Disclaimer: These characters are not my property. They are merely borrowed for entertainment.

A/N: I love The Closer. I started watching because of J.K. Simmons of Law and Order and Oz fame. Anyway, I like his character, Will Pope, and I thought I would play with it a bit. He's maybe not so popular like Fritz, but I like his complexity. If you like it, let me know.

sheila

Regrets

He shifted in his chair unable to hide the scowl that rode his weathered features. Body language was everything; he knew this, but he was unable to mask his distaste for these proceedings, leaving his tense, closed posture open to interpretation. Will Pope had power in this town, and there weren't many people who could intimidate him, but the three sitting across from him could bury him without a sweat any day of the week.

The man in the middle absently played with a pen, making tapping noises on the cheap conference table, and Pope was glad to see that the disturbance was irritating the other two individuals who seemed as irritated by the distraction as he was. Oblivious to the energy around him, the man in the middle leaned forward. "Assistant Chief Pope, we were hoping for more cooperation from you. This is nothing more than a simple inquiry."

Pope tried not to smirk his sarcasm as response. He stretched his mouth as if considering a response. "Councilman Perpich, I would hardly call this a simple inquiry. I am dragged away from my work by three members of the Los Angeles city council to answer questions about my personal life. Simple is not a word that best describes this inquiry."

The woman beside Perpich picked up a sheaf of papers and waved it at him. "This police department has had more scandals than any other in the history of law enforcement. The name LAPD is synonymous with corruption, brutality, you name it. If something smells funny, we're going to be on it; your private life be damned."

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. He was wearing his uniform today, and as usual, the collar was digging into his neck. He wanted nothing more than to loosen his tie, but he wasn't about to give them the satisfaction of his discomfort. "Well, since it is Kangaroo court day, it's probably best we get started."

The third city council member read from a piece of paper on the desk. "Assistant Chief Pope, is it or is it not true that Assistant Chief Brenda Lee Johnson was your girlfriend?"

"We dated."

"And is it true that you have given her preferential treatment since bringing her on board here?"

Pope licked his lips. "No, I do not believe that is true."

The woman at the other end of the table spoke, "We have six signed affidavits from Commander Taylor that describe incidents when you have given her latitude outside departmental policy."

"I brought Assistant Chief Johnson in because she is a top notch investigator. In addition, her interrogation skills are unmatched by any detective I have ever seen. I brought her to LA because she is incorruptible and smart and something of a bulldog when she has a case. I believe that the LAPD needs more people like Brenda Lee Johnson."

"You recently filed for divorce from your wife of 7 years, Estelle Pope, isn't that correct?"

Pope sighed and closed his eyes. "What is the relevance of that question?"

The woman shook her head. "This is not a court of law, Chief Pope. We don't have to establish relevance."

Pope looked away for a minute. It was an opportunity. He would tell them to all go to hell, and walk out of there. Work in this department was nothing but a headache, and witch hunts like this happened too often. He'd take six months and fish marlin down in Baja, and then maybe he'd take a position consulting for the FBI or teaching at a university. He told himself that he would look back on all of this and wonder why the hell it had taken him so long to walk away.

He allowed himself this fantasy for a moment before answering. The truth was he loved what he did; he loved being a cop and he wanted the LAPD to be the best police force in the country. He turned his attention back to councilwoman Stevens. "I have filed for divorce from my wife."

"And the circumstances of your dissolution?"

He chuckled. "Well, she left me so I guess you'll have to ask her."

"Perhaps, she'll tell us that Assistant Chief Johnson played a role in her departure."

"No, she will not tell you anything of the sort. Assistant Chief Johnson and I are not involved. Our relationship is strictly professional."

Councilman Perpich snorted. "You mean to tell me that you bring your girlfriend to town, give her a job that other more qualified LAPD officers should have gotten, treat her differently than these other officers, and we are not supposed to conclude that there is anything unprofessional about your relationship."

Pope spoke slowly. "I brought her because she's the best, and we need the best: now more than ever. I brought her in despite the fact that we had a prior relationship not because we had a prior relationship. I treat her differently because her style is…unorthodox, and this department is filled with individuals who get their noses out of joint over any slight they might perceive. I brought her in because she gets the job done. She isn't diplomatic or politic, but she's brilliant and she solves cases. There is nothing improper going on. In fact, I believe she has a serious boyfriend so that leaves me out."

"So you claim to have nothing but professional regard for Assistant Chief Johnson?"

Pope let a lazy smile play on his lips. It had always been disarming when he smiled. When he was young, his smile took no prisoners, but twenty years, a few wrinkles, and a balding pate had softened his appeal. Instead of a handsome cocky young police officer with a penchant for being the first one in the door, he was now an aging desk jockey with more regrets than he could bear to acknowledge and an empty house to go home to.

"Chief, must I repeat the question?"

Pope shook his head. "Brenda Lee Johnson is beautiful, brilliant, and irrepressible. I have extreme respect for her professionally, and will continue to fight to protect her position with this department—"

Stevens interrupted. "Is it professional to think of her as beautiful?"

He waved away her question. "As I was saying, I will fight to protect her position within this department because I believe that she makes a positive difference."

"As to your remark concerning her appearance—"

"I will always regret that I didn't fight for her when we were together." He raised his brows. "You can write that down actually. Do you need a minute? I regret that I hurt her. I regret…never mind. The truth is…she's moved on. She sees me as her boss, nothing more, and I will not threaten that relationship for my own personal wishes."

Stevens shook her head. "This is highly irregular, Chief. I'm not sure what…"

Perpich looked at his two colleagues and the three of them were silent for a moment.

Feeling loose for the first time since he walked in the door, Pope smiled broadly. "I sort of suspect we could do with a little more irregularity around here. We're so tied up in the bureaucracy that we forget the individual. A talent like Brenda comes in, and because she has a…distinct style, she is immediately under suspicion, when the truth is she's brought nothing but results. I could make this easy, and tell you that I'm not a little in awe of her, but I won't because I am. Commander Taylor is a fine officer, but he wasn't going to bring the energy and creativity to the position that Brenda has, and I do not regret the decision to bring her to LA. If Commander Taylor could focus as much energy on his job as he does his career, there's a chance he might give her a little competition."

"Okay, Chief, but there's this matter of your feelings—"

Pope stood up. "I have work that can't wait. Sorry. As for my confession, it sort of feels good. Do with it what you want. Frankly, my life sucks right now, and all I really want is to be left alone to work hard for this city. Check my record. See if you can find evidence that I've ever wanted anything else."

Perpich signaled for him to sit, but Pope was already at the door. The council members looked at each with brows raised as Pope softly closed the door in his wake.

………………………………………………………………………………….

Brenda Lee Johnson frowned in front of the door to his office. Life was always a little easier when she waited for him to come to her. Less interaction equaled less tension and less remembrance of things past, but she was too curious to just walk away. Disturbed would have been a better word, but she rarely allowed that emotion to be part of her thoughts of him anymore. She knocked and turned the handle at the same time. That way, he couldn't just lie and say he was busy.

He looked up from his paperwork and sighed. She walked in the room without an invitation and sat, giving him her best southern smile. "I know you're busy, Will, but I was hoping to take just a couple minutes of your time."

He nodded and leaned back, taking his reading glasses off. "Shoot."

Still smiling as innocent as a kindergarten teacher on her first day, she said, "Well, a couple of little birdies I know said they saw you go into a pretty high powered meeting today. Said it looked like a nail biter. City councilpersons came all the way down just to talk to you."

"I wonder if these 'little birdies' have jobs they should be doing instead of nosing around in other people's business."

She cleared her throat and re-engaged her smile. "Yes, well, it has also come to my attention that several complaints have been filed against you by a certain commander we both know, and they have some relation to your supervision of me."

He threw his hands up. "Does anyone actually do any work around here?"

Her smiled faded. "I just want to know if I'm compromising your position here in the department."

"No, Brenda, you're not. This was…stupid. That's the best word for it. City council is a little trigger happy when it comes to scandals. That's all."

She pushed her bottom lip in and out. "They know about our prior relationship?"

He resisted an urge to get frustrated and tell her it was none of her business, but he didn't. Actually, he couldn't anymore because he was protecting her from everything these day especially himself. "Like I said, they're scandal happy; nothing to worry about."

"Is that why you haven't left your office all day?" She pulled her glasses off her face and watched him intently. Brenda Lee Johnson was a brilliant study of human relationships except when it came to herself and those around her. She always struck him as sort of guileless when it came to her own life.

"Brenda, it's okay. Honestly, there's no problem."

"Did they ask about me?"

He brought his hand up to his face and rubbed his eyes. He'd lost track of time, and had been at his desk for at least 9 hours. "Yes, they did and I told them that you and I have nothing but a professional relationship, and they believed me because it's the truth."

"They ask about Estelle?"

"Really, I don't want to talk about this."

"Will, I always will appreciate that you brought me in when I needed some place to prove myself, but this is your turf. If things are going sour, I'm the one who should pack up and—"

"No!" The intensity surprised both of them. He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. "You're not going anywhere…at least not unless you want to. I want you here. You're good for this department. Besides no one's leaving, and if someone was, how do you know that I don't want a change of scenery?"

She frowned. "This is your home, Will."

He shook his head. "My house is empty. I don't have a particular home right now. In fact, I'm giving Estelle the house. I'm already checked into a hotel. You're the one with the future. You have a good team, a house, ten cats you won't acknowledge, and…a good man in your life. You are not going to uproot anything right now."

"You're a good man." She lowered her eyes for a moment. It was at times like these that part of him wondered, but potential disappointment in finding out was too great right now.

He folded his hands in front of him and looked intently at her. "I've made a lot of mistakes, Brenda, and my biggest one was letting you go." He put up a hand. "I'm not saying this to confuse you. At least, I hope I'm not. I just want you to know that I know that I hurt you, and I want to actually be the good man you met all those years ago at an FBI seminar. I want to be a good guy again."

She bit her lip, a troubled look on her delicate features. "I don't know what to say."

He smiled. "There is nothing to say. Just know that everything is okay. It's my job to field the flak; it's your job to make the cases."

"I want to…I don't know…."

For a moment, his breath caught as he waited for the words that would take them back three years, but he could see the distress in her eyes, and he knew that playing to her vulnerability ten seconds after he'd told her he wanted to be a good guy again, wasn't going to do either one of them any favors. He stood up and rounded the desk. "Look Brenda, I'm okay and you're okay. When was the last time we could say that to one another? If you don't believe me, check with your little birdies; my guess is that they're not going to get wind of any more emergency meetings with city council members. We're at a good place with each other, and I don't think either of us thought that was ever possible. Let's not mess it up, okay?"

"But—" He took her gently by the arm and steered her toward the door. She turned around to face him. "Don't be a martyr. What happened was both of us, not just you. If you need me…my help, I mean, I'm there for you. Always will be. You hear me, Will Pope?"

He nodded curtly, his mouth set in a grim line. He knew he couldn't survive much more of her presence right now. She let him push her gently out the door and close it. Then he hung his head and leaned against the door. He was tired: exhausted, in fact. It wasn't hours of paperwork or frustrating meetings or even Miss Brenda Lee Johnson. It was his life in this moment; a sweeping tale of ambition and putting his needs before others. The consequences of it all weighed heavily on him. Visions of the dusky burn of expensive scotch grew in his head, but he knew that was just another deadend road. He turned back to his desk, and reasoned that another two hours of paperwork would leave him too exhausted to engage in any nonsense. As he settled back into his chair, he thought back to his showdown with the city council. He'd revealed too much; it was bound to come back and bite him, but he couldn't muster up any regret about saying it. It was the truth; he knew it and more than a few people walking these halls did too. He suddenly realized that he would never regret the truth; it was the one thing that would save him. Well…that, and a sweet blonde Southern girl with a voice as thick as honey and a tenacity of a coonhound treeing a squirrel.

The End