Inspired by Carrie Underwood's song "I Know You Won't" which I do not own. I also do not own The Closer, or the characters I am playing with for my own (and hopefully others') enjoyment.
I Know You Won't: A Fic in Two Parts
Sharon sat with her legs crossed under the bar. Will sat next to her facing away from the bar, but angled toward her so that his legs hid the way the outsides of their thighs pressed together, and the way his hand on her knee was tracing tickling patterns on her skin where her skirt rode up. She wasn't one to encourage lascivious behavior in public, but the drinks and the excitement of a successfully closed case were getting to her, encouraging her to drop her careful guard. The drinks, the excitement, and the fact that it felt so damn good.
Will twisted toward the bar to order another scotch, leaning closer to her in the process and sliding his fingers a few daring inches under the hem of her skirt. Sharon could have almost taken it as an accident, until he squeezed her covered flesh gently, briefly, and caught her gaze, a twinkle in his baby-blue eyes.
She felt her breath catch in her chest, and felt foolish for it. At her age, at their age, to have her head spinning so at just a touch, a glance. But Will Pope had a relaxed, charming way about him, and with so little effort set her both at ease and completely off kilter. The result was intoxicating, even more so than the wine she was sipping, and she knew without hesitation that if she had to choose between the two, it wouldn't be the wine she would have a second helping of.
She and Will had started dating just under a month ago, and while busy schedules hadn't let them progress much past a few dinners and some outrageous flirting via notes during division head meetings, Sharon was more than ready to take another step in their relationship. And unless she was drastically misreading the way his fingertips were drawing patterns on her thigh, higher and higher, Will didn't have any objections either.
As if reading her mind, he leaned closer, smiling in that way that lit up his eyes. "What do you say we get out of here? I can think of some better ways to spend our time."
Sharon wrinkled her brow in mock confusion, but couldn't keep the grin out of her voice. "Better than a cozy bar, good drinks, and your hand up my skirt?"
Will let out a low, growling chuckle from the back of his throat as his hand clutched at the outside of her thigh, but his grin grew wider. "How about a comfy couch, a bottle of wine, and my hand up your skirt?" he bartered. "Or better yet, you out of that skirt."
"I'd say that sounds like a good start." Her voice sounded low to her own ears, and she was sure Will would be able to hear the way her heart had taken up a loud rhythm against her chest.
"Will!" A familiar Southern drawl coated in sugar sounded loudly very near them. The couple jerked away from each other and Sharon's thigh suddenly felt very cold at the loss of Will's palm. Brenda Leigh Johnson was walking toward them, the rest of Major Crimes strolling through the door and settling themselves in a booth in the corner of the bar. They seemed to be celebrating something themselves. "I didn't expect to see you here in a million years!" The honeyed tone turned all but sour when she saw who Will was with. "Cap'n Raydor."
"Hello, Chief," Sharon bobbed her head in the blonde's direction before turning back to the bar and gulping at her wine.
"Will, I'm so glad you're here, you should come join us! We are here to celebrate closing that awful Roddick case and we absolutely couldn't have done it without your help." She had laid her hand on Will's forearm, Sharon noted out of the corner of her eye. "I absolutely won't take no for an answer." She leaned towards him conspiratorially and whispered loudly. "I'm gonna need your help talking Provenza down when he starts reenacting his interview with the witness. I overheard him practicing his accents."
Will bumbled some kind of response, no real attempt seemingly put into rebuffing the blonde's efforts. Sharon smiled tightly, humorlessly into her wine glass, knowing what was coming next. "I absolutely insist you come sit with us, Will, I'll let you buy me my first drink." In the mirror behind the bar, Sharon could see her smiling winningly, clutching Will's arm even tighter.
"O-okay, I'll be right over," Will relented, and though Sharon was unsurprised, the smile she could hear in his voice still felt like a knife in her gut.
Brenda clapped her hands, then angled toward Sharon, who was still facing away from her. "Oh, and, of course, you're welcome to join us, too, Captain." She spoke, her voice flat and halting.
Sharon made sure a smile was pasted into place before she swiveled on the barstool. "Oh, I absolutely couldn't, but thank you for that sweet offer." If Brenda noticed the mocking choice of words she didn't show it, instead giving a little smile that was really more of a wince before flouncing off to join the rest of her division.
Will watched her leave, and Sharon watched him. He turned back to her. "You should really join us. It would be nice to see better blood between you two. Between the divisions."
Sharon nodded, smile still pasted on. "Next time, maybe. Raincheck, I guess?"
Will raised his eyebrows as if he had forgotten about their impromptu plans, now interrupted by Major Crimes. "Oh, yeah. I'll call you tonight. Maybe I can come by, if it's not too late?" Sharon nodded again, smiled again. "I'll call you," he repeated, squeezing her hand, and after throwing a few bills on the bar, slid off his stool to join the party in the corner.
"No, you won't," Sharon whispered to her empty wine glass. She pulled on her black trenchcoat and belted it tightly.
Heading out the door, she pretended it was the cold wind that made her eyes water.