Chapter One: Setting the Scene.

Let me set the scene for you. Five team members toast their most recent success with bottles of cool water on the boiling hot LA June, not yet off duty enough to celebrate with alcohol and a hockey game. The boss looked on as his partner splashed their junior agent with her water, scolding him for the snide comment that he had just thrown her way. He laughed, knowing that everything was normal, along with his most senior agent, and his ex-girlfriend, who both preferred to drink their water rather than throw it at their colleagues.

"Yo Colb, looking a bit wet there." Don chided good-temperedly from the sidelines, and his junior agent stuck out his tongue in a less than mature gesture. Megan laughed, and ruffled Colby's now wet hair with a fond expression. She had just turned around when he got her back, trickling his own mineral water down the back of her neck. Shrieking with surprise and annoyance, she twisted away and nearly fell over, causing her colleagues to laugh harder. Despite her apparent formal and professional appearance, she and the ex-military man were quite the double act."Hey Don, we're going out for a beer later. Barno's. Up for tagging along?"

"Sounds good. I just need to finish up the paperwork. You guys thought that you had it bad, but seriously. Try being the boss. I have to sign off on almost everything that you guys do, write and say." Liz patted him on the back, sympathetically.

"Sucker." Megan joked, and Don glared at her.

"Watch it Reeves." She grinned, and sat down next to Colby, who was looking altogether quite happy, his tongue lolling out like a Labrador's in the LA heat. "After that, sure. I'll meet you there." David nodded, catching his point. Don't wait up lest the paperwork get the better of him.

"What's Lieve doing here?" Liz suddenly asked, with her eyes fixed on the elevator and a curious expression on her face. "He's Internal Affairs." The team's attention turned from their dinner plans to the three agents approaching them; two male agents and one female, all dressed in black. Agent Auguste Lieve was in the lead, and as far as Don could tell, he was heading straight for them.

Don pushed himself off from where he was leaning against his desk, to meet Lieve. The other agent had two inches on Don, yet Agent Eppes still towered over him. The woman, a pretty African-American female with intensely curly hair and a harsh LA clip, spoke instead of Lieve, and their remaining colleague appeared to size up the team.

"Agent Eppes?" Don nodded, very suspicious. He had worked with Lieve before on certain cases pertaining to policing the police, and they were on a firmly first name basis. Which meant that he and his agents were there for business. Which in turn, meant something much more sinister.

"Who's asking?" The woman brought out a badge, as did the agent behind her. Lieve didn't bother.

"Agents Betancourt, Lieve and Miller, Internal Affairs department. Agent Eppes, could we speak in private?" She was polite, but there was a certain nastiness in her tone which told him what she thought of him. He wondered briefly where she was getting her intel from. And extensively what intel she actually had.

"What's this about?" Don asked. Something was wrong here, he could feel it. He wasn't going with these people unless he knew what it was. "Why's Internal Affairs wanting to talk to me? Auguste?" His speech was directed at Lieve, who had the audacity to keep eye contact, but say nothing. Agent Betancourt, the woman, looked surprised that Don had referred to Lieve as 'Auguste', but she said nothing.

"Agent Eppes, we will explain everything if you will just come with us." Curiosity mounting, Don slowly walked towards Betancourt, letting himself get very close before veering off to the side, which was a known intimidation technique. Despite his predicament, he was impressed by how little she shied away, and the intensity with which she stared straight back at him. This was the moment that he learned Nikki Betancourt was not one to back down against anyone.

Lieve led Don and Nikki to the elevator, leaving Agent Miller next to Don's team. He immediately moved towards Don's desk, and when his progress was blocked, he produced what looked suspiciously like a search warrant. When Megan demanded to see it, she was disappointed and confused to see that it was. What was going on? Why was Internal Affairs looking through Don Eppes' desk?

Don noted how the agents stood on either side of him, securely, and how they had waited for an empty elevator. They were being subtle, to the point of ignorable to most agents, but there was no doubt about the predicament that Don found himself in. He was under arrest, and God knows where Internal Affairs were taking him.

Megan and the team watched as Miller carefully picked through Don's desk, taking care not to touch anything without latex gloves and placing everything back where he had put them. Miller had not said one word since he had got there, even when he showed them the warrant; he managed to convey what he needed to say through the raise of his eyebrows.

"Aren't you going to tell us what's going on?" Colby and David were interrogating him, pacing around the workstation in concentric circles in opposite directions, attempting for their formation to throw Miller off guard. However, the stoic agent didn't even blink, and nor did he reply, he merely continued his work in a comfortable silence. Even Megan the profiler couldn't see anything on this man. "Is he under arrest? For what?" Miller artfully ignored them both, and leant over the keyboard, typing an override password into the computer. Liz and Megan traded looks. Don was in trouble if they were looking into his authorisation codes, and clock-ins. They just wondered what on earth was going on, and hoping that their boss, and their friend, wasn't as guilty as Agents Miller, Lieve and Betancourt thought that he was.

Soon after Liz and Megan had retired to their own respective workstations, the boys joined them, looking put out that their technique of interrogation had failed. It was one of their most successful, and Miller was the first one who hadn't even blinked at their blatant intimidation attempt.

"He's trained. I'd say military, by the way he holds himself." Colby informed them, and David nodded in agreement. Colby knows these things. "There's no way that we're getting anything out of him." Megan looked at the search warrant, which Miller was lenient enough to let her read over while he searched through Don's personal belongings.

"It says here that Don's been detained on the charge of accused murder. Which means, to get a warrant, they must have some seriously solid evidence. Especially to arrest an agent, without even talking to him first about it." Megan interpreted the words on the paper, her face twisted into a wry grimace. "This is messed up. There's no way that Don's killed anyone."

"And even if he did," Colby cut in, reading the warrant over Megan's shoulder. "He wouldn't have stabbed them. Everyone knows that is the most unreliable way to kill someone." The team stared at him, and he looked almost apologetic for his words, but did not regret them. It was true. "I don't believe that Don could do this to anyone, but I think we had better get all the facts before we testify in his defence." Megan shook her head.

"He couldn't do this. How could you say that, Colby?" Colby shook his head, his expression dire.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss his guilt. I've seen mistakes made which are far worse, happen to good men. To learn from your mistakes, you have to make them first." Megan shook her head again, refusing to acknowledge what Colby was saying, and the light-hearted atmosphere between them was replaced with crackling tension. She pushed out of their huddle and strode over to the war room, but none of the others followed. Liz and David glanced between the two other agents. They didn't know who was right, or who they believed. All they knew was that they needed to find the truth. Opinions be damned.

Agents Eppes, Betancourt and Lieve exited the elevator on the third floor. They didn't break their formation (Don in the middle with Betancourt and Lieve on either side like bodyguards) until they reached the small, cold interrogation room, on the other side of the Internal Affairs bullpen. Don was uncomfortable, and embarrassed as all of the agents on the floor watched them go past. They no doubt thought he had done something wrong. What had he done wrong?

"Have a seat, Agent Eppes." Lieve pulled out the chair for him, but Don did not move. Betancourt closed the door behind them, and came up as close as possible behind Don without actually touching him.

"That wasn't a question, Eppes." Don didn't miss the warning look that Lieve shot his partner, but chose to play along for now. But if they didn't stop bullshitting and finally speak what was on their minds, things would rapidly descend into chaos. He would make sure of it. He sat down, and leant back in his chair, keeping Betancourt in his sights. Her deadpan enthusiasm and cool approach intrigued him, and as did the way that her partner felt he had to control her actions, as though if he didn't, something bad would happen. He found himself wondering if Betancourt's approach worked with everyone. And if she had a boyfriend.

"Have a drink of water." Lieve poured him a glass, from a bottle he had snagged from his workstation on the way past. "As I'm sure you've noticed, Agent Eppes, you are being detained."

"For what?" Don prompted, truly confused. He hadn't done anything out rightly illegal in... Ever. Certainly nothing that warranted Internal Affairs to investigate. "I haven't done anything wrong." Lieve sat down across from Don, and opened the file in front of him. Don's eyes kept darting to the female agent lounging against the wall, just in his peripheral vision. Despite Lieve's reputation, gruff appearance and status at the FBI, Don was warier of Betancourt. Maybe because he wasn't on first name terms with her when they arrested him.

Lieve pushed a large printout photo across the solid metal table towards the other agent, and watched him carefully, trying to gauge his reaction. The picture depicted a woman, her face obscured by blood, bruises, blond hair and shadows, her body twisted in such a way that no photographer could make her look human again. The image was grotesque, sickening even. Don showed no discernable reaction, even though his stomach twisted upon seeing it.

"Is this one of my cases?" He asked, bluntly. "Or is this someone that you think I've killed?" The last part was meant as a half joke, even though the situation was far from humorous. Lieve watched him, somewhat like a man who was about to drop a bomb on a hospital.

"Do you recognise this woman?" Betancourt asked, taking him slightly off guard. Don shook his head.

"No, but I can't be certain. It's not exactly a head-on shot." If Lieve was going to be an ass, then so was he. "Seriously Auguste, just tell me what you think I've done and we can clear this all up." His words seemed to aggravate Betancourt, who strode forwards, rounding the table and leaning on it, next to Lieve.

"This isn't about clearing anything up, Eppes. If there's a problem, we screw the guy responsible, not make it go away quietly." The words 'oh shit' came to mind. They had him on tape, with a misunderstanding. Those killed in a courtroom.

"That's not what I meant, Agent Betancourt. I meant that I haven't done anything wrong. So tell me what's going on, and we can find out who has." Her eyes were big and beautiful as she regarded him mistrustfully.

"The victim's name is Bethany Jenkins." That was all she needed to say to knock him on his ass. Lieve immediately glared at her; he was clearly working up to that. Don's eyes widened, and he broke contact, leaning back in his chair. Even though he hadn't planned on it, he took a long drink from the water in front of him. He needed it to clear his head.

"Are you sure?" Betancourt felt like replying like she did to all criminals; short and sassy, to knock them back another few steps. But she didn't. There was something about this agent which she didn't feel right about. Sure, maybe he was lying and he knew that Jenkins was dead because he was the one who raped, killed and brutalised her body, but maybe, just maybe, the shock was real. Maybe he was innocent after all. So instead, she just nodded solemnly.

"She was found about a week ago in a hotel downtown. Not too far from your apartment, as it happens." She said this softly, without the aforementioned harshness in her tone. Eppes took another swig of the water, and immediately wished that it was something stronger. He began to feel dizzy, and his heartbeat accelerated at an alarming rate. He experienced a wave of nausea and held back the bile rising in his throat. Sickness could wait.

"And you think that I... that I could do this to her?" He asked, and he sounded so broken that Nikki found she could not formulate a reply. Lieve noted her hesitation, and internally frowned at it, before replying instead of her.

"It's not a question whether we think you could. We know you could. You're a Special Agent, one whose reputation precedes you. You have several commendations, and you most certainly were capable of overpowering a five foot four woman with no defence training. It's a question on whether you would." Lieve's voice was deep and level, while Eppes', when he spoke, was shaking, though determined.

"Well I wouldn't. I... I couldn't." Betancourt felt sick herself, watching the agent cradle his head in his hands, clearly trying to overcome the sickness washing through him. She saw him swallow, and regain half of a shred of his former composure. "You wouldn't have brought me here unless you had a good reason though." He bit his lip, afraid of his own words. "Unless you have enough to convict me." Lieve sighed, and rubbed his brow.

"We found your DNA and fingerprints all over the crime scene. Statements from neighbouring hotel rooms state that they heard Bethany having a fight with a man the night before she was found." Lieve cocked his head to the side, and watched Don carefully. "Can you tell me what you were doing last Tuesday night, Agent Eppes?" Don stared at him for a moment, then his eyes unfocussed. His head was blurry; he couldn't think straight. Swallowing again, he forced himself to rerun the night in question...

"I came home from work at ten. Late lead. I watched some TV, and then I fell asleep on my couch."

"What time was this and can anyone verify it?"

"My partner can verify what time I went home, she was running the lead with me."

"Is there anyone except Megan Reeves who can verify your story?" Lieve asked, and was ready for the storm that it brought. Suddenly, inexplicably, Don felt rage everywhere, blinding his judgement and his senses. Red hot static screen leapt in front of his eyes as he stood too fast, throwing his chair back in frustration. Betancourt jumped, but Lieve appeared to be waiting for his outbreak.

"Yeah, about ten other agents who were on scene!"

"Agents who work with you a lot?" He asked, calmly as ever, which only infuriated Don further.

"What?" Don's brow was furrowed in anger and confusion. Was he seriously implying what he thought he was implying?

"Agents who you know well?"

"Fuck." Don shook his head, unwilling to believe that Lieve was saying what he was. "Fuck you Lieve. My agents are good people. Yeah, they're loyal to me, but they wouldn't lie to you. I mean Jesus, Auguste! They're FBI agents!" Lieve wrote something neatly in his notes, and the stillness which he did so with aggravated Don even more.

"Agent Eppes, is there anyone who could account for you once you were home? A girlfriend perhaps; or a neighbour?" Don shook his head, his legs shaking. Betancourt seemed to notice, and he was grateful as she retrieved his chair from the other side of the room where it had slid, due to his rage-induced strength. Surprised that she was so obediently doing so, but grateful. He sat down again, and cradled his head in his hands.

"No. There was no one there."

"So you thought that you would just go and catch up with your ex-wife. Just while she was in town."

"I didn't know that she was in town. I thought she was still in Nevada."

"We found a message on your answering machine. Which you could have easily heard and followed up on."

"I didn't hear any... you've been to my apartment?" Don was barely able to control the rage again. "You-"

"We had a warrant and considerable means." He said, firmly, his expression stoic. "And we found something, didn't we? You often take such gambles with suspects." Don rubbed his head frantically, trying to clear it, but something just kept jumbling his thoughts up again. If anything, his head was becoming fuzzier. One thought was undistinguishable from another. Had he known that Bethany was in town? Had he heard that message on the answering machine? Had anything else happened last night before he passed out on his couch, completely catatonic from alcohol consumption on Tuesday night?

"I don't think that you know what you're saying." Don stared at the crime scene photos again, unable to breathe when he thought of the woman that he now knew them to be. No matter what Lieve believed, he couldn't have done this.

"We know exactly what we're saying." Even in his state of shock, Don could tell that Agent Betancourt wasn't even sure that she agreed with her partner. But, she was obediently silent, and watched him curiously. All of her earlier defiance and distaste vanished the moment that niggling feeling appeared, in the back of her mind, telling her that maybe, just maybe, this agent wasn't guilty after all. "We know what we are saying, and we're sure that it's right." Lieve hissed, and he leaned across the table, staring straight into Don's face. For the first time since he had entered the room, Don smiled.

"Do you seriously think that shit will work?" Lieve did not look pleased at Don's lack of reaction towards his intimidation technique. "I wrote that in the handbook, Lieve." It was a battle of the wills, with both men staring straight and true, neither one readable. "Don't pull this crap. I know that this looks bad, but you have to think about it. If I was to murder my ex-wife, I would do it in a way which I would never be caught. I've spent ten years watching murderers make mistakes that get them life in jail. Do you seriously think that I'd be stupid enough to make those same mistakes?" Lieve watched him calmly, though Nikki knew that her partner was shitting it. Their control in the interrogation was slipping, fast.

"Don, I know that you're a capable agent, and I know that you're well versed in these areas. So you know as well as I that murder is never the same when you do it. When the gun is in your hand, and your emotions are running wild and you just pull the trigger because it's the only thing you can think about to do. Then you realise what you have done. You run, you make all the mistakes that you've seen over the years, and maybe even more because the difference is that it's you. You're the murderer this time, and you're the one who makes the mistakes." Neither agent blinked or looked away for what to Nikki felt like an eternity.

"A knife." This visibly threw Lieve off guard, and Nikki cursed internally, knowing that they no longer had control in the room. They had known that Eppes was good, but this surprised even her. Lieve blinked, and Don nodded towards the open file in front of him, which he had glanced over while Lieve was talking to him, leaning back in his chair and adopting a defensive pose with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. "The file says that the murder weapon was a knife, not a gun." He did not look pleased that he had gained the upper hand. He merely glared stonily at Lieve until he sat back, closing the file. Nikki rounded the table, and stood so Don could just see her out of the corner of his eye.

"Don, that distinction isn't going to save you in court." Lieve spat, standing up curtly and holding his head high as he walked past Nikki. As soon as he knew that Lieve was no longer looking at him, Don turned his head and gazed at Agent Betancourt. Unlike when he looked at Lieve, he didn't glare. He just looked, not quite curious but not quite knowing what to think of her. The expression on his face didn't help with her indecision.

Following her partner away from the room, she leaned on her desk, watching the still figure in the room.

"I don't know, Auguste. I have a bad feeling about this one. He just seems so..." She held herself back from saying trustworthy because she didn't know how Lieve would respond. "What I'm saying is that we need to get our facts completely straight before we go arresting the wrong guy."

"He's the right guy, I know it." Lieve responded blankly, not even taking her comment into consideration. Nikki changed her tactic, knowing the only way that he was going to listen to her.

"Yeah, but he's also a really good agent. He's the head of a department, he has a great service file, and he's done ten years with the Bureau. If we push him too hard with too little evidence, AD Wright's going to make sure that we don't set foot in this building again." Now she was speaking his language. Lieve didn't look away from Don's form, seen contorted through the fuzzy glass of the interrogation window.

"Don't worry Nikki. We have enough to convict him." Unsure if this was what she wanted to hear or not, Nikki forced a smile and grabbed the papers on her desk.

"I'll go check out his alibi, and then we can go talk to his family." Lieve nodded.

"Call me when you're nearly done and I'll meet you at the car."