Brenda sat on her side of the bed rubbing lotion on her legs when Sharon emerged from the bathroom wrapped in a fluffy towel, wet hair clinging to her neck and face. Under ordinary circumstances Brenda would find the disheveled Captain more than she could resist... but these were no ordinary circumstances.

Today, she found out that the Captain still planned to pursue the damned investigation even though Chief Delk – god rest his soul – was six feet under and the audit should have gone with him. Today her girlfriend was willfully pursuing an investigation against her.

Sharon was painfully aware that Brenda wasn't looking at her. Sharon had gotten in late, she'd purposefully avoided the house until she knew Brenda would have already eaten. She felt like a coward but she believed in her oath to uphold the law, including holding herself to the same standards. As such, she refused, on moral principle, to divulge the fact that Pope – and Pope alone – had ordered the investigation to continue.

She'd been so angry. She thought back to her conversation with Pope and the anger welled up in her again. Time and time again she'd been used as the scapegoat, her position as Captain of FID already left her unliked and she was the perfect fall person for bosses who wanted their units investigated. The old 'don't blame me, blame internal affairs' routine was really starting to get old.

Brenda didn't want to believe that Pope would throw her under the bus. He was named in the lawsuit too… he should want the lawsuit to go away.

It didn't matter how long she'd shared her home and her bed with Brenda, she was still internal affairs, she was still the enemy.

Sharon untucked the towel, slung it over the towel rack and moved to get into bed.

"Uh-uh!" Brenda protested.

Sharon paused, hand on the corner of her blanket. She narrowed her eyes, "uh-uh?"

"You think you're getting into this bed then you've got another think coming." Brenda folded her arms across her chest.

"You've got to be kidding me." Sharon blinked disbelievingly.

"I am not."

"I have never kicked you out of this bed!" Sharon snapped, "not after any of those god forsaken overlapping investigations. I didn't kick you out after you stole my evidence, diverted my detectives, sent me on wild goose chase after wild goose chase while you interviewed my suspects and countless other infractions that I can't even remember anymore. I have never brought work home with us."

"You're goin' to start tellin' me how much I mistreat you at work?" Brenda felt a new surge of anger, her accent thickening as she went. "I have never questioned your conduct. Do you know that makes me feel? I may have done all those things but I have always done my job and solved my cases and gotten justice."

"Yes, you have always done your job and I have never held it against you. All I'm asking is the same courtesy. I am just doing my job."

"No one made you pick IA." Brenda grumbled.

"No one put a gun to my head, no. I made my own choice, I'm not making excuses but I did pick it, I'm the force investigation division Captain. You knew that when you picked me, no one put a gun to your head either."

Brenda picked up Sharon's pillow and held it out to her. "Guest room's down the hall." She said stubbornly.

Sharon huffed, clenching her teeth to keep the outburst that threatened. She went over to her bureau and started forcefully opening her drawers and dressing quickly.

"What are you doing?" Brenda demanded.

"What do you care?" Sharon snapped. She wanted to scream, she wanted to cry, she wanted to break every breakable object in the room. She pulled on a pair of slacks and threw a cashmere sweater over a camisole.

"Don't be like that." Brenda scowled.

"Giving me orders in my own fucking house." Sharon muttered under her breath, "take your indignation and shove it up your ass, Chief, have a good night."

Sharon strode out of the bedroom.

"Sharon! You get back here!" Brenda leapt up from the bed and went to the doorway to watch Sharon descending the stairs. "I'm mad at you, you don't get to be mad at me!"

"Why don't you call me when you figure out what's really going on? Until then don't even fucking talk to me." Sharon slammed the door and a picture that hung near the door rocked on its nail.

Brenda stared at the door in astonishment. Did they just break up? Should Brenda move out? What had just happened? Brenda was willing to admit that maybe she'd overreacted… just a little.