Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Major Crimes – I am only borrowing them – and will not be financially benefitting from the story in anyway. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author Notes: This is just a little Shandy two-parter that I've been working on; I'm experimenting with using a first person perspective – and you are my victims! The perspective switches between characters – but hopefully it's obvious who is who!

Thanks to Mellow_Mel for her beta work – much appreciated as always!

The Raid - Part 1

It's just before dawn.

We stand, quietly huddled together by the entrance to an abandoned care facility; guns armed, adrenaline pumping - waiting for the charge.

With a crash the door opens and we file in – one by one – my heart in my throat, my gut wrought with tension.

"LAPD!"

We sweep through the property on high alert – trained eyes looking for any sign of the pursued.

It's rare for me to partake in a raid; I'm not ashamed to admit that years spent sitting behind a desk in FID, have left me a little out of practise when it comes to being in the field like this.

I know protocol, of course – and I'm an accurate markswoman – however interrogation and management are my forte and as a team, we always play to our strengths.

With Lieutenant Provenza at the helm, my team are my eyes and ears – however I do realise the importance of seeing action from time to time; to lead by example, so to speak…which is exactly why I find myself here.

Gun raised and a flashlight illuminating up my path, I ascend to the second floor; side stepping plastic bags and a dusty old roll of carpet as I cautiously approach a doorway near top of the stairs.

The door is open, just a crack. My torch casts a sliver of light through the gap – and my breath catches in my throat; I am sure that I see movement.

In the distance I can hear calls of 'all clear', as my team check the remainder of the rooms down below; there is a woman missing and we have no time to spare. On the count of three, I hold my breath and firmly kick the door with my boot. It crashes into the wall behind it, and although the bang is expected, I still start at the sound.

"In here!" I yell to my colleagues as I enter the room; checking the large open space for the suspect – ensuring that I am alone - before kneeling on the floor next to the unconscious body of a woman.

The scuffed wooden floorboards scratch my knee trough my pantsuit as I lay my flashlight down and check her neck for a pulse. The victim's skin is cool beneath my fingertips – her weakening pulse is in sharp contrast the pounding of mine in my ears.

The sun begins to rise and light filters through strips of newspaper that are covering most of the windows; I can now see that the woman is bleeding from a wound to her stomach…the blood loss is minimal…the injury looks fresh.

'This has only just happened,' I throw another cautionary glance around the room. 'Her attacker may still be nearby,' but the room appears empty, save for a few scraps of trash and an old dust sheet.

I reach into my coat pocket for my cell phone - however before I can dial - my worst fears are confirmed, with the sound a pistol being armed.

"Drop it," a gruff voice sounds from behind me and a I freeze momentarily; a sense of dread washing over me as I raise my arms above my head to announce my submission.

"I said drop it!" The man hisses as he swats the phone from my hand, before removing the firearm from my grasp. With a large fist, he grabs a handful of my hair and hoists me to my feet; instinctively I pull at his hand as I find my footing – but when he presses the barrel of his own gun firmly into the base of my skull, I halt my protests.

I can't see him, but I feel his solid chest pressing against my back and his thick forearm wrapped firmly around my waist; the foul stench of stale body odour fills my nostrils.

"My team is just downstairs," I speak with feigned control into the dimly lit space before me. "I just called for their assistance; they'll be with us any second now…"

"Oh, I'm counting on it," he sneers, before pulling me closer into his side as we take a step backwards towards the windows at the rear of the room.

In my mind's eye I see the image of the office murder board; its' surface decorated with the photographs of victims. I know too well what this man is capable of - and that knowledge chills me to the core.

I remain silent, knowing that my team coming into the room guns blazing will only fuel his anger.

The woman on the floor stirs and then settles. I close my eyes, focussing on her shallow breaths in an effort to keep calm, until the soft sound is drowned out by that of approaching footfall.

"Sharon?"

'Andy!'

My eyes fly open and my heart rate quickens; of all my team, I am closest to Andy.

'Closer than I should be…'

I silently pray that he can handle this.

Lieutenant Flynn is a great detective, this is not my concern; if Andy fails here – I am equally to blame.

Andy and I are not romantically involved; we are as close as I have allowed us to be…

When we are alone, I can feel his wanting; there is heat that radiates through his skin, it charges the air between us – drawing me in like a moth to a flame. Yet in those moments, when our eyes meet and I see his yearning - I look away - like I'm a shy girl; the intensity of emotion that his hunger evokes in me…it makes me so nervous. But I am no longer a girl; innocence is far behind me, what was once firm is now soft…If I were younger maybe…if I wasn't his boss…

I keep making these excuses.

"Sharon?" He calls out again, his voice which sounds nearer this time has taken on a more desperate lilt.

I know from working countless Use of Force Investigations, that maintaining a professional distance is important; being romantically involved with a colleague can affect an officers' judgment in a dangerous situation.

Yet here we are, in a dangerous situation – and the second Andy enters the room, I realise that denying us a physical relationship, will have absolutely no bearing at all.

I am in love with him regardless - and with that epiphany – I instantly feel regret.

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"Clear!" I yell - disappointment evident in my tone as I secure my third empty room. I want nothing more than to catch this dirt-bag; it makes me sick to think about what he did to those women – but I can't get those images from the crime scenes out of my head.

Now another woman has been reported missing – and time is running out.

This building has been empty for a long time; graffiti covers the walls and there's used drug paraphernalia all over the floor. It looks like the rooms have been used by local gangs – but we're yet to find any evidence that the tip-off about our suspect is genuine. This son-of-a-bitch is no gangbanger; Daryl Penney is a sick bastard whose methods are cold and calculated. His victims are carefully chosen, stalked and tortured…the guy has an extreme hatred for women…

"In here!" I hear Sharon yell from upstairs – and my heartrate quickens; she has found something. As I move back into the hallway, I pray to God that it isn't another body.

I look around as I enter the hall and quickly realise that the reminder of my team and the handful of officers with us from SOB are still on the ground floor.

'How the hell did that happen?'

All of us have heard the Captains' call – but she is up there alone.

Provenza appears to have made the same observation and is hurtling along the corridor towards me; we share a worried glance before I turn in front of him, and lead the way up the stairs – my heart in my throat.

It's not that I think the Captain isn't capable; Sharon is anything but incapable – it's just that it's so rare to have her accompany us in the field, that when she does…It always puts me a little on edge. That's not because she's my boss – I never felt that way about Chief Johnson when she was in charge….but then again, I was never in love with Chief Johnson

"Sharon?" I call out as I climb the stairs – but the wall of silence that meets my ears, fills me with a sense of unease. As I near the top, I see there is an open door; fear grips at my heart and my pace quickens to a scramble when I notice the pale arm of a women, draped across the dirty floor.

"Sharon?" I shout out, just before I reach the open doorway; my eyes instantly falling on the form of a young female victim. Just for a second, I feel relief that the body isn't Sharon – but then movement catches my eye and my gaze travels quickly across the floor to an image that I know will forever haunt my dreams.

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'What the in hell, Flynn?'

Flynn has suddenly stopped in the doorway to the room at the top of the stairs - and I almost run into the back of him.

I'm about to voice my annoyance - but I see his shoulders tense. I take a cautionary step backwards when I see him take aim at something on the other side of the room.

From this position, I can't see much, but know that revealing my presence to whomever is actually in that room - could be a mistake. Instead I raise my arm to hold off the rest of the team ascending the stairs, and attempt to peer through the gap between the open door and its' hinges.

'Dear God…' my blood runs cold. 'Daryl Penney has the Captain.'

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I witness short-lived relief passing over Andy's features when he realises that the body on the floor is not mine. My feet shift as my assailant tightens his hold on me – and the movement brings my predicament to Andy's attention.

As quick as a flash, I see a torrent of emotions passing behind his dark eyes; his concern rapidly fades to anger - and the lieutenant raises his gun to point it in our direction.

"Let her go," he speaks firmly and calmly - though the tenseness in his jaw belies his tone. "It's over, Daryl."

"It might be over for her," the man nudges me with the arm holding the gun. "But not for me. As you can see detective – I have leverage."

I look to Andy; he is an open book right now – at least to me. It pains me to witness his dilemma – to see the feelings he is trying to suppress, bubbling to the surface. This is my fault – I have put him in this situation – I have done this to us…

He needs a distraction.

"The girl's still alive, Andy," I manage to choke out - and it feels like I haven't spoken for a very long time. My voice is horse; a fact worsened when my captor shifts his grip from my waist to my throat and pulls me backwards with him.

"Who told you that you could fucking speak?" Penney yells into my ear and I squeeze my eyes shut when he presses the barrel of the gun more firmly into my skull.

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Penney grabs Sharon by her throat – and my finger on the trigger twitches; I'm using every ounce of self-control I have not to shoot him. He's holding her so close; I'm a good shot but what if I hurt her? What if he delivers his bullet, before I mine?

I look at Sharon and her eyes are squeezed tightly shut. I know she is silently pleading with me to keep my cool - and she's right to plead; I can't lose my temper – not now – not when there's so much at stake.

I can sense my team standing behind me; Provenza silently willing me to lower my weapon, to not do anything stupid.

I clench my teeth and inhale deeply through my nose as I try to take stock of the situation.

My mind flashes back to the psychological profile we built about Daryl Penney. He is smart – but not overly so – and more recently he's gotten sloppy. Mike even suggested that Penney might actually want to get caught...

My experience is telling me that if Penney is the one that has lured us here – it's either because he wants to kill us or he wants to negotiate.

As I make my first move, I pray to God that it's the latter.

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"Alright,"

When I hear Andy speak, Daryl loosens his grip on my throat and I choke in a breath. I had been so sure that at least one of them would pull the trigger…yet here we still are.

"Look," Andy continues, dropping his guard and raising his hands above his head. "If it's a negotiation you're after, then I'm open to it - but first you've gotta let me get this woman to a hospital."

"What?" I hear the confusion in Daryl's tone; apparently that wasn't a reaction either of us were expecting from the Lieutenant.

"Because you know," Andy re-holsters his weapon and takes a short step towards the woman on the ground. "A show of good faith like that - it just might help you out in court."

"Yeah right," Daryl scoffs, a puff of moist air bathes my ear and I wince. "That's BS and you know it! There's not a chance in hell of me avoiding death row."

"That's not strictly true,"

"What do you mean?"

"We make deals, kid," Andy looks away and shrugs, feigning nonchalance – when I know he must be feeling anything but. "Well, more specifically – our Captain makes deals."

"He does? Then, why in the hell am I talking to you?"

My captor takes the bait – and I feel a glimmer of hope.

"Hey, I can get the captain for you, Daryl," Andy nods. "But first, you've gotta do something for me."

"Like what?"

"I just need you to let the other two members of my team that are standing outside, take this young woman to safety."

Penney falls silent; I can sense the cogs turning in his mind - and the wait for him to decide is excruciating. I know that there are four more members of my team in that hallway and 2 officers from SOB. I am completely in awe of my lieutenant; it appears that he has a plan and I feel a pang of guilt at my earlier expectation that he would fail.

Eventually, Daryl voices his decision. "You'll get your Captain to talk to me?"

"Yes, Daryl." Andy looks into my eyes now, his dark eyes revealing everything that he is unable to say. "I'll personally see to it."

TBC

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