Just a little something inspired by a review for Modern Art. A reviewer mentioned that she would like to have seen Julio's thoughts on the "Work with Me People" sign in Raydor's office. Well, it got me thinking that maybe all of Major Crimes had thoughts on that sign.

My goal is to, eventually, have a short little oneshot about each person's thoughts on that sign. Each will stand alone, so I'm marking this as complete. But I will add future oneshots as chapters to this story.

This first one takes place in the first season after "Before and After," but before "Medical Causes."

Work With Me People

Lieutenant Provenza

Work With Me People

He squinted to read the sign from the seat she'd forced him to take. Like hell he'd work with her.

It was a new decoration. It hadn't been in her old office. He'd been in her old office enough times to know, by heart, what her décor looked like in the days when she had haunted the pits of hell - or Internal Affairs, as she called it-. Right down to the name "Emily" scratched neatly into the bottom corner of her desk. It was small, barely noticeable, and Provenza doubted that the Wicked Witch even knew it was there. He remembered seeing it the first time, years ago. It had made him instantly like the little girl who had etched each letter so carefully.

He wondered if that desk had been sold along with the rest of their old furniture.

It was probably the Wicked Witch's idea to sell all of it. She'd probably found out her daughter had defaced her desk, and- after beating the child within an inch of her life- had decided that she needed a new desk. Then she'd noticed the new desk wouldn't match all the other desks and décor, and, well, one had to constantly color coordinate.

Okay. Fine. That wasn't completely fair. The Witch loved her kids. Even other people's kids if Rusty was any indication.

She'd probably only threatened to beat the girl, and maybe starved the child a bit.

Work With Me People

He almost snorted when he read it again, but then she'd know for sure he wasn't listening to her drone on and on about ways to stay under budget. Really, what did he care about that? It's not like he was the one in charge. Although, he hated to admit some of her ideas were rather…not horrible. Like sending Amy or Julio down to the shooting range with some cadets once a month. The detectives would still get their hours – but they'd come from someone else's budget- plus Major Crimes' budget would increase since they'd received a small portion of the federal funding reserved for training police officers. She'd also wanted his opinion on sending Buzz to a few LAPD training courses. It wouldn't make him a police officer, but it would make him more useful in the field. They wouldn't have to pay him more for taking the classes-just pay for the classes themselves. She thought it would be worthwhile investment.

Goddamn Witch.

She was winning them over, too. Several of the team had been partially won over long before her transfer. It was that damn beanbag gun. She'd definitely earned Julio's respect that day, and Mike's too.

He supposed it was an impressive shot.

Work With Me People

He'd bet his pension it was a going away present from the Underworld. Internal Affairs had probably been happy to send her off, and even happier to force her onto Major Crimes. They couldn't pass up the irony of buying her that. He'd have to send someone down there to find out. Maybe Rusty would be willing to talk to someone down there…he wandered around the building enough anyway…the kid probably knew as many people in the building as he did.

"If you're done admiring my decorating skills, Lieutenant, I'd like to hear your thoughts on the subject." She smiled, but her eyebrows were raised, and her lips pressed together just slightly. It was the look she gave Rusty when she knew whatever he was saying wasn't completely honest, and that if she just let him keep talking he'd eventually groan and tell her the whole story. Complete with theatrics, of course.

Damn woman.

He didn't say anything. Just raised an eyebrow and smiled.

She leaned back in her chair, relaxing slightly. Her arms rested on the armrests, and, turned upwards, her fingers did that thing where her thumb rubbed against her other digits - almost as though she were counting.

"It was a gift" she said, at long last.

He let his confusion show, deepening the wrinkles between his eyebrows.

"The sign." She gestured with a slight movement of her head without actually looking at it.

"Hmm…From your friends in IA?"

"No."

Well, damn. It wasn't often he was wrong.

She continued, "From Chief Johnson."

It wasn't often he was surprised either.

The surprise must have shown in the way the wrinkles between his eyes nearly disappeared as his eyebrows rose which deepened a new set of wrinkles on his forehead.

"Agent Howard dropped it off, but the note was from her. Amongst other things, she said that she'd wished that those words had been tattooed on her forehead for the first few months she'd worked with Priority Homicide."

He missed those days. Some more than others.

He wondered what Internal Affairs got her, then.

"Internal Affairs just pitched in for a very lovely card and a gift card that they placed inside the case of Star Wars DVDs. The originals, of course."

The deep wrinkles left his forehead and moved back between his eyes. He could feel his slight confusion once again fall back into place. Damn this woman for making him look older than he already did.

She rolled her eyes, but her hands stopped their movement as she leaned forward with a smile that was…well…playful…almost. Almost. "You don't really think I'm oblivious to what people call me, do you? I'm rather proud of my Darth Raydor reputation."

He shook his head, and rolled his eyes. "Send Amy to play nice with the Cadets. She'll enjoy it. Julio would just enjoy scaring them. And I'm sure Buzz would be thrilled to do something different that would help "poor old Lieutenant Provenza" with anything just as long as he got to rub it in later."

"I'll be sure to mention that to him when I talk to him about it." Her smile had shifted. She was all business again, but her posture remained more relaxed.

"You do that." He got up to leave not waiting for an actual dismissal. He paused once he was standing however. "I liked your old desk better."

He felt rather vindicated when her head tilted in confusion and a few of her own wrinkles appeared around her eyes. It was too short a moment, however. Understanding dawned quickly.

"Would you like me to have my daughter carve her name into your desk the next time she visits? I'm sure she'd be more than happy to help."

Of its own accord his hand rose slightly, and his finger pointed at her. Slashing in short movements through the air occasionally for emphasis. "You keep all of your children away from my desk, Captain. I only put up with "artwork" and whining when it comes from my grandchildren, now."

She wasn't trying very hard not to laugh.

He shook his head. "Just promise me you're not hiding another brat under your desk. I don't know how many more mini-Raydor's the LAPD can handle."

She sat up straight, adopted an exaggerated look of shock, and her voice rose an octave in pitch. "Oh, my! Is that where I lost that child? I was wondering where she'd run off too."

He rolled his eyes as he snorted, and headed out of the office.

"Thank you, Lieutenant, for your input." Her tone was once against all business, and filled with sincerity.

He stepped outside of the office, and closed the door behind him.

Work With Me People.

Yeah. Right. Like that would ever happen.

Thoughts? Concerns? Whose internal dialog would you like to hear next? Is it time for the second half of season three, yet? Please?