A/N: This really belongs in the "Major Crimes" category, but until FF posts one... Anyway, Flynn and Raydor are masters at avoiding relationships - most of the time. By special request for a new timeline story with a little angst in the romance. Enjoy, and please R&R (that's "read and review" for any newbies on the board).

Chapter 1: Down and Out

"Lieutenant Provenza, where is Lieutenant Flynn? Have you seen him this morning?" Captain Sharon Raydor was more annoyed than concerned, although Lieutenant Flynn was generally prompt and had not missed a day of work since she was named the head of Major Crimes.

Provenza looked up from his newspaper. "No Captain, I haven't seen him. He hasn't called in." Provenza checked his cell. "Nope, no calls from him all weekend, come to think of it. That's kind of unusual."

Raydor's face now mirrored more concern. "Can you try to reach him?"

Provenza nodded. "Sure, Captain." He called Andy's cell, but there was no answer. A text also went unanswered. "Captain, this is a little weird. How about I go check on him?"

"Good idea. And I'll go with you. Lieutenant Tao, you're in charge." Tao nodded.

"I'm a little worried, Lieutenant. This is not like him."

"No it's not," Provenza agreed.

Provenza knocked on the door to Andy's apartment, but there was no answer. He knocked harder. Still nothing. "Dammit Flynn, what's going on?" he said, and produced a key.

"You have a key to his place?" Raydor asked.

"And he has one to mine. For just such occasions." Provenza unlocked the door. "Flynn! Flynn! Where the hell are you?" he yelled.

A pause, then a slurred voice, "Who wants to know?"

"I do, asshole! Where the hell have you been?" Provenza snapped, then turned the corner into the den. Flynn was sprawled in his recliner, in a T-shirt and his underwear, sporting a three-day growth of beard and bleary eyes. The smell of alcohol was strong where a nearly empty bottle of bourbon had tipped over and the liquid had leaked into the carpet.

Provenza's mouth dropped open. Flynn was drunk. After 15 years of cherished, dearly held, fought-for sobriety, he was drunk. What the hell had happened? Few things would move Louis Provenza to tears, but the sight of his partner and friend, wrecked and drunk was one of them. Fiercely, he blinked back the moisture from his eyes, and found Andy's cell on the side table.

"What're you doing?" Flynn slurred.

"Calling your sponsor, jackass." He found the number and dialed it.

"I don't need my sponsor."

"The hell you don't." Provenza waited. "Hi, Gary? Louis Provenza, Flynn's partner. I don't know what happened, but he's here in his apartment, drunk off his ass. He was fine Friday night. Can you come over here? Thanks." He looked at Flynn. "He'll be here in 15 minutes. At least you didn't try to drive."

Throughout this exchange, Sharon Raydor stood in shock. She knew Andy was a long-time AA member. He didn't hide it – was very open about it, in fact. What could have happened? Well, the first thing to do was to keep this out of the LAPD rumor mill. She well knew that department gossip appeared out of thin air and multiplied spontaneously. She did know she could count on the Major Crimes crew to stay quiet about it. They were as fiercely loyal a squad as she had ever seen. They also knew Flynn's history.

She walked over to him. "Lieutenant Flynn? We've been worried about you," she said.

He lolled his head over and saw her. "Well, well. Captain Raydor! I'm touched that you care. That's a surprise."

"Don't pay any attention to him, Captain. He's an even bigger horse's ass when he's drunk than when he's sober," Provenza said.

"Shut up, old man. I'd forgotten how nice it feels to just, you know, not feel anything."

Provenza snorted, "Until that hangover kicks in. Dammit Flynn, what happened?"

"Why do you care? Not your business."

Provenza looked at Sharon. "And that's the other thing. Flynn is a mean, cynical drunk. He's not sloppy or sad. Just mean as hell."

"Sounds like it," Raydor replied. "Well, he's obviously in no shape to come in to work, so this can be a sick day, but what now? We can't afford this."

"I know, Captain. When Gary gets here, I'm sure he'll have some ideas. I'm really hoping this is just a transient thing. A blip on the radar."

"I certainly hope so, too. We don't need to lose one of our senior officers."

Flynn looked over at Sharon. "If you stay here, you won't lose me at all. You'll know right where I am, hot stuff." He gave her a red-eyed leer.

Provenza closed his eyes in misery. That was the other thing about Flynn when he was drunk: he was a horndog.

Raydor's eyes widened. "Excuse me, Lieutenant?"

"C'mon, Captain. You can't look in your mirror every morning and not see how damn hot you are. Take off that bitch armor and drop the ice princess thing for me and I'll give you a night to remember." His voice was boozy, but the lust was there, nevertheless.

A host of feelings flooded Sharon: outrage, amusement and finally, a thrill that he thought she was hot. It had been a long time since a man – even a drunk one – had complimented her as a woman.

"He'll apologize when he sobers up, Captain. I promise he will," Provenza said miserably.

"Apologize? What the hell for? What woman doesn't want to know she's sexy? Tell me that."

"Flynn, shut up. Just shut up," Provenza said. "You're making bad matters worse."

"Well, I didn't ask you to come in here, now did I? Can't a man have a private bender once in a while?"

Provenza said, "Captain, let's go wait on Gary. Flynn's impossible when he's like this. I'd forgotten just how impossible."

When Flynn's sponsor arrived, he looked sad. "Thanks for calling me, Provenza. I knew Andy hadn't been doing great emotionally, but he was getting to meetings and calling me, so I thought he was dealing with his problems."

"What's been going on with him? He hasn't said much to me!" Provenza exclaimed.

"You know how Andy hates change, and all this with Chief Johnson and a new department head and some of the cases you've worked recently… I guess it just overwhelmed him. But better to find out now before it really gets out of hand."

"Gary, this is Captain Sharon Raydor, the new head of Major Crimes."

"Nice to meet you, Captain. I can tell you for a fact that Andy has maintained his sobriety and he's worked a great program for a long time. He must really be down for this to have happened. Assuming he's willing to do the work, which I feel he will be once he gets sober, are you willing to work with him?"

"Of course. I need all my senior officers on my squad."

"Fair enough. Let me go talk to him." He went inside the apartment.

"Lieutenant Provenza, I really don't want Flynn to have to leave the LAPD. Truly, I don't," Sharon said.

"Appreciate that, Captain, and I know Flynn will, once he's himself again. Which may take a few days."

"Of course. I just have to wonder what precipitated all this."

"Me and you both. I sure didn't see it coming, and I know Flynn pretty well."

The two waited for what seemed like hours, but was only 15 minutes or so, when Gary came outside the apartment.

"Any luck in getting him to open up?" Provenza asked.

"Nightmares, which is what I figured. Remember that case you all worked in the winter, where the girl on the scooter got hit by the drunk driver?"

"God, yes. That was horrible," Provenza replied.

"Well, he's been having dreams about it. Frequently. I thought we'd dealt with it, really. But he finally admitted it was just too much and he got that bottle to see if he could sleep without dreaming, for a change."

Raydor closed her eyes and shook her head. "I can only imagine what he's been dealing with. I'm sure Chief Johnson suggested he see a counselor."

"She did, but he talked to me about it. A lot. I didn't know it had gotten this bad, though."

"Now what?" Raydor said.

"Well, there's a residential rehab facility in L.A. just for people like Andy: long-term recovery, then they have a relapse. It's a 14-day program. I think it would really help him. It's called Palm Shores. I've done counseling there and it's a great place. Everyone on the staff has at least 20 years in recovery, so they know what it's like. I strongly recommend he go there. I'll be glad to set up a referral and we can get him there tomorrow."

Raydor looked at Provenza. "Well, Lieutenant? What do you think?"

"Captain, I'm all for anything that will help Flynn get back on the straight and narrow. I'll stay with him the rest of the day and tonight, just to make sure he doesn't go buy another bottle of bourbon, and I'll drive him to the rehab tomorrow, myself."

She nodded. "You're a good friend, Lieutenant. I appreciate it and I know Flynn will when he's able to. Gary, I can't thank you enough for helping out here."

He smiled at the Captain. Andy had said she was the HBIC most of the time, but he could sense a tender core – much like Andy, whose very prickly exterior hid a very warm heart. Which was probably why he was having nightmares about that poor girl. "All right then, Provenza. I'll meet you two tomorrow morning here, at eight. We'll drag Andy there, if we have to."

"If he's as hungover as I'm afraid he's going to be, we may have to."

"Could be. But thank you for keeping an eye on him."

"No problem. Glad to help."

Raydor and Provenza went inside the apartment, and Sharon walked over to face Andy. He looked a little more alert than he had. "Lieutenant Flynn, because you're a senior officer, and we need you on the squad, I'm willing to work with you on this. Certainly, you're not the first police officer to have a drinking problem. If you go to Palm Shores in the morning and complete the entire 14-day program, you can come back, with never a word said. It won't go in your personnel file, and I will not tell anyone where you are. If you continue to remain sober, no one will ever know what happened. If, however, you relapse again like this, I will have no choice but to initiate disciplinary procedures. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Captain. I understand. I'll go."

"I'm glad. And I'm sorry about these nightmares. I can only imagine how awful they are."

"Go to hell, Sharon. You don't have the first damn clue what they're like." He turned his back to her in the recliner.

Raydor was taken aback, but Provenza actually patted her arm. "Like I said, Captain. Flynn's a total asshole when he's drunk. Pay him no mind. He's just trying to rattle your cage."

"And you can go to hell twice, old man."

"Once is enough, thanks. And if you don't shut up, I'm gonna beat the shit out of you while you're too out of it to fight back."

A snort came from the chair, which turned into a snore. Provenza sighed in relief. "He's finally passed out. Took him long enough."

"Are you sure you want to stay with him when he's like this?" Raydor asked Provenza.

"Want to? Not really. But somebody needs to be here."

"And what am I going to tell the squad?"

"The truth. Don't cover for him. But obviously, it doesn't go out of the department."

"Obviously. I should just say Lieutenant Flynn had a – a relapse?"

"Yep. They'll understand. They know him. Tell them he's going to rehab. I can tell you that once he dries out, he'll want to apologize to them. Probably to you, too."

Sharon shook her head. "Alcohol cost my husband his career. I don't want it to cost Lieutenant Flynn his."

"Not as long as I'm breathing, it won't," Provenza said.

"I remember now why I quit drinking," Andy said to Provenza, after throwing up for the fourth time since he woke up.

"Yeah. Gatorade's on the counter, along with Tylenol and aspirin," Provenza replied, looking over at his friend, crossword puzzle book in hand.

"Thanks. I guess I had to learn all over again why I quit." Andy went to the kitchen and drank the Gatorade, and took two Tylenol and an aspirin for good measure.

"You're willing to go to the rehab, right?"

Andy once again collapsed in his recliner, a wet washcloth over his eyes. "Yeah. I guess I need to. I had some crazy-ass dream that I hit on Raydor. Can you believe it?"

"It wasn't a dream, Flynn. You did hit on her. Told her you would, and I quote, 'give her a night to remember.' After she took off the bitch armor, that is."

Flynn raised a corner of the washcloth and peered at Provenza. "Are you freaking kidding me? Oh, God. Now I have to make amends to Raydor. I didn't even leave the house this time, and still managed to get myself in deep shit. Why don't I remember the trouble I get into when I drink?" He replaced the cloth and lay back in his recliner.

"Get some sleep, Flynn. You leave for rehab at eight in the morning."

Sharon had managed to inch up in getting more respect from her squad when they found she wasn't reporting Andy's relapse, but was keeping quiet about it.

"I thought she had to report this kind of thing," Detective Amy Sykes said to Sanchez.

"Not necessarily. Lieutenant Flynn has 25 years on the force. He's been clean for over 15 years. It's the right thing to do."

"I see," Sykes replied.

"And Detective? If you want to stay in this squad, you'd better keep it quiet, too. This crew won't stand a snitch, and I guarantee Captain Raydor won't, either."

Sykes looked taken aback. It became clear to her that her loyalties had better align with her squad, and not with herself, or she wasn't going to be with them for very long. "Thanks for the tip, Detective," she answered.

"You're welcome," Julio said and turned back to his computer.

"My name is Andy and I'm an alcoholic."

"Hi Andy," came the chorus.

"I'd been sober for over 15 years until last week. Then, I decided a bottle of bourbon was going to solve my problems and let me sleep. Obviously, it didn't, because it never does, and here I am. I'm a police officer and I work murders. Most of the time, I leave it at my desk. But there was this one case back in the winter, right before Christmas... Anyway, a 19-year-old girl was killed by a drunk driver and I saw the accident, and was with her when she died there on the pavement." Andy paused to wipe his nose and he sniffed. "So, I called my sponsor. We talked about it – a lot. I went to meetings. I thought I was dealing with it, thought I was facing it, working it out, doing what I needed to do to stay sober. But I guess I wasn't dealing with it so much, after all. I started having nightmares about it. You know, those kind that just keep on even after you wake up, and then go back to sleep. And they kept on. I did keep calling my sponsor, going to meetings, reading the Big Book and everything about getting through trauma that I could get my hands on. But the nightmares wouldn't quit. I even saw our department shrink, and he gave me some pills to take. But they didn't help, either. Nothing did. So I went back to what always took the pain away, even for a night. And honestly, it did. Once a quarter of the bottle was gone, so was I, and I never dreamed once. And because I'm a drunk, I kept drinking it. My partner found me in my apartment, and I called him every name in the book and propositioned my superior officer. My very hot superior officer, I've gotta say, since I'm keeping it honest, here." Laughter followed this statement and Andy grinned ruefully.

"But today, I'm grateful to be here. I'm grateful that, by the grace of my Higher Power, I still have a job I love, and that I didn't completely screw up my life in three days. How I'm going to make amends to my captain, I have no idea, but I guess that's one day at a time, huh? So today, I'm sober. Today I won't take a drink. Today, I'm grateful." He sat down and the group chorused, "Thanks, Andy."

After the meeting, Andy's roommate shook his hand. "Appreciate your honesty, man. So is your captain a man or a woman?"

Andy grinned. "Very much a woman."

"What's she look like?"

"About 5'5, when she's not wearing those mile-high heels. Sort of auburn-brunette hair and green eyes. She's got a stare that can freeze your balls."

"Built?"

"Oh yeah. Well, I think so. She wears these power suits, but underneath, yeah. I'm thinking there's some kind of woman under all that. Tough as nails, real by-the-book officer."

His roommate chuckled. "So what did you tell her?"

"Told her if she'd take off the bitch armor, I'd give her a night to remember." Andy looked a little shamefaced, but his eyes were twinkling.

"Dude! You must've been loaded. That'll get your ass sued in this day and age!"

"Don't I know it? But she was willing to keep me on as long as I did my stint here."

"Sounds like a good boss."

"Maybe better than I thought," Andy replied.

"...And I picked up the bottle instead of calling my sponsor, which is what I should have done, and I am sorry. I'm sorry you all had to pick up my slack and that I let you all down. You should be able to count on me, but I let you down and I am sorry." Andy stood in the murder room as he made his amends to the Major Crimes crew.

"We're just glad you're O.K., Lieutenant," Sanchez replied.

"Thanks Julio. I appreciate that."

Raydor came into the room. She knew Flynn would rather make his apologies without her hovering. She respected that. "Good morning, everyone. Glad to have you back, Lieutenant Flynn. I think we've all got quite a bit of paperwork to do, so, unless something blows up, let's try to get caught up, shall we?" She went into her office.

"Paperwork. We don't do anything else these days," Provenza groused.

Flynn figured Captain Raydor would keep him chained to his desk for a couple of weeks at least, but every time the squad rolled out, he went with them, and did what he always did.

Raydor actually found Flynn intriguing. He had an outward bravado, a dark, cynical sense of humor and a rather black-and-white view of the world. But he also had a humility that caught her attention. Bravado aside, he was well aware of his faults, which must be a product of being in AA for so many years. And of course, a woman couldn't deny Flynn was a handsome devil. Occasionally, he'd get a look in those dark eyes that told her he appreciated her as a woman, and it never failed to make her heart skip just a tiny bit.

Flynn would never have admitted it to Provenza, who was still packing a grudge against their Captain, but he found himself liking Raydor. Her insistence on adhering to the book was occasionally annoying, but she wanted to catch the bad guys as much as Chief Johnson had. It was just that she had come to terms with making deals and getting them behind bars. Brenda wanted that confession, every time. He missed her some days. You never knew what she was going to say. It was a crying shame about her mother. He liked Willie Rae. And maybe she didn't do it by the book, but that piece of crap Philip Stroh was behind bars, right where he needed to be. She had a record unequaled in the LAPD, and according to Fritz, was happy doing what she was doing. He was happy for her.

Flynn stood up and stretched. It was time to go home, finally, and leave the paperwork behind. Raydor was leaving her office, and Flynn still needed to make proper amends to her. "Hey, Captain. You got any dinner plans?"

She looked a little startled. "No, not tonight. Why do you ask?"

"Thought you might want to get a bite to eat."

Sharon looked at Flynn, but his expression was only inquisitive. No ulterior motives there that she could read. "I suppose, Lieutenant." Well, that sounded graceless. "Yes, thank you. I'd like that," she amended with a smile.

"Great. I'll just get my coat and clock out."

Andy knew of a little Italian place that closed late, so he suggested they go there. The food was wonderful, Sharon thought, and the conversation wasn't bad, either. "It's a little daunting, finding myself in charge of a teenager again, I have to confess," she said.

"I was wondering why you weren't hurrying home to check on Rusty."

"Well, he's in the chess club and also in an after-school program that helps kids like him catch up on their classes, since he's been out of school for several months. He was pretty far behind."

"Sounds like he's trying to get it turned around. That's good, right?" Andy said.

"Well, yes. But I raised two teenagers. I know that can change in a heartbeat."

"One day at a time, Captain," Andy said, raising his glass. "And that reminds me. One reason I asked you to dinner was to thank you for keeping me in the department and for not telling anyone about this. And I have to make amends, too. I am so sorry. I let you and the squad down and I'm really sorry. I didn't deserve it that you were willing to work with me, but you were, and I'm grateful. Thank you."

Sharon smiled. "You're welcome, Andy. I didn't want to let you go, or reprimand you. And since you were willing to to take the necessary steps to get better, you gave yourself options. I appreciate that."

Andy nodded. "Options are always good. And I also really, really need to apologize for what I said to you. That was so high school it wasn't funny. I swear it was the bourbon talking."

Sharon wanted to look sternly at him, and she made the attempt, until a grin sneaked across her face and took over. "You know, Andy. I have to admit, I was angry when you said it, but then, well, I decided a woman my age takes her compliments where she can get them. Even from one of her lieutenants who's had entirely too much to drink."

Andy chuckled. "It's not right that you should have to wait for a drunk to tell you that you're a beautiful woman. Because you really are, Sharon. I know - you're my superior officer and all that jazz, but there's no denying it – you are hot."

A blush spread across Sharon's face. "Andy, really. You don't have to say that to spare my feelings or anything."

"Spare your feelings? Me? You know I don't do that." His grin was wolfish. "I'm just telling the truth. So what are you going to do with Rusty, anyway?"

She shrugged. "I have no idea. I don't think his mother wants to be found again, but I really don't know if I'm up to dealing with another teenager. Particularly one who's as streetwise as Rusty."

Andy pondered this. "Well, as long as she's been gone, you never know. And from what Rusty told me, she's a drunk. Probably a junkie, too. And you know she left him at the zoo? Dear God. You know, you have to have a license to fish, hunt, drive a car, and even cut hair, but not to procreate. That sucks."

Sharon gave him a grim smile. "That very thought has occurred to me numerous times over the years, never more so than now." She looked at her watch. "Andy, I really need to get back. Rusty will be home any minute, and I really don't dare leave him by himself for too long. I hate to say it, but I just don't trust him that much yet."

"Don't blame you. I remember being 16. For some boys, trouble just follows them around at that age. I used to tell Ma that it waited for me on the corner, jumped me and dragged me off." He grinned.

"I am not a bit surprised," Sharon replied.

In the parking lot, Andy turned to Sharon. "It's been fun, Captain. We'll have to do this again."

"Yes. That would be nice. It's good to have someone to talk to, occasionally. Do you think Provenza is ever going to accept me?"

"He'll come around. It may take a while, but he will." What impulse made him do it, he didn't know, but he trailed one finger down Sharon's cheek. "You know my number, Captain. If you need to talk, give me a call."

Sharon's mouth suddenly went dry, and she caught a faint whiff of Andy's cologne. "Th-thank you, Lieutenant. I'll remember that," she barely managed. Then, she made the mistake of looking into his dark eyes. They twinkled with mischief and Sharon had to give herself a mental shake. "Have a good evening, Andy." She got into her car.

"You too, Sharon," he answered and winked at her.

Sharon drove home, shivering. She made a mental list of everything she didn't like about Andy. He had a bad temper; he wanted to take shortcuts with regulations; he routinely intimidated suspects; he had been brought up numerous times for unnecessary force; he was obnoxious; he was accident-prone when he and Provenza got together. There was a long list, but the whole time, another part of Sharon's brain was listing Andy's good points: he was honest; he had a wicked sense of humor; he was dedicated to his job. And, her body reminded her, he was sexier than any man his age had a right to be. And he was an alcoholic. Cold water washed over Sharon when she remembered that one fact. Being married to one drunk was enough. She wasn't falling for another one.