A/n: Cracky bit of ficage that popped into my head in the early morning hours.
Disclaimer-Don't own them, clearly. Barely even have enough cash to put gas in the car.

One day. He just wanted one day where he wasn't running interference for the three-ring circus that was Brenda Leigh Johnson and the detectives of the Major Crimes Division. Assistant Chief Will Pope shuffled into his office wearily, flopping down behind his desk. Not for the first time that morning, he cursed the three-AM call out and the gangbanger who thought he could one-up the LAPD, necessitating the involvement of the apparent bane of Brenda's existence, FID Captain Sharon Raydor.

Why is it always me?

He blew out a short sigh, leaning back in his chair for a few well-deserved moments of peace before the cataclysm that was Brenda Leigh Johnson and Sharon Raydor working a concurrent case descended on his peaceful office. He couldn't understand the tension between the two women at all. It was always the same, a mishmash of Brenda pulling rank and Raydor waving the rulebook in her face, always with the same result—Will with a thunderous headache, and one of the two women infuriated with him.

He glanced up when one of the current objects of his thoughts entered the room, dropping her ridiculously oversized handbag into one of the empty chairs in front of his desk. "Chief Johnson."

"Mornin', Will." Brenda flipped her hair over her shoulder and dug through her bag furiously, letting out a triumphant noise as she extracted a chocolate bar.

Blue eyes narrowed in slight confusion. "I thought Captain Raydor was riding back with you?" He had, in fact, insisted on it in the hopes that Major Crimes wouldn't mislead FID, or vice-versa.

The blonde munched on her chocolate happily, flashing a disarming smile. "Oh, the Cap'n decided she wanted to take the stairs."

"Oh, really?" Will massaged his temples, already feeling a headache building. "Well, um, good for her, I guess."

"LIAR." Captain Sharon Raydor stood, hands on hips in his doorway, her normally pretty features marred by a furious scowl.

Brenda smiled. "Well, hello there, Cap'n. How was your walk?"

"I…am…going…to…kill you." Raydor stalked forward menacingly, the click of her heels punctuating each word.

Will quickly stood, worry gnawing at his gut. "Wait…what's going on?"

The situation devolved rather rapidly from there.

"She made me walk up from the parking garage!"

"Yes, well, you called me a manipulative harpy who only got her way through ridin' on other's coattails!"

"You called me a vindictive bitch first!"

Oh, for the love of…

"LADIES!" Will raised his voice to a near parade ground roar, reaching in and forcibly separating the two women, a firm hand on each shoulder keeping them in place. "Now that we're listening…We can very easily solve this conflict, if the two of you would shut up and sit down."

Eyes wide, both sank down into the chairs he shoved them towards.

"Now. This…fighting business, it has to stop. So, we're going to resolve this once and for all."

"But Will…"

"Nah ah!" He held up a hand, silencing Brenda. "No buts. Follow me, both of you. And keep your hands to yourselves, or I'll cuff the both of you."

One elevator ride later, they stood in a mostly unused conference room on one of the upper floors.

Will grabbed two wheeled chairs and dragged them out in the hall, directing both women to stay put with a sharp glare. He disappeared down the hall and returned moments later with—oddly—two brooms.

"Oh, look, Cap'n…he found your broomstick." Brenda smirked.

"Shut up." He grabbed Brenda by the arm, dragging her to one chair and handing over the broom. "Stay there."

After performing the same on the brunette Captain, he stood back to survey his work. Brenda knelt in one chair, the broom gripped securely under her left arm, handle pointing outward. Sharon knelt similarly in the opposite chair, a slightly manic glint in her eye.

"Two girls enter, one girl leaves! Two girls enter, one girl leaves!"

Brenda eyed her opponent nervously, swallowing. "Um…I…I don't think this is a very good idea, Will."

"This is the only way I see to solve the problem." He folded his arms, clearly unsympathetic. "Well, other than nude mud wrestling." He muttered the last under his breath, shaking his head. "On the count of three, then."

"One…"

Sharon's chant grew louder, her grip on the broom handle tightening as she braced a foot on the floor, ready to push off.

"Two…"

Brenda blew a stray section of bangs out of her eye, her features darkening in a scowl.

"Three!"

WHAM. CRACK!

"Owwwwwwwwwwwwww…"

~Five Minutes Later~

"Brenda, I'm docking your pay for damaging the furniture. Sharon, I'm docking your pay for breaking the broom."

Brenda winced and probed at a growing knot on her head, standing stiffly from the floor. "But…"

Sharon held her ribs protectively, using the wall for support as she stood. "Yes, sir…"

Will smirked, leaning against the wall. "Now, children, what have we learned from this little skirmish?"

The blonde scowled, her shoulders slumping as she glared at the floor. "I shouldn't be a bitch to the Captain, even if she deserves it sometimes."

The brunette sniffed, tossing her hair. "Violence doesn't pay. It just gets you cracked ribs and subtracts from your bank account."

Eh, close enough. Will nodded sharply. "Good. Now shake hands, and we can get back to work."

Through a curtain of fake smiles, the two women clasped hands.

"Sorry, Chief."

"Sorry, Captain."

They stood a moment longer, glaring stonily at each other as the handshake went on.

"Chief, are you trying to crush my hand?"

Brenda grinned, though it lacked any real sincerity behind the smile. "Just checkin' to make sure you don't have early-onset osteoporosis."

Sharon's shoulders stiffened. "How kind of you. Maybe I ought to kick your legs out, make sure you don't have early-onset arthritis."

"Ladies." Will groaned, holding a hand to his forehead. "If you two don't cut it out you'll BOTH have early-onset unemployment."