Fic: Inertia - Part 21 [The Closer]
Title: Inertia - Part 21 of 21 [The Closer]
Rating: R to M (for mild descriptions of ladysex)
Ship: Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: Not mine; never were! No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: With Fritz gone, and her relationship with Sharon growing more serious, Brenda begins to wonder about just how close she's willing to get to the other woman. Sharon, it seems, has already made that choice for them.
Previous Chapters ( One) ( Two) ( Three) ( Four) ( Five) ( Six) ( Seven) ( Eight) ( 9[a]) ( 9[b]) ( Ten) ( Eleven) ( Twelve) ( Thirteen) ( Fourteen) ( Fifteen) (Sixteen) ( Seventeen) ( Eighteen) ( Nineteen) ( Twenty)
A/N: I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who's read and everyone who's commented! I never, ever expected this to spiral off into this whole crazy 21 chapter opus and I could not have done it without all of your super kind words! So just know how much it's meant to me!
Inertia con't - In common usage the term "inertia" may refer to an object's amount of resistance to change in velocity.
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Normal was something Brenda Leigh Johnson never quite understood. She understood easy, and liked it, but she had questioned normalcy and it's place and purpose for so long that by the time it crept into her life, one act and one word at a time it was too late to stop it. Besides, what was normalcy? Tonight would be considered normal to most people - but was a novelty to her. She had made dinner (well, unpacked it and put it on plates - which was almost the same as making it) and curled up on the couch beside Sharon and watched their new pet. Fritz had meant it when he offered Brenda her pick of the litter and she knew from the moment she saw Tommy that that was the kitty for them. Tommy was a strawberry blond little thing - bossy and pushy - and she had a strut like a tom cat. Fritz laughed when she pointed him out - he knew her too well. Tommy was Sharon's concession to her - her way of making her feel welcomed, of making this her home too. She still had her apartment - more out of laziness than anything else. She'd be surprised if anything was left there, all of her important things having found a home amongst Sharon's things here.
She was leaving tomorrow for Atlanta - she had promised her mother she would tell her father, and she would. Sharon meanwhile would be heading back to work, her first day of desk duty. She had asked if Brenda wanted her to go home with her but Brenda declined. Brenda could already see what would happen - she would tell her father and he would get up and leave. They wouldn't say anything more about it until Brenda left and in a few weeks she'd get a letter detailing how he felt. She wasn't scared - not yet anyways - the letter was some ways away. She wouldn't get scared until the envelope came, addressed to her in his precise print. She wished she could be there for Sharon's first day but was certain her presence would be felt - Major Crimes had left a 'Welcome Back' gift for her in the form of a broom stick on her desk. Just thinking about it made her laugh - she knew Sharon wouldn't want anything to change in the way people treated her, so that was what she made sure Major Crimes did.
But that was tomorrow and tomorrow was so far away.
Sharon rose up from the couch and held out her hand to Brenda, "Come…"
"Bed? But it's so early and look - Tommy's showing us how she plays with the squeaky mouse - aren't you, Tommy?" Brenda can't help it - the kitten makes her happy - she's never understood people's need for children when there were pets to be had, a fact she pointed out to Laura at least once a day.
"Suit yourself," Sharon shrugged as she dropped Brenda's hand and walked past towards the stairs. "If you'd rather play with a squeaky mouse than me, so be it." Sharon climbed the stairs without looking back. She knew Brenda wouldn't be far behind…She could already hear the other woman's footsteps following her up. She pretended not to notice her until she opened the door to their bedroom - it was theirs now - and started to get changed. "Oh, you came up?"
"Well, with an offer like that…" Brenda replied, closing the door behind them, leaving them alone in the mostly dark room.
"Like what?" Sharon innocently as she placed a firm grasp on Brenda's waist and pulled her close as she delivered a hard kiss to the other woman's lips. Everything so far had been gentle - her condition dictated it - but she was tired of gentle. She wanted to feel - not brushes and caresses but forceful pushes and pulls - she wanted contact. She wanted every inch of her body to touch every inch of Brenda's. She wanted the other woman to still feel her when she left for the airport, she wanted Brenda's lips to be bruised with kisses and her neck to be dotted and marked - she wanted others to stay away, to know that Brenda was hers. Because she was - she was all hers.
Sharon was amazed every day she woke up to discover that Brenda was still there - there was so much that surprised her about the other woman. She had learned that she was compassionate and kind…mostly. She had learned that she was inventive and adventurous when it came to learning how to be intimate again. She had learned not to let her anywhere near her stove, or her oven. She had learned that Brenda made faces behind her back. She learned that she still had to catch her breath after an unexpected kiss. She had learned that as far as her love for the blond went, she still hadn't found her limits. This terrified her - it terrified both of them. The hospital bed declaration of love had changed their relationship, but it hadn't changed them. Both women remained stubborn and cautious and still carried the scars of all their previous relationships - they were still Brenda Leigh and Sharon Marie - they just happened to be in love.
Brenda could tell from the ferociousness of the kiss what the other woman wanted - she wanted the same thing - with the recovery came so much uncertainty but they were always able to connect in this way in the dark, without words to misconstrue. Maybe more so after the shooting than before. Making love became a way for them to say the words that they were still too scared of saying too often, it became a way of proving it. Proving it was what Brenda tried to do every time she saw the scar. It was still red and angry, two inches of puckered flesh above the curve of Sharon's breast. She had tried from the start to mention it, touch it, do whatever she could to show she wasn't afraid of it when the truth was, it terrified her. It wasn't just what it meant, that any moment they could be gone - it was something they both knew; she just didn't want Sharon to think about it anymore than she had to. It was always on the back of the brunette's mind, it had to be, every activity was tinged with discomfort as her body adjusted to itself again. Every outfit had to be considered for ease of putting on and taking off. Favorite shirts remained in the closet for fear of exposing too much. New bras had to be purchased to avoid aggravating the tender flesh (Brenda didn't mind the last one so much - she hadn't gotten lucky in a fitting room before that day).
Shirts were unbuttoned and removed swiftly - Brenda found herself seated on the edge of the bed, with Sharon straddling her lap, hands wrapped up in her blond locks, tugging her face up to meet the passionate kisses. She couldn't think, she couldn't move - all she could do was sit there and try to breathe. She reached her hand around Sharon's back and unhooked the bra and watched as the thin material fell between them. Brenda wasn't a breast woman - she had never understood people's fixation on them. Some were big, some were small, most were boring - after she started seeing Sharon, she would look at other women with a discerning eye, asking herself if she was attracted to them - she never was. So she remained confused by the attention she would lavish on the Sharon's body from the start - she loved her breasts in particular, the way they seemed to fill every shirt just so, the way they fit in her hand, the laugh that would escape Sharon's mouth every time she would run a thumb or her palm over them. She lowered her lips and gently kissed the scar. "You, you don't have to." Sharon murmured, using her fingers to lift Brenda's head up, to look her in the eyes. She loved how in the dark her eyes became black - it was harder to see what the other woman was thinking - she could only rely on what she felt. Right now she felt safe and she felt wanted. "I want to." Brenda responded, laying herself flat on bed, pulling Sharon with her before rolling over her so she was on top.
They would learn how to get to normal.
It would just take practice and hard work.
Luckily, Brenda thought to herself as she dropped a string of kisses down Sharon's body, easing the waist of her pants off of her hips, they weren't afraid of a little work.
Practice made perfect, after all.
The end.
Rating: R to M (for mild descriptions of ladysex)
Ship: Brenda/Sharon
Disclaimer: Not mine; never were! No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: With Fritz gone, and her relationship with Sharon growing more serious, Brenda begins to wonder about just how close she's willing to get to the other woman. Sharon, it seems, has already made that choice for them.
Previous Chapters ( One) ( Two) ( Three) ( Four) ( Five) ( Six) ( Seven) ( Eight) ( 9[a]) ( 9[b]) ( Ten) ( Eleven) ( Twelve) ( Thirteen) ( Fourteen) ( Fifteen) (Sixteen) ( Seventeen) ( Eighteen) ( Nineteen) ( Twenty)
A/N: I just wanted to say THANK YOU to everyone who's read and everyone who's commented! I never, ever expected this to spiral off into this whole crazy 21 chapter opus and I could not have done it without all of your super kind words! So just know how much it's meant to me!
Inertia con't - In common usage the term "inertia" may refer to an object's amount of resistance to change in velocity.
| | |
Normal was something Brenda Leigh Johnson never quite understood. She understood easy, and liked it, but she had questioned normalcy and it's place and purpose for so long that by the time it crept into her life, one act and one word at a time it was too late to stop it. Besides, what was normalcy? Tonight would be considered normal to most people - but was a novelty to her. She had made dinner (well, unpacked it and put it on plates - which was almost the same as making it) and curled up on the couch beside Sharon and watched their new pet. Fritz had meant it when he offered Brenda her pick of the litter and she knew from the moment she saw Tommy that that was the kitty for them. Tommy was a strawberry blond little thing - bossy and pushy - and she had a strut like a tom cat. Fritz laughed when she pointed him out - he knew her too well. Tommy was Sharon's concession to her - her way of making her feel welcomed, of making this her home too. She still had her apartment - more out of laziness than anything else. She'd be surprised if anything was left there, all of her important things having found a home amongst Sharon's things here.
She was leaving tomorrow for Atlanta - she had promised her mother she would tell her father, and she would. Sharon meanwhile would be heading back to work, her first day of desk duty. She had asked if Brenda wanted her to go home with her but Brenda declined. Brenda could already see what would happen - she would tell her father and he would get up and leave. They wouldn't say anything more about it until Brenda left and in a few weeks she'd get a letter detailing how he felt. She wasn't scared - not yet anyways - the letter was some ways away. She wouldn't get scared until the envelope came, addressed to her in his precise print. She wished she could be there for Sharon's first day but was certain her presence would be felt - Major Crimes had left a 'Welcome Back' gift for her in the form of a broom stick on her desk. Just thinking about it made her laugh - she knew Sharon wouldn't want anything to change in the way people treated her, so that was what she made sure Major Crimes did.
But that was tomorrow and tomorrow was so far away.
Sharon rose up from the couch and held out her hand to Brenda, "Come…"
"Bed? But it's so early and look - Tommy's showing us how she plays with the squeaky mouse - aren't you, Tommy?" Brenda can't help it - the kitten makes her happy - she's never understood people's need for children when there were pets to be had, a fact she pointed out to Laura at least once a day.
"Suit yourself," Sharon shrugged as she dropped Brenda's hand and walked past towards the stairs. "If you'd rather play with a squeaky mouse than me, so be it." Sharon climbed the stairs without looking back. She knew Brenda wouldn't be far behind…She could already hear the other woman's footsteps following her up. She pretended not to notice her until she opened the door to their bedroom - it was theirs now - and started to get changed. "Oh, you came up?"
"Well, with an offer like that…" Brenda replied, closing the door behind them, leaving them alone in the mostly dark room.
"Like what?" Sharon innocently as she placed a firm grasp on Brenda's waist and pulled her close as she delivered a hard kiss to the other woman's lips. Everything so far had been gentle - her condition dictated it - but she was tired of gentle. She wanted to feel - not brushes and caresses but forceful pushes and pulls - she wanted contact. She wanted every inch of her body to touch every inch of Brenda's. She wanted the other woman to still feel her when she left for the airport, she wanted Brenda's lips to be bruised with kisses and her neck to be dotted and marked - she wanted others to stay away, to know that Brenda was hers. Because she was - she was all hers.
Sharon was amazed every day she woke up to discover that Brenda was still there - there was so much that surprised her about the other woman. She had learned that she was compassionate and kind…mostly. She had learned that she was inventive and adventurous when it came to learning how to be intimate again. She had learned not to let her anywhere near her stove, or her oven. She had learned that Brenda made faces behind her back. She learned that she still had to catch her breath after an unexpected kiss. She had learned that as far as her love for the blond went, she still hadn't found her limits. This terrified her - it terrified both of them. The hospital bed declaration of love had changed their relationship, but it hadn't changed them. Both women remained stubborn and cautious and still carried the scars of all their previous relationships - they were still Brenda Leigh and Sharon Marie - they just happened to be in love.
Brenda could tell from the ferociousness of the kiss what the other woman wanted - she wanted the same thing - with the recovery came so much uncertainty but they were always able to connect in this way in the dark, without words to misconstrue. Maybe more so after the shooting than before. Making love became a way for them to say the words that they were still too scared of saying too often, it became a way of proving it. Proving it was what Brenda tried to do every time she saw the scar. It was still red and angry, two inches of puckered flesh above the curve of Sharon's breast. She had tried from the start to mention it, touch it, do whatever she could to show she wasn't afraid of it when the truth was, it terrified her. It wasn't just what it meant, that any moment they could be gone - it was something they both knew; she just didn't want Sharon to think about it anymore than she had to. It was always on the back of the brunette's mind, it had to be, every activity was tinged with discomfort as her body adjusted to itself again. Every outfit had to be considered for ease of putting on and taking off. Favorite shirts remained in the closet for fear of exposing too much. New bras had to be purchased to avoid aggravating the tender flesh (Brenda didn't mind the last one so much - she hadn't gotten lucky in a fitting room before that day).
Shirts were unbuttoned and removed swiftly - Brenda found herself seated on the edge of the bed, with Sharon straddling her lap, hands wrapped up in her blond locks, tugging her face up to meet the passionate kisses. She couldn't think, she couldn't move - all she could do was sit there and try to breathe. She reached her hand around Sharon's back and unhooked the bra and watched as the thin material fell between them. Brenda wasn't a breast woman - she had never understood people's fixation on them. Some were big, some were small, most were boring - after she started seeing Sharon, she would look at other women with a discerning eye, asking herself if she was attracted to them - she never was. So she remained confused by the attention she would lavish on the Sharon's body from the start - she loved her breasts in particular, the way they seemed to fill every shirt just so, the way they fit in her hand, the laugh that would escape Sharon's mouth every time she would run a thumb or her palm over them. She lowered her lips and gently kissed the scar. "You, you don't have to." Sharon murmured, using her fingers to lift Brenda's head up, to look her in the eyes. She loved how in the dark her eyes became black - it was harder to see what the other woman was thinking - she could only rely on what she felt. Right now she felt safe and she felt wanted. "I want to." Brenda responded, laying herself flat on bed, pulling Sharon with her before rolling over her so she was on top.
They would learn how to get to normal.
It would just take practice and hard work.
Luckily, Brenda thought to herself as she dropped a string of kisses down Sharon's body, easing the waist of her pants off of her hips, they weren't afraid of a little work.
Practice made perfect, after all.
The end.