Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Sharon!”

Brenda Leigh Johnson stood staring at her reflection in the body-length mirror leaning against her girlfriend’s bedroom wall. Typically, what she was putting on didn’t mean so much, but dating someone as flawless as Sharon Raydor had brought about insecurities she’d never experienced. They practically lived together now for all intents and purposes, and she couldn’t bring herself to be outshone.

“What is it?” Sharon darted through the door, worry etched into her features.

“How do I look?”

A heavy sigh fell from the older woman’s lips as she squared herself before the woman she adored. “Brenda…what are you stressing about?” She let her voice fall to that deep, sultry pitch she only reserved for people she cared about in crisis.

“Just…” Brenda paused and took a breath, letting her frustration wane. “Tell me I look okay.”

Sliding her hands up and down the slippery rayon of her lover's stark pink jacket, Sharon smiled. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Oh, you’re just saying that.” 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Okay then,” Brenda stepped back and twirled. “What about the skirt?”

The blue and matching pink flowery garment was hideous in Raydor’s eyes, but all she could see was the supple curves hugged tightly by the fabric. The tiny waist cinched beneath the blazer and its oh so many buttons. Inch upon perfectly sculpted inch of the woman, she would gladly tear naked, if they had the time.

“Looks amazing to me.”

“See? I know you’re lying. You hate this skirt!”

“Just because it’s not my style doesn’t mean it’s not fabulous on you.” Sharon took Brenda by the arms and tugged her close, only bending down to slide a hand beneath the outfit in question. 

Brenda wiggled and squealed as long, slim fingers tickled their way up her thighs.

“Ooh! Stop that!”

Sharon paid her no mind, brazenly cupping her sex through her cotton panties. “I’ll stop if you will.”

“I can’t stop what I’m not doing.” 

Pressing her index finger between quickly heating folds, Sharon pinched around Brenda’s clitoris, drawing a moan.

“Does the outfit really matter?”

“No…”

“Are you going to be on time for our meeting today?”

“Yes…” The sound was more pleasured than Brenda intended, and she practically jumped away, squeezing her thighs together at the sudden loss. 

Luckily, her cellphone rang before more words or taunting could be shared. She stepped away from what she wanted to answer the call of what she needed.

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

While listening to the conversation, Sharon had no idea which team member was the guilty party, but she vowed to find out later.

“Alright, you guys get to work, I’m on my way.” Brenda shared a calculated smile as she hung up the call. “My team caught a murder, guess you can’t torture me now.”

“It’s not a wise idea to challenge me, you know that, right?”

“Uh-huh!” With a high-pitched lilt, Brenda grabbed her heels and ran.  She knew there would be hell to pay later, but she had to get out of that condo.

Sharon knew exactly what she was doing, and though she didn’t move, she shouted her orders behind her fleeing partner. “I’ll still be expecting you at 10:30!”

“Okay!”

And with that, the door slammed unceremoniously. 

It was going to be a long damn day.

**

The murder Major Crimes had picked up turned out to be legit, but only because the Hollywood division was out of overtime.  Brenda spent the morning doing everything she could to avoid her impending meeting, but everyone seemed to be in on the scheme.  When Taylor showed up at the very live crime scene, she knew Sharon had called in reinforcements.

After a thorough dressing down from Chief Pope and a lecture on the outright demoralization of women in the LAPD, she was mortified. But Brenda knew Sharon didn’t get on her high horse for nothing, so she buckled.  And quickly, she was alone in her office with her favorite Captain.

“What makes tomorrow better than any other day?”

Sharon studied her lover exhaustively, for business and for pleasure. “Because the mayor is finished with all the other applicants, and you’re the only woman, so you’ll make for a vivid contrast. I think… we should capitalize on your feminine strengths.”

Two could play at that game. “Which are?” 

“Honey…” Sharon squirmed awkwardly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, because you know how much I love how you look in everything or nothing, but…”

“But what?”

“The purse is the first thing to go.”

“What’s wrong with it?”

“This bag helps people underestimate you, which I think is a good thing when it comes to criminals, but the mayor is somebody you really want to impress.”

“You know, Captain, I have a lot of nice clothes. I just don’t like to overdress at work.”

The use of her title stung Sharon to the core. “I get it, and there is no one who would ever accuse you of that, but we want the mayor’s first impression of you to be as a woman capable of handling a lot of power, to look at you and think something like, wow.”

“You mean, because I’m a woman.”

“No, don’t misunderstand me. Because most candidates for chief of police run popularity contests, and you’re not especially political, well-liked, or even friendly. If you ask certain people.”

Brenda was on fire, and not in a good way. “I’m not interested in politics.” 

“Exactly, and therefore you won’t blame the mayor for the LAPD’s budgetary crisis or publicly demand that he fix it.”

The younger woman ignored the words of someone she was supposedly important to.  Glossing her lips, she was clearly ready for all the nonsense to be over.

“Chief!” Sharon returned the title favor.

Brenda snapped back to attention, angrily. “What?”

“There is a reason this is a short meeting in the afternoon. All the mayor really wants to know is how you two will get along. Think of it as a chemistry test.”

Exhaustively disgusted after hours of nonstop back-and-forth, Brenda was thankful when Taylor beat her door down to discuss their case. Sadly, that led to a very late-night interrogation and the untimely presence of Fritz Howard. For Sharon, the only redeeming quality was finding out the truth about a suspect. Everything else would have to wait until later.

**

The following morning, all seemed right with the world of Police.  Major Crimes’ case was well on the way to being solved, Brenda pulled out her snazziest threads—of which Captain Raydor rigorously approved, and Taylor and Pope were otherwise occupied.  Unfortunately for Sharon, it meant following behind her girl as she put an end to a murder.

She tried to distract her from actual work with breakfast, but nothing could keep Brenda Leigh Johnson from getting what she wanted.  And in the end, as usual, the Chief got precisely that.  The right man was behind bars, and a cheater was exposed.  

Then all too soon, the mayor could no longer be avoided.  

“I was tempted to bring a uniform escort to take you across the street.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” Brenda fidgeted with her dress.

Sharon squirmed inside her pinstriped jacket as she closed the office door. “Honey, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Do you really not want to be Chief of Police?”

“No, I don’t.”

“And as a woman, don’t you feel an obligation to at least give it a try?”

“As a woman, I feel I’ve earned the right to options, and one of my options should be to say no.”

“Well, you’re not wrong.”

“No, I’m not.”

“I guess we just see things differently.”

“In what way?”

“I took the path of most resistance, while you got your position the old-fashioned way.”

“How so?”

“By sleeping with the boss.”

Brenda was instantaneously pissed, and Sharon backpedaled.

“I don’t mean that as an insult. It is a time-honored way of moving forward. But those roads are not open to everyone, and you have the chance to maybe change that a little.”

“So you’re saying I should take the job whether I want it or not?”

“Yes.” Sharon stood, hovering her lips mere inches from her partner’s. “Please make the oh-so-terrible sacrifice of accepting a promotion that offers you more money, prestige, and power than any other job in the city. And if it will help you with the suffering, you’ll not only be a positive role model for little girls all over this country, but I personally will feel very…” She held back tears. “I will feel very proud to have a Chief I can truly admire.”

Brenda fought the urge to kiss Sharon at that moment.  She was twisted in knots.  If meeting with the damn Mayor meant that much to the beauty hovering in her space, she would do it, but that didn’t mean she had to like it.  Yet somehow, simultaneously, she suddenly wanted the stupid job.  Leave it to Sharon Raydor to all at once turn her to a feminist.

Two hours later, the damned interview was over.  Short afternoon meeting her ass.  Brenda walked back across the street, her feet begging for mercy with every step.  Tugging her phone out of the tiny purse Sharon had needled her to carry, she was unsurprised to find at least a dozen missed messages.  Most were work-related, but the only one that truly mattered lay squarely in the middle of the pack.  Brenda tapped the text to open a reply, but for some reason thought better of it.

As she exited the elevator and made her way to her office, she smiled at the blissfully empty murder room.  Just before she pushed through her door, Brenda tugged off her heels and let the cool tiles calm the overheated pressure points at the bottom of her feet.  She shut the door behind her and sank into her desk chair's refuge.  If she were honest with herself, the interview wasn’t all that bad, yet still, she was exhausted.

Realistically, that had more to do with the fact that she didn’t sleep at all the previous evening without Sharon by her side.  Sure, she’d brought the loneliness on herself, of course, once again she’d run away. Because she didn’t know how to ask for peace—she’d always just taken it for herself.  And for some reason, it hit her…

Both of her ex-husbands had reminded her on many occasions how she’d left them out of everything significant in their relationships. They’d always ended up yelling at one another, and those were the moments when resounding bitterness permanently planted its roots between them. But with Sharon, everything was different.  

When Brenda had texted her the previous evening to say she was going to her place, she’d been expecting a fight. Instead, Sharon responded by telling her whatever she needed was fine.  Under the weight of stress she assumed, as she usually did when absorbed in her own pride, that her lover was finally growing sick of her. Now she knew nothing was further from the truth.  In an instant, her heels were back on her feet, the tiny purse tucked away in her giant tote, keys in hand.

Fifteen minutes later, or a split second by LA standards, Brenda was willing the elevator up to the eleventh floor.  When the doors finally opened, she kicked off her heels again, sprinting for the condo.  Her hands shook trying to press the key into the lock, but when it finally landed and she pushed her way inside, the jade eyes glowing before her made her world feel whole again.  Brenda dropped everything, taking only the time to close the door behind her.

Rounding the sofa where Sharon sat, in a purple satin nightgown with long legs crossed, Brenda kneeled before her and wound her fingers into the chestnut hair at the base of her neck, pulling her down into a bruising kiss.  Sharon knew an apology when she felt one, and languished in the heavenly touch of moist, wanting lips.  Without breaking their contact, the brunette tugged her lover into her lap and ran her hand beneath the hem of her red dress.

“Mmm…”  Brenda moaned, then reluctantly pulled back, her lungs burning for oxygen. “Wait, please.”

Sharon froze, but didn’t remove her hand from where it lay pressed between heated thighs and drenched cotton panties. And she stared, mesmerized by the heaving of creamy pale cleavage. Tucking a finger beneath her partner’s strong chin, Brenda met her gaze intently.

“I need you to know three things.”

“Alright…”

Brenda swallowed hard. “One—I’m sorry.”

Sharon had already expected that, and she let her eyes drop to Brenda’s neck, where her rapid pulse and the deviant freckle just above her right collarbone were visible.  She wanted to lick that spot, but shook herself instead. 

“Two?”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Their eyes met again.

“For forcin’ me to see past the end of my own nose. Sharon…” she tucked a strand of coppery hair behind an ear, the lobe of which she longed to suck. “I know what a pain in the ass I can be, and I don’t know why I never realized it before today, but…”

“You’re not a pain in the ass. I prefer to think of you more as a challenge.” Sharon let her lips curl in a half smile.

“Thank you again, but I’m serious.”

“So am I.” Sharon laid her lips over Brenda's knuckles as she tucked their free hands together. “I know you feel guilty for taking time for yourself last night, and perhaps even because you fought me so hard prepping for your interview, but you have to know I only want what’s best for you.”

“I know that now,” Brenda swallowed hard. “I’m so used to bein’ pushed aside by men that I just can’t seem to fight the urge to try and dominate everything.”

“I get it. Why else do you think I deal with being abhorred by the entire LAPD? Why do you think I want you to take the position as Chief of Police and break up the boys club?”

A smile blossomed over Brenda’s features then. “Because you want to sleep with the boss?”

“Oh, honey, you’re a Deputy Chief… I’ve been doing that for a while now.” Sharon licked her lips.

“Well then, I guess that brings me to my third thing…”

“I’m all ears.”

“Please don’t run out on me when I say this.”

“I only run for exercise.”

Brenda inhaled heavily, her eyes closing as she let the breath go.  Then she placed her palms against rosy cheeks. “Sharon, I love you.”

Then and there, tears piled upon the brunette’s delicate lashes.  Sharon blinked, and warm streams trailed down her cheeks.  For a second, panic began to well in Brenda’s chest, that is, until a sweet, cracked sound fell from her lover’s lips.

“Oh, honey,” Sharon pressed into her personal space.

“It’s okay if you want to leave.”

“Brenda…” she kissed her sweetly. “You are everything to me.”

It was the younger woman’s turn to cry.  For once, she didn’t hide the emotion that threatened to overwhelm her.  She couldn’t if she’d tried.  She knew the beauty in her arms was a destiny written into her story long ago.  All the pain and heartache they’d suffered, simultaneous yet separate, necessary to remind them of all they’d found in one another.  In the rote legends of the past, women weren’t designed to see so much meaning in one another, yet suddenly Brenda longed to scribe her own chronicle—one she felt would turn history on its ear.

Sniffling away her tears, Brenda stood wordlessly, asking Sharon to follow.  She did so without breaking the silence, and quickly the pair was slinking away to their bedroom.  The last remnants of the workday removed, Sharon let her eyes wander over Brenda’s exquisitely taut body. But the younger woman would not wait long—tugging the hem of amethyst satin hovering at Sharon’s mid-calf, she was pleasantly surprised to find no undergarments in the way of what she wanted. The velvety expanse of delicately freckled skin made her mouth water.

“Fuck.”

Sharon grinned. “That’s what I was hoping you would do.”

“Your wish is my command.”

With a mischievous smirk, Brenda dove onto her lover, sending them both to the queen-sized bed, spread and ready.  After a deep, unrelenting kiss, nipples were sucked and toyed with, a harmonious chorus of arousal hanging deliciously musky in the air.  

Brenda suddenly felt emboldened, and after one last lick at Sharon’s chest, she flipped her body and planted her face between glistening thighs.  Sharon laughed from deep in her chest.

“Sixty-nine, huh?”

“How better for us to enjoy each other, my dear?” The blonde snarked.

With the sound of devilish intent Brenda radiated, Sharon one-upped her lover with a swift and calculated flick of her clit.  The squeal she was rewarded with sent another rush of arousal between her thighs, and in an instant, they were off to the races.  The two beautiful women devoured each other, inch by luscious inch, secure in the relationship they had forged.

When they were both high and buzzing from the scrumptious vibration of orgasm, Sharon meandered and pressed her bare chest against Brenda’s back, holding her close.  Sucking again at the long expanse of her neck, she only pulled her lips away to whisper in her ear.

“I love you too, Brenda Leigh.”

“I’m gonna make you proud.”

Sharon breathed out in a mixture of reverence, affection, and humor. “You already do. Every. Damn. Day.”

Brenda shivered at the warm accentuations of Sharon‘s breath on her skin, and again she didn’t hide the tears in her voice. “Same here, baby. Same. Here.”

And so, in the shadow of all that the world may deem taboo, came the best night of sleep they’d had in years.  There was nothing to stand in their way—men, merit, or otherwise. The world was their oyster, and they held the only net.