by some strange and miraculous miracle, the major crimes division hadn't needed to spend christmas week solving a case - it was too good to be true that sharon would get that lucky again with new years. it was already a quarter past ten, and no sign that they'd be leaving any time soon. truthfully she could leave, there's no reason for FID to be involved in this case, anymore, she has lieutenant sanchez to thank for the personalized invite to this less than cheerful gathering. truthfully there'd been a small part of her that was glad he'd taken that shot, because it meant she got to see @deputychief more than she normally would with an ongoing case.
she could tell they were all uneasy of her presence, because it meant they had to behave the best they knew how. at least provenza had the courage to flat out ask what she was still doing there, and it didn't look like anyone believed her response of i'm just here to help. of course she couldn't flat out say that she was there for their deputy chief, because no one knew except hr what was going on between them. none of them knew their departments were quite literally in bed together. she's grateful that brenda chirped up, told them all to be grateful because it meant they might get to go home faster, and it was coated in that sickly sweet southern charm. that seemed to be a satisfactory answer to them.
an undeniable disappointment has nestled between her ribs, and sharon so graciously attempts to subdue it. had it not been for the fact that this was their first new years, she's certain she wouldn't have so much as batted an eye. but sharon did enjoy celebrations, and the holiday traditions, and brenda's company - okay, maybe she would've batted an eye. ❝ half of your team is practically crawling out of their skin, and it's not because of the crime scene photos on the board. ❞ she can speak freely in the confines of the blonde's office. ❝ oh how terrible a ‘ captain raydor ’ supervised new years is. ❞ she's not offended, in fact she finds herself amused that she has such an affect on a group of grown men.
it was hard to recall a holiday that hadn’t been tangled with work—whether it was snatching a few moments for dinner or unwrapping a handful of presents before duty called her away to honor, serve, and protect. of course, brenda cherished the rare moments of personal time with family, but a part of her would always crave the rush of the chase. it was why she excelled in her role at the department—putting the politics of personal entanglements aside. brenda was a closer.
christmas had come and gone, leaving a trace of disappointment. she couldn’t help but feel a little down knowing that all the decorations would soon be packed away in boxes, the music that filled the streets would fade to silence, and the dazzling lights in the sky would give way to the usual smog of los angeles. even sharon’s whimsical, carefree attitude would slowly fade, like an elf losing its magic. and while new year’s was just as significant—a fresh start—it didn’t carry the same magic.
but that wasn’t what was consuming brenda now. the whiteboard in front of her was a chaotic mess—colored markers linking evidence across a grid of mugshots, candid photos, and bloody crime scene shots. she’d been hitting dead ends all evening, and it was wearing on her, especially with her team’s distracted attention toward the brunette. there was no time for niceties or explanations. she had just shut down the pointless conversation with a cold, finality.
the sound of sharon’s voice snapped brenda back to reality, pulling her from the quiet office where the constant buzz of tip lines and hushed conversations had faded into the background. despite the sarcasm in the woman’s tone, brenda realized how much she had missed her in the brief moment she had zoned out. for a second, she almost wished for an embrace, the feeling of sharon’s lips on her skin, grounding her and making her whole again. A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth before she shook her head, dismissing the thought - realizing they were not alone.
“that’s not true, and you know it," brenda said, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her thick black glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. “they think supervision is always a reprimand—no matter who’s in charge." she exhaled a heavy sigh, then turned away from the board, stepping back for a moment to regroup and refocus. “i’m sorry you have to spend your evening here," she added, the weight of the apology hanging between them. “i know it’s not ideal and i promise to make it up to you.”
