Gabriel walked off dutifully to do Brenda’s bidding.
Brenda walked into her office and opened her candy drawer. Rooting around in the sea of candy she finally extracted a Reese’s cup. She unwrapped it and shoved it into her mouth whole. Flynn was right, it was a hell of a thing to happen this week of all weeks.
rating R
disclaimer I do not own anything even remotely related to The Closer, Kyra Sedgwick or Mary McDonnell - if I owned all of those then there would have been so many make-out scenes already! - and I mean no copyright infringement. This is just for fun!
spoilers may contain spoilers up through Sharon Raydor’s episodes.
Summary On the same week that Brenda has to sign her divorce papers, Sharon's son is arrested which brings up a host of ongoing problems in Sharon's personal and professional life.
“Officer.” Sharon greeted tersely.
“Captain Raydor.” The young uniform nodded respectfully as he lifted the yellow tape and she ducked under it.
Flynn and Provenza looked up from the body they were standing over to see Sharon beelining purposefully toward Chief Johnson and the teenaged boy she was talking to. “Hey Captain,” Flynn called out, “this isn’t your beat.”
His protests fell on deaf ears as she marched up to the blonde and the boy. Standing next to the boy she looked the shorter woman in the eye and growled, “this interview stops now. He’s a minor.”
“Well, Captain,” Brenda narrowed her eyes at Sharon’s audacity. “We’ll just wait and see what his mother has to say.”
The boy raised his eyebrows at Brenda.
Sharon narrowed her eyes and then smirked. “I am his mother.”
Brenda’s mouth opened as though she wanted to object. She looked from Sharon to the boy and back Sharon before stammering dumbly, “he’s black.”
“Wow, mom, and this woman’s higher up the ladder than you?” He snickered. “Who’d she fuck to get her job?”
Will Pope… Sharon thought with annoyance before scolding. “you watch your language, Reese, she’s an officer of the law, you have to respect her.”
“You don’t.”
“I’m older than you.” Sharon deadpanned and took him by the arm, “I’m taking you home right now.”
“Um, no, you don’t.” Brenda protested. “He’s part of my investigation.”
“I’ll bring him to you first thing in the morning.” Sharon spat. Sharon and Reese walked up to Sanchez. “Detective, I hope you’re not interrogating these boys without the knowledge of their parents.”
“IDs say they’re 22, Captain.”
“You’re going soft, these boys are juniors in high school. This is Alexander Watts, his address is 126 Ferina street, this is Steven Phelps and his address is 93 Barnwell street. Their parents are Andrea and Leo Watts and Sarah and Dan Phelps.”
Sanchez blinked at her. “Could you repeat that?”
“I’ll email it to you.” Sharon rolled her eyes. “Alex, Steve, let’s go. I’ll take you home.”
“Yes, Ms. Raydor.” They answered dutifully. She released Reese’s arm and the three boys marched to Sharon’s car looking for all the world like shackled inmates dragging their feet, faces colored by guilty resignation.
Brenda stood dumbfounded as all three boys got into the car. Sharon fumed as she got in, started the car and pulled away. Flynn stood next to Brenda.
“She’s got a pair, huh?”
“She just took all my suspects…”
“Yeah, Chief, but she promised to bring ‘em back.” Flynn scoffed.
“Ooh! That woman!” Brenda huffed.
“Careful, Chief, that’s becoming your catchphrase.” Flynn snickered but zipped up when he found himself on the receiving end of Brenda’s death glare.
**
Sharon pulled up in front of Alex’s house and the motion light came on and Andrea Watts stepped out and squinted to see who was there.
Sharon got out and walked up to explain what had happened.
Reese turned around and looked at his two friends, “alright, asshats, who’s the douchebag who called the Wicked Witch?”
“Dude, she’s a fucking cop. Of course I called your mother. We’re in deep shit, dude got shot and we were there.” Steve snapped, “you’d be a fucking moron not to use a little nepotism on this one.”
“Just shut the fuck up, okay? I would’ve had us outta there, they didn’t even know who we were. And then, like a little bitch, you called my fucking mother.”
“You did not have us out of there.” Steve growled. “They thought we were adults, they were going to haul us off. I’m fucking glad Steve called your mom, I with I’d thought to call your mom.”
“You guys are pussies. I can’t even fucking believe I hang out with you losers.” Reese grumbled, turning and sinking down in his seat.
Sharon came back to the car. “Alex, your mother’s waiting for you.”
“Thanks for the ride, Ms. Raydor.” Alex said as he gripped the door handle.
“You and one or both of your parents are going to have to go down to the police station tomorrow and make your statement. I’ve told your mother about what happened.”
“Yes, Ms. Raydor.”
Once Steve was dropped off and the only two left in the car were mother and son, Sharon headed back toward her apartment. She pulled out her cell phone and dialed her ex-husband’s number.
“Sharon, it’s very late.” Vince grumbled, “you’d better have a damn good reason for calling.”
“I have Reese-”
“No, you don’t. He’s down the hall, asleep, it’s three in the morning, Sharon.”
“Don’t talk to my like I’m an idiot. Our son, Reese, is right here in the car with me and I’m well aware of what time it is. I was awoken about an hour ago to hear that our son is a suspect in a murder.”
“What?” That had gotten Vince’s attention, he was certainly awake now.
“I’m sure this’ll all get cleared up but I’m going to keep him with me tonight, he has to go in and make a statement tomorrow. Are you saying you didn’t know he wasn’t in the house?”
Vince sighed and rubbed his eyes, “do you want me to come over.”
“No, I don’t want you to come over. I’m going to bed.” Sharon snapped, then sighed. “I’ll call you tomorrow when I know more. Get some sleep.”
“Talk to you tomorrow, Sharon.”
Sharon ended the call and looked over at Reese. “Well?”
“Well what?” He scoffed.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
“No.”
“I’m not fooling around. A man is dead and you were there. Start talking.”
“Steve and Alex and me were just hanging out with Matt Costa.” He shrugged.
“Were you drinking?”
Reese hesitated.
“Let me rephrase: you were drinking, you reek of it. Who was the man who was shot?”
Reese shrugged, “never saw him before in my life.”
“Did Matt shoot him?”
“No!” Reese spat, offended. “What? He’s from the wrong side of town so he shot the dude?”
“No, because there was no gun on scene and he’s the only other person you said was there.”
“Maybe there was another dude.”
“Was there another person there?”
“Why are you interrogating me like a cop?” Reese demanded, exasperated at his mother’s steadfast internal affairs persona.
“Because if I was talking to you like your mother right now we’d both be looking at eardrum damage.” Sharon scowled.
“Screaming’s your answer for everything. No wonder dad left you.”
Sharon gripped the steering wheel, trying to keep her cool. “Tomorrow you’d better be more forthcoming with Chief Johnson.”
The rest of the car ride was uncomfortably silent. Sharon let them into her apartment, it was on the first floor and it had it’s own entrance. It had two bedrooms, though Reese rarely stayed over, and was quite spacious. Out the back was a shared space with the other apartments that had a well-manicured lawn, lush flowers and a pool.
Sharon rarely had time to enjoy her apartment and Reese was thoroughly unimpressed. “Go right to bed, we’re going in first thing in the morning.”
“Whatever.” Reese went straight to his room and slammed the door which started the next door neighbor’s dog barking.
Sharon followed after him and pulled open his door, scolding in a harsh whisper, “it is four in the morning, you have to learn to be more respectful of other people.”
“Do you mind? I have to sleep, I’m getting up first thing.” He grumbled, flopping down on the bed.
Sharon gritted her teeth but her mind conjured up images of his three year old self laying on his stomach in his first big boy bed shaped like a rocket ship. It had always been harder with Reese than with her other three children and, it seemed, that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.
She lingered in the doorway for a moment. His breathing evened out and she remembered he’d been up nearly twenty-four hours and he’d been asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. No matter how angry she was - and she was furious - she couldn’t help the affection that swelled up inside her as she watched her boy sleeping.
Quietly she closed the door and crossed the hallway to her own bedroom. She climbed into the still rurmpled bed and reset her alarm for 6:30 to give her an extra half-hour of sleep.
**
Sanchez’s phone beeped and he pulled up the e-mail from Sharon. “Okay, the boys are Steven Phelps, Alexander Watts and Reese Delahunt. Reese is Raydor’s. They’re all seventeen. She says there was another boy there, Matt Costa, but he’s older, 19 or 20.”
Provenza wrote the names and ages as Sanchez dictated.
“Let’s not take Captain Raydor’s word for it, let’s do some real police work, shall we?” Brenda pursed her lips. She didn’t want to have to deal with Sharon Raydor on a good day and today, when everything else was going to hell in a hand basket, she had to suffer through that woman.
Tao typed away on his computer while Brenda stared at the board, her eyes focused on the picture of Reese Delahunt. The boys’ pictures were school pictures; Reese’s smiling face shined out and Brenda found herself looking for Raydor in the boy’s eyes. She didn’t see Raydor in him now the way she’d seen it when they’d stood side-by-side scowling at her.
Gabriel hung up the call he’d been on. “The casing that CSU found on scene matches a gun used in a string of shootings in the last couple of months. Unregistered.”
“Of course.” Brenda sighed.
“Matthew Henry Costa, otherwise known as Mercutio, runs with the East 88s, juvenile priors for shoplifting and possession, nothing violent.”
“Part of the initiation for the 88s is carrying out a hit.” Sanchez said.
“I’d say Costa looks good for this.” Tao interjected, “the boys are all squeaky clean.” He motioned to the pictures on the white board.
“Yeah, but are they squeaky clean because they’re good boys or because they have Sharon Raydor on speeddial?”
“You think Raydor would pull strings?”
“I don’t know.” Brenda snapped, “didn’t I just as y’all to find out? All I know is we had those boys on scene, dead to rights and she walked off with them and where are they now?”
“Thanks, Buzz.” Provenza said quietly into the phone. “Um, the waiting room, Chief, all three of them with their parents, Raydor among them.”
Brenda huffed. “I want to talk to Raydor’s last. Let her fume.”
“Hell of a thing, huh, Chief?” Flynn shook his head, “of all weeks to have to deal with Raydor.”
“That’s the last time anyone brings up my divorce. I hear anyone bring it up and they go home for the day. No questions.” She turned to Gabriel, “Sergeant, will you collect Alex Watts and out him in interview room one, and, Detective, please put Steven Phelps in room two.”
“Yes, Chief.”
She turned to Flynn, “Lieutenant, would you go babysit Reese Delahunt and ask Captain Raydor to come see me in my office?”
Flynn nodded and he, Sanchez and Gabriel walked off dutifully to do Brenda’s bidding.
Brenda walked into her office and opened her candy drawer. Rooting around in the sea of candy she finally extracted a Reese’s cup. She unwrapped it and shoved it into her mouth whole. Flynn was right, it was a hell of a thing to happen this week of all weeks.