round and around in the setting sun (major crimes | andrea/sharon)

[fiachairecht]

round and around in the setting sun. major crimes, andrea/sharon. the evolution of a relationship as reflected by the city. 742w, rated t.

i. so l.a. the motels ii. btsk ms mr iii. better regina spektor iv. thieves like us new order v. city of blinding lights u2 vi. undertow warpaint vii. #1 crush garbage viii. dry and dusty fever ray. listen @ 8tracks.

the dream and the woman and the time and you are all very welcome to hollywood

It's an accident, the first time, almost. When you're coming out of Parker Center still reeling from Ally Moore's deception and she's coming out of the courthouse biting mad about a series of bad rulings the judge only made because he didn't like her wearing pants; when you quite literally run into each other on Temple on your way to the Little Tokyo station looking for home or a drink or or or; when she’s on her knees picking up scattered papers and you dip down to catch her hand and you can both tell the exact moment your friendship flips over into the undefinable other. It's an accident. Almost.

*

big teeth small kiss, i turn to wax and melt like this

And, oh, she is very, very good at making you forget the horrors of your jobs, very good at making you see stars instead of streaks of blood when you shut your eyes. There's a thousand reasons why you shouldn't be doing this, why you should protest when she pins you against the wall in your office and slides her hands up under your skirt; there's just one reason why you should and that's the only one you pay attention to. 

*

will you feel better, better, better, will you feel anything at all?

It's an extension of your friendship, an elevation, the only possible outcome for two women who met in the early years of the Gates department and spent the years pulling each other up through to Major Crimes and Special Trials. There's two decades of friendship and trust between you that should really provide some incentive for you to not go down on her in your office, but you do and the world doesn't stop turning and she doesn’t hate you and no one else notices a thing. You've been doing this for a year before you say her name when you come, and something flips. Again. And it’s not an accident anymore. 

*

it's called love and it cuts your life like a broken knife

When she gets shot, you stop. Walking, thinking, breathing; you stop and you feel: my fault. Which is ridiculous because she carries a badge too, because she knows what she's getting into every time she picks up a new file just as much as you do. But you can't shake that feeling, even after you shoot the prick that nearly killed her, even after she falls asleep with her head in your lap. Love and guns, it seems, are more alike than anyone thinks: they’re both really good at fucking up your head. 

*

neon heart dayglo eyes, a city lit by fireflies

Once upon a time an idealistic patrol officer and a crusading baby DDA stood side by side at the window of the cop's twelfth-floor apartment and watched downtown Los Angeles burn with the fires of the Rodney King riots. Twenty-two years later both those women are dead, replaced by tired captain and a jaded AHD who stand on the AHD's balcony and watch the San Gabriel mountains burn. It's still sickly beautiful; they still can't imagine life without each other.

*

please light these decisions that only one could make, i wanted to stay home but i went running from the troubles

You go home to her. Go home. To Andrea. (Or maybe she comes home to you, depending on who's had the worst day.) The phrase still feels strange rolling off your tongue, too many years of going home to a silent house make her (and Rusty) a harsh adjustment. But the fact that you forgot what it was to lie in someone's arms, watching headlights push the night farther and farther past you doesn't mean you’ve also forgotten how to love it now that you've reclaimed it. 

*

i've been dying just to feel you by my side

It's hard to love again, harder still to trust yourself to love again. But she's here, and she stays through the blood and the tears and the guns and stalkers and you stay with her too because you're falling in love with her over and over again every minute. Because you know Andrea and refuse to acknowledge Not-Andrea, you know she knows Sharon and refuses to know Not-Sharon. Because you need to keep each other alive. 

*

your hand, my hand, fits so easy

Los Angeles has more than its fair share of miscreants, and you're well acquainted with all of them. More: you know how close you are to becoming one of them. God, heading Major Crimes is just going to turn you into Brenda 2.0, you think sometimes, skirting the line between illegal and legal in the name of staying on the right side of the one between good and evil. She listens to your worries, kisses you, makes it all hold up in court. She keeps you grounded, even if she doesn’t quite keep you good, and you do the same and it’s enough.