Fic: Inertia - Part 1 [The Closer]
Rating: PG 13
Ship: Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: Not mine; never were! No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Nothing can stay unchanged forever. Brenda starts to cope with life after Fritz.
~
It was 4.15 in the morning as Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson pulled her car into the almost empty parking lot of the LAPD headquarters. She was tired, she was hungry, she was cranky, and she was out of chocolate. The crime scene smelled of it, and whenever she asked, everyone looked at her as if she was insane. She had been so good all day, she hadn't had any. She had looked at it, she had sniffed it, she had licked it - but none of it passed her lips. It gave her something to think about, now that the house was empty - it still took some time to get used to how quiet it was without Fritzy or Joel - it had been months since Fritz had moved out and she was starting to think he was never coming back.
Contrary to popular belief, LA wasn't always warm - it could get downright cold this time of night, it was, for all intents and purposes, a desert - she shivered in her car as she waited for the rest of the team to meet her back here. She could go up, but she was too afraid she'd fall asleep at her desk, at least the cold was keeping her awake. Her office did have her cardigan. She was pretty sure she'd stashed a Snickers bar somewhere in one of her fits. She yawned and stretched her arms, then crossed them over her chest for warmth while she waited for the guys to catch up to her.
~ ~ ~
Sharon Raydor started to suspect she didn't need sleep anymore. She started to avoid her bedroom, choosing to settle down on the couch in her living room with a book and a glass of wine. Lately, she'd dabbled in baking. Last night she made croissants. From scratch. She had even pounded her butter to release the excess moisture. When Sharon Raydor did something, she was determined to do it right. If she was desperate, she would turn on the television. She would nod off around 1 and would be up by 4. She could get a run in, be showered, dressed and at Starbucks by 6.15, she would make it into the office for 6.30.
She knew all the cars in the lot and who they belonged to. They belonged to those who, like her, who were hoping work would relieve whatever kept them from sleep. As cops, there were a lot things it could be: the crimes they witnessed, the victims they couldn't help, the criminals who went free, the unstable hours, the daily threat on their lives, the toll on their families, the toll on themselves. That's why she was surprised to find one car in specific parked in what she thought of as her spot. Not as surprised as she was to find the car's owner still in the car.
She got out of her car and stood at the driver's side window, looking down at the sleeping face of Deputy Chief Brenda Johnson. Usually, when people were asleep, they were peaceful, but not this woman, her brow knit in frustration. Sharon thought to let her keep sleeping, but knew how fast the gossip mill at Headquarters ran. She wanted to save her friend the hassle. She supposed they were friends, at least as friendly as two women like them could be. Which wasn't very friendly, despite what Brenda had introduced her to her parents as. It was hard for Sharon Raydor to have friends that she worked with - she liked to keep her friends and her work separate, her work dictated it. It was harder still when she was attracted to her friend. It wasn't a shock to her, her attraction to both men and women she had dealt with that decades ago - what was a shock to her was that this time, the attraction was towards Brenda Leigh Johnson. She generally preferred her partners to be well-dressed, well-read, and well-rounded; Chief Johnson on the other hand still dressed like this was Georgia, did nothing but work, and as for well-read, Sharon was fairly certain that the last thing she had read was the ingredients list of a bag of Reese's Pieces.
She tapped on the glass softly, glancing around to make sure no one saw her.
To be fair, the Chief was also incredibly talented at her job, sharper than she dressed, and yes - attractive, if you went in for the blond hair/pouty lipped look.
Sharon rapped on the glass, harder this time. The Chief stirred, but was still sleeping. "Oh, come on!" She grumbled, as she placed the box of croissants she was juggling and her venti cup of scalding coffee on the hood of her car and knocked loudly on the glass, still making sure no one saw her.
Eventually, the Chief's eyes popped open, startled and she sat up. She quickly wiped her eyes and rolled down the window. "Captain Raydor - I'm so sorry, I guess I fell..." Sharon noticed her accent was even thicker with sleep. That was a small detail that she wished she didn't know - it would just be one more thing to think about in between fitful bouts of insomnia. "Not at all Chief, I just wanted to make sure everything -" She stepped back and opened the door for Brenda.
"I was just -" The blond scrambled for an excuse but was too foggy to come up with one.
"It's alright. I don't think anyone saw." Sharon said, uncomfortable in her close proximity to Brenda, between the cars. She turned around and retrieved her coffee and croissants, she turned around and found Brenda peering at her with a look Sharon wasn't entirely sure she liked.
They walked in silence, shoulder to shoulder across the parking lot towards work, the sun reflecting brightly off the hoods of the cars. Without asking, Sharon offered up her cup of coffee towards the other woman, "Bless you!" The blond mumbled, taking a sip, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange of the precious cup of coffee.
"Look like you could use it." Sharon responded.
"What I could use is whatever you have in that box." Brenda teased, taking another sip as she held the door open for the brunette beside her. They made their way to the elevator banks and with a familiar eye roll, Sharon Raydor lifted the lid and offered them up to the blond.
"Oh my - they're still...warm." She gushed, as she delicately picked one out and bit into it, stepping into the empty elevator. "Where'd you get these?" She asked, devouring the flaky creation and following it up with another sip of coffee.
"Oh, little bakery near me." Sharon kept her eyes forward, not knowing why she lied. It wouldn't have been hard to say she made them, after all it had taken nearly two days of prep and waiting. It had more to do with telling the other woman anything about herself, she guessed. The less they knew about each other, the easier it would be to go around sniping at each other. They continued their ride up in comfortable silence, until the chime went off and the doors slid open to Sharon Raydor's floor. "I suppose you want your cup back?" Brenda asked as she recognized the floor. "Keep it, Chief." The other woman said briskly as she walked out and down the hall, doing everything she could to keep from thinking of the flakey crumbs which were stuck to the other woman's lips.
Ship: Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: Not mine; never were! No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Nothing can stay unchanged forever. Brenda starts to cope with life after Fritz.
~
It was 4.15 in the morning as Deputy Chief Brenda Leigh Johnson pulled her car into the almost empty parking lot of the LAPD headquarters. She was tired, she was hungry, she was cranky, and she was out of chocolate. The crime scene smelled of it, and whenever she asked, everyone looked at her as if she was insane. She had been so good all day, she hadn't had any. She had looked at it, she had sniffed it, she had licked it - but none of it passed her lips. It gave her something to think about, now that the house was empty - it still took some time to get used to how quiet it was without Fritzy or Joel - it had been months since Fritz had moved out and she was starting to think he was never coming back.
Contrary to popular belief, LA wasn't always warm - it could get downright cold this time of night, it was, for all intents and purposes, a desert - she shivered in her car as she waited for the rest of the team to meet her back here. She could go up, but she was too afraid she'd fall asleep at her desk, at least the cold was keeping her awake. Her office did have her cardigan. She was pretty sure she'd stashed a Snickers bar somewhere in one of her fits. She yawned and stretched her arms, then crossed them over her chest for warmth while she waited for the guys to catch up to her.
~ ~ ~
Sharon Raydor started to suspect she didn't need sleep anymore. She started to avoid her bedroom, choosing to settle down on the couch in her living room with a book and a glass of wine. Lately, she'd dabbled in baking. Last night she made croissants. From scratch. She had even pounded her butter to release the excess moisture. When Sharon Raydor did something, she was determined to do it right. If she was desperate, she would turn on the television. She would nod off around 1 and would be up by 4. She could get a run in, be showered, dressed and at Starbucks by 6.15, she would make it into the office for 6.30.
She knew all the cars in the lot and who they belonged to. They belonged to those who, like her, who were hoping work would relieve whatever kept them from sleep. As cops, there were a lot things it could be: the crimes they witnessed, the victims they couldn't help, the criminals who went free, the unstable hours, the daily threat on their lives, the toll on their families, the toll on themselves. That's why she was surprised to find one car in specific parked in what she thought of as her spot. Not as surprised as she was to find the car's owner still in the car.
She got out of her car and stood at the driver's side window, looking down at the sleeping face of Deputy Chief Brenda Johnson. Usually, when people were asleep, they were peaceful, but not this woman, her brow knit in frustration. Sharon thought to let her keep sleeping, but knew how fast the gossip mill at Headquarters ran. She wanted to save her friend the hassle. She supposed they were friends, at least as friendly as two women like them could be. Which wasn't very friendly, despite what Brenda had introduced her to her parents as. It was hard for Sharon Raydor to have friends that she worked with - she liked to keep her friends and her work separate, her work dictated it. It was harder still when she was attracted to her friend. It wasn't a shock to her, her attraction to both men and women she had dealt with that decades ago - what was a shock to her was that this time, the attraction was towards Brenda Leigh Johnson. She generally preferred her partners to be well-dressed, well-read, and well-rounded; Chief Johnson on the other hand still dressed like this was Georgia, did nothing but work, and as for well-read, Sharon was fairly certain that the last thing she had read was the ingredients list of a bag of Reese's Pieces.
She tapped on the glass softly, glancing around to make sure no one saw her.
To be fair, the Chief was also incredibly talented at her job, sharper than she dressed, and yes - attractive, if you went in for the blond hair/pouty lipped look.
Sharon rapped on the glass, harder this time. The Chief stirred, but was still sleeping. "Oh, come on!" She grumbled, as she placed the box of croissants she was juggling and her venti cup of scalding coffee on the hood of her car and knocked loudly on the glass, still making sure no one saw her.
Eventually, the Chief's eyes popped open, startled and she sat up. She quickly wiped her eyes and rolled down the window. "Captain Raydor - I'm so sorry, I guess I fell..." Sharon noticed her accent was even thicker with sleep. That was a small detail that she wished she didn't know - it would just be one more thing to think about in between fitful bouts of insomnia. "Not at all Chief, I just wanted to make sure everything -" She stepped back and opened the door for Brenda.
"I was just -" The blond scrambled for an excuse but was too foggy to come up with one.
"It's alright. I don't think anyone saw." Sharon said, uncomfortable in her close proximity to Brenda, between the cars. She turned around and retrieved her coffee and croissants, she turned around and found Brenda peering at her with a look Sharon wasn't entirely sure she liked.
They walked in silence, shoulder to shoulder across the parking lot towards work, the sun reflecting brightly off the hoods of the cars. Without asking, Sharon offered up her cup of coffee towards the other woman, "Bless you!" The blond mumbled, taking a sip, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange of the precious cup of coffee.
"Look like you could use it." Sharon responded.
"What I could use is whatever you have in that box." Brenda teased, taking another sip as she held the door open for the brunette beside her. They made their way to the elevator banks and with a familiar eye roll, Sharon Raydor lifted the lid and offered them up to the blond.
"Oh my - they're still...warm." She gushed, as she delicately picked one out and bit into it, stepping into the empty elevator. "Where'd you get these?" She asked, devouring the flaky creation and following it up with another sip of coffee.
"Oh, little bakery near me." Sharon kept her eyes forward, not knowing why she lied. It wouldn't have been hard to say she made them, after all it had taken nearly two days of prep and waiting. It had more to do with telling the other woman anything about herself, she guessed. The less they knew about each other, the easier it would be to go around sniping at each other. They continued their ride up in comfortable silence, until the chime went off and the doors slid open to Sharon Raydor's floor. "I suppose you want your cup back?" Brenda asked as she recognized the floor. "Keep it, Chief." The other woman said briskly as she walked out and down the hall, doing everything she could to keep from thinking of the flakey crumbs which were stuck to the other woman's lips.