Chapter Text
Brenda glanced at her phone before picking it up, “hey you.”
“Hey.” Fritz responded.
“Are you getting ready to head to the airport?” Brenda looked at the clock quickly before looking back to the road. She braced herself as the driver took a sharp turn.
“Actually, no.”
“Oh?” Brenda furrowed her brow. “Won’t you miss your flight?”
“Surprise!”
“Surprise what, Fritz?” Brenda fought the urge to roll her eyes and her partner shook his head.
“I got here early!” He smiled. “I’m at the apartment.”
“You’re at the apartment?” She repeated incredulously. “I wish you would’ve asked me before changing your flight. I'm in Manassas. O'Shea and I are chasing a lead."
"No problem." Fritz insisted, "I'm tired from my flight anyway. I'm going to grab a nap. This way I'll be rested by the time you get home. Maybe I’ll get you some groceries and do some tidying."
"Okay, sleep well. Love you." Brenda didn't wait for the reply before hanging up. She chewed her bottom lip uneasily.
“Everything alright?” O’Shea asked with a knowing smirk.
Brenda sighed inwardly. “My husband came early and is going to spend the day cleaning my apartment! Yay…” She bemoaned with sarcastic enthusiasm.
Fritz didn't love his wife's brusque manner but understood that she was on duty. He pulled off his polo shirt and dropped it on top of his bag and stripped down to his boxers. He climbed into bed, shut his eyes and feel asleep before his head even hit the pillow.
There are many reasons why a married couple would live on opposite sides of the country but very few did it to rekindle their relationship. Sure, Fritz hated being without Brenda back in L.A. but it did mean she didn't get to see Sharon Raydor.
The last year had been a challenging one for Brenda and Fritz. Fritz had figured it out months before he actually had the nerve to bring it up, but he realized that his wife was infatuated with Sharon Raydor. Brenda had denied it at first, of course, but, one night after consuming enough Merlot to drown an elephant, Brenda tearfully lamented that Sharon would never feel the same way for her. She swore that nothing had physically happened between them – with the implication that it wasn’t for lack of intention on Brenda’s part. Fritz spent the next week at a hotel until Brenda showed up on his doorstep asking how she could fix what she’d done.
The solution ended up being that Brenda would accept the job in D.C. and Fritz would visit once a month and maybe Brenda would return to L.A. once a year or for any unforeseen special events.
This was Fritz’s fourth trip out to D.C. and Brenda hadn’t stepped foot in L.A. for almost six months. He was beginning to think that their solution had been right on the money as the time they’d spent together in D.C. had been wonderful.
Fritz awoke from his nap a few hours later and stretched out sleepily. He checked the refrigerator and chuckled and shook his head at his wife’s eating habits. The contents of her fridge consisted of several Chinese food takeout boxes, one third of a chocolate layer cake and three bottles of coconut water.
He ate a thin slice of the cake and grabbed a coconut water before heading out to do some grocery shopping. He stocked Brenda’s fridge with fresh fruits and vegetables, eggs, steaks and bacon; he stocked her pantry with staples and extra soup and canned tuna fish.
He turned his attentions to the living room next and started picking up the sweaters and shoes and various other clothing items strewn about the space and put her laundry in the washing machine. He swept the kitchen and vacuumed the carpeted areas. He hated himself a little for waiting on her like that but he honestly had nothing else to do.
By the time the dryer cycle ended he’d already finished his book and there was still over an hour before Brenda was supposed to get home. Brenda didn’t bother to pay for cable at this apartment and he was stuck watching whatever was on the basic channels while he folded the laundry.
He lugged the laundry basket to the bedroom and began by hanging up the sweaters and skirts, put the t-shirts into the drawer and opened the top drawer for socks and pushed her pile of unpaired socks to the side and put his meticulously paired socks next to it. Opening the underwear drawer yielded a similar result: unfolded underwear tossed into the drawer carelessly. He pushed the haphazard pile to one side and was about to lay in his folded underwear when he saw the stack of letters that had been hidden under the chaos.
Fritz’s heart pounded in his chest when he saw the neatly scrawled handwriting and return address of Captain Sharon Raydor.