He felt guilty being here.

He was asking Frank to do what he wasn't brave enough to do. To go back.

He didn't bother knocking or waiting for Francine to let him in. He had his own key, had done since hearing.

It wasn't anything formal, just the knowledge that when the job was threatening to get too much for him, he could go there and Frank would give him a fake fruit juice and let him bounce ideas off him. or if he didn't feel like talking, just let him sit there, on the red beanbag playing video games, no questions asked.

Normally he just barged straight in, knowing that the door was unlocked, but today something stopped him and he knocked.

"Anza." Frank flung open the door. He didn't look surprised, only hurt. Like he had done the first time Joe had done this, after the hearing.

"Might have known that Vallejo would send you."

"He doesn't know I'm here." He waited, just standing there until Frank apparently decided he was telling the truth and stepped to one side, letting him in.

"So what do you want, Anza?" He asked, sitting down by the game. Joe screwed his courage.

"I came to ask to come in on the shredder case."

Frank snorted. "Not going to happen. Vallejo_"

"This isn't about Vallejo." He forced himself to calm down. "There's something screwy about this case."
He waited. One, two...Frank got to his feet. "Alright Anza." He said, picking up two bottles with a lemon on the side and chucking one to Anza. "Let's hear what you remember."
Frank was the only person who knew that Anza had been a profiler himself before he transferred to X. He'd just come up to Joe's desk one day and stated it, while Vallejo was holed up with Calvin, the previous Junior Commissioner.

"That was some good work today."

Anza kept his eyes on the computer, filling in the report. He didn't want to talk to Frank, or to anyone really. Today had cut too close, reminding him why he had to be careful. It was too tempting to go down that route again.

"Only one question. How did you know the perp was going to be at the swings rather than the monkey bars?"

He knew. The shocking realisation made his heart beat faster, though he managed to keep it out of his voice.

"Lucky guess."

Frank snorted "Predicting where Daniels would run, that might be a lucky guess. Today..." He shook his head. "That was someone whose being trained to get inside a perp's head." Frank's eyes were cold. "You're a profiler."

"You've got the wrong guy." He picked up a folder and made to head for the filing cabinet, but Frank cut him off. "I've seen your file. Your Commissioner was very positive about you, but carefully avoided giving specifics."

Thank you White. He shrugged. "It was a big school and a big Safety Patrol."

"Not so big that your commissioner can't remember any of the cases you were involved with. Or look them up."

Anza pushed past him. Bishop called after him.

"I spoke to your old partner."

Scarlet. He froze.

"She was a little blunt with me, until I assured her I wasn't trying to get you into trouble. Just concerned." Frank was beside him now. "She told me what happened. About the hostage situation which went wrong. About what went down there."

If he closed his eyes, he could still see it. Still smell the sickening scent of soda in the air, still see Scarlet's fingers scratching blindly at the air, as she was loading into the ambulance, apologising, even though it wasn't her fault. See the nurse bandaging up the innocents, who were too close when the bomb went off.

"It wasn't your fault, Joseph." Bishop's hand was on his shoulder. "You were just trying to help. To get that kid out."

"I Should have known better." Anza's voice was bitter. "Should have waited for the guys from Central."

"Scarlet doesn't blame you."

"She should." He slammed the filing cabinet door. "She was a rookie. I was supposed to protect her."

"I said I'd try and get her to call you."

"Not going to happen."

Frank had the sense to recognise a battle he couldn't win.

"o.k." he paused head on one side. "It was good move, changing the s to a z. The sort of error an over stretch administrator might make."

Joe found himself smiling. "That's what it was, initially. I always meant to correct it, but..."

"But being the patrol's profiler doesn't leave much time for academic battles." They both laughed, confusing Vallejo, who'd just come out of the office.

They'd become friends after that, though no one would have known it.

Few, including Vallejo were interested in profiling, besides the obvious results.

Profilers were trained to get inside of perps, but you had to be careful you didn't get lost in there. The balance between the two led to most profilers being isolated, even from their partners.

Unfortunately, few patrol could afford the time and sorting needed to train two profilers, meaning most worked isolation.

Which was possibly why Profilers accounted for 68% of all Safety Patrol breakdowns. A statistic the counsellor White had given him the name of, after he took his badge, had given him.

"Nothing would make me happier than giving this back to you, Joe." White learnt over, his brown eyes staring into Anza's own, as he pulled the orange fluorescent slash and the gold plated badge back towards him and put them in the safe. "But at the moment you're a risk to yourself and to the force. Get some help. Please." He shoved the card into Joe's hand. "For Scarlet's sake, if not for your own." Though the blinds Joe could see Scarlet watching nervously, the red marks still visible around her eyes, even though the hospital reassured them that the burns had been superficial.

He was grateful to White, for that and for his lies. When even he hadn't cared what happened to him, White had still had his back. And when he wanted to rejoin the patrol, White had emphasised his successes, with out mentioning his failure.

But even White's counsellor couldn't convince him to start Profiling again. He couldn't go back there. Couldn't be that alone again.

Frank and Vallejo always seemed the exception, until you actually dug below the surface. Then Vallejo had been pulling away from Frank, even before the Gazpacho incident. Frank had been confused by it, and responded by working harder, making the estrangement, as Vallejo tried to set himself up independently in readiness for Calvin 's graduation, worse.

Vallejo was a good partner, but he was also ambitious. Being partners with a profiler made it difficult to get credit. Rationally, both Joe and Frank understood that was the reason for him striking out alone, going after perps without Frank. But rational kinda broke down where feelings were involved.

"The Perp started with Origami, before plain paper sheets. That suggests that this isn't a thrill shredder, working his way up to the ultimate. This is someone with a reason." Frank nodded, head on one side. Joe smiled to himself. He'd been a good profiler, he admitted that, but Frank was the best.

"There's no obvious connection between the victims, but it's being less than 24 hours and Students at X do tend to belong to a lot of extra curricular activities, so tracking them down can take a while.

"The first victim was female, so that suggest that the perp is too, though it's not a hard and fast rule." Frank nodded, taking a sip of his juice. It was one area they disagreed on.

"The shreds in the Gina Abbots case were to the right to left, but in Lorenzo's case it was left to right." He paused. "That suggest the perp is ambidextrous, or we're dealing with a copy cat."

"So what's screwy?"

Joe sighed. It sounded so weak when said out loud. "Gina is right handed. You could tell that from the folds on the Origami. Lorenzo is left handed. When I offered him the pen, he took with his left hand instinctively."

"You think they shred their own projects?"

Joe shrugged, embarrassed. "There's nothing to obvious to suggest that." He said, slowly. "I did mention to Tehama that shredding your project is a good way to avoid a failing grade, but there was nothing to suggest it, and it was really their projects that were shredded, but..." He let it trail off. Frank was a profiler, he understood about 90% was gut.

"So why you want me?" Frank asked, moving over to the games console. "Just do what you usually do. Drop Fillmore and Third enough hints until they figure it out for themselves."

"Because..." There was a lot he wanted to say, Because I'm good, but I'm not you, because Vallejo needs you back on the force, because if I do this, then the others will wise up, Tehama's already looking at me strangely, but he knew it wouldn't do any good, so he went for the reason that he knew might. "Because while Fillmore and Third are figuring out those clues, other kids will get hurt. Either because of the Shredder, because we get a copy cat on our hands or because all our resources are going to be plugged into this case. But mostly, because what ever you said to Fillmore and Third, you are involved. You're curious."
"Bullshit."

"Really?" Joe was on his feet, staring at the other man. "Tell me that you won't be at the science fair tomorrow if only to see that Fillmore and Third took your hint? Tell me you don't still turn automatically when a kid cries or you see a flash of orange? Tell that you didn't give Fillmore and Third that clue, cause you worried about those kids getting hurt? Tell me I've got one bit of that wrong, and I'll never bring it up again!" He was shouting, he realised that as there was a knock on the door.

"Frank is everything alright?"
Francine. Joe got to his feet. "I'll see you tomorrow, Frank." He said, carefully side stepping around the younger girl. "I've got the stake out."

TBC (?)