As it turns out, I very much enjoyed writing Work With Me People. So much so that I've decided to try it again. Sorta. Let's just say that the Major Crimes department needs more office decorations. I took some liberties with this particular decoration since we really don't know what the trophy sitting on Provenza's desk says. Anyway, this will be a series of oneshots focused on season two this time. I might not do every episode, but I will try to do all the favorite characters.

This particular oneshot takes place one hour after Final Cut (2x01) ends.

The Trophy

Lieutenant Provenza

Provenza stared at his trophy.

He hated it. He hated it and everything it represented.

But he'd rather stare at it than the Captain who was trying to look unconcerned with the conversation Rios was having with Rusty. The blinds in the conference room were closed so he couldn't watch the kid. Neither could the Captain. But despite knowing she couldn't watch her foster son, she kept glancing at the closed blinds of the conference room.

It was driving him insane. It was bad enough the foolish boy had locked him out of the conference room, but watching the Captain try to hide her nervousness was even more nerve wrecking. Damn that woman.

He pulled his eyes away from the closed blinds and back to his trophy. He'd finished his final report already. There was nothing to do but wait for Rios to finish with the kid. It had been over an hour already. Everyone else had left.

He really hated the trophy. It was ugly.

What was it even? An oversized cup of some sort? Was he supposed to fill it with alcohol every night?

That didn't really sound like a bad idea. He could use it right about now.

Awarded to the Last Man on the Job Louie Provenza

The last man on the job. He smirked. He could just imagine if the Captain's trophy were to say that. The last man on the job. His smirk fell. Damn woman would probably take it in stride, just like everything else.

Rolling his eyes, he pushed himself away from the desk and the offending trophy. He was two steps away when he realized he'd left his jacket on the back of his chair. He marched purposefully into the Captain's office instead of retrieving the jacket. Let her think he'd left it at his desk on purpose.

His eyes went to the closed blinds on instinct.

With a muted grumble, he sat in front of the Captain's desk without preamble and made himself comfortable. Which meant slouching down in the chair.

"Something I can help you with, Lieutenant?" she asked politely, but with a raised eyebrow. As though she were actually busy instead of worrying herself sick over Rusty.

"Not unless you have a bottle of scotch in your desk drawer."

He watched her lean back in her chair. She didn't try to hide the movement of her head as her eyes lingered on the closed blinds. Her voice was soft and quiet when she spoke. "That would be against the rules, Lieutenant."

He rolled his eyes.

She turned her head back towards him and smirked.

He'd have to ask a psychologist one day why a bit of teasing eased anxiety.

"He asked you to keep me out."

It was a statement, so he saw no reason to reply.

"He asked you to stay out, too," she continued, thinking aloud.

This time he replied. "He didn't want you to know that he didn't want you in there." After a moment, he elaborated. "He doesn't think we'll like him if we know what he did when he was on his own."

She didn't say anything, but her gaze went back to the damn blinds. They were still closed. Damn Rios. And damn Taylor. And damn Raydor for that matter. When his eyes moved from the blinds back to the Captain, he had to blink. He tilted his head to the side, and his eyes narrowed. Were her eyes suddenly…wet?

He cleared his throat.

She blinked and looked back at him. The wetness must have been his imagination, he decided on second thought. He was relieved.

"You're the last man left on the job," she said, glancing at him briefly.

"Don't worry. When it's your turn, I'll make sure they amend it to "last woman."

She made a noise of amusement that he couldn't decipher. It wasn't a snort exactly. But a high pitched muted laughing sound that she made with her mouth closed. He didn't know if that was a good thing or not, but he would damn well make sure her trophy said the right thing when it was her turn.

"Rios is right."

It was his turn to make a noise now. Only the one he produced was of dismay. "Dear gods, don't tell her that. She's full of herself enough already."

"I have no intention of doing so, Lieutenant. Believe me."

She didn't elaborate and ignored his urging look. He sighed. Damn this woman. "What do you think she's right about?"

"I'm too close. I've become attached. I've lost my objectivity where Rusty is concerned."

"Haven't we all?"

"Why do you think I took him in, Lieutenant?"

This time he was the one who remained silent.

"A friend of mine said I took him in because I had "Empty Nest Syndrome." But I very much miss having an empty nest." She smirked. "There's something to be said about being able to take a bath without someone desperately needing your undivided attention."

"I can imagine." Mostly, because he remembered his first wife having that same complaint.

"I'm sure you've already figured out why I kept him."

She seemed to be waiting on him to say something. To elaborate. She was going to be waiting a while, though. It wasn't any of his business why she'd kept the kid. He could make a few guesses. She liked making sure things were done right. She liked finishing what she started. And during the whole Federal Lawsuit fiasco, she'd had the Chief's back more than anyone else had. Well, anyone else of higher rank than him. If they lost Rusty, it could put a serious dent in their case. And Sharon Raydor wasn't going to let Brenda Leigh Johnson's sacrifice be for nothing.

What had started out as a temporary solution to a problem she was determined to see through to the end had produced another "problem." Now she was attached. And the worst part was that the kid didn't even realize it. She loved Rusty like she loved her own children, yet she couldn't tell him because it would scare him off.

If it weren't so damn sad, it would be laughable.

He cleared his throat and his eyes left the closed blinds to find hers once again. "He'll be fine. He will be. He'll be just fine."

The Captain nodded and her eyes moved to the closed blinds. "If she calls him names again-"

"I'll swear she tripped and fell." He smiled at her even as her eyes moved to glare at him.

"Lieutenant."

He held his hands up in surrender. "All right. All right. Save the lecture for Rios."

"I'm taking him out for hamburgers when he's done." This time her eyes only briefly flashed to the blinds. "Would you like to come?"

His eyes moved back to meet hers again. She really needed to stop glancing at those blinds. It was driving him crazy. "Think he'll be up for eating?"

"He's a teenage boy, Lieutenant."

He snorted. "Right. It slipped my mind."

"All those years of experience finally catching up with you?" She smirked.

He glared at her. The damn blinds were still closed. "If I'm taking you and the kid out for burgers, then I expect a ride home."

She nodded seriously. "Deal."

He rolled his eyes.

She was impossible.

Thoughts? Questions? Comments? Concerns?

I'm hoping to have this whole thing wrapped up before the new season starts. We'll see how that goes.

I have a half formed plan as to how I want this series to go, but it's not set in stone and I made no promises. I'll continue to make no promises, but I'd love to hear your thoughts and suggestions. Any particular character whose thoughts you'd like to hear about a particular scene or episode?