AN - Hello! Don't you guys hate it when lots of ideas are stuck in your head? Got about half a dozen new stories already, while struggling with the last chapter of Going Back. The titles in my profile got the same amount of votes, so I decided to go for a completely different one. You are still welcome to send a PM with your vote - maybe you can untie the tie. Well, here's the newest addition to my stories. Constructive criticism is always welcome (ten months ago, my English was a lot less fluent, compared to now, please, let me be even better) along with your always wonderful reviews and ideas. Let me know what you think about this one. Enjoy. /K.

When in Doubt

Sunday, 6.00 pm, Bay Ridge
"How's your case going, Danny?" Henry asked the oldest of his grandkids. Danny, still chewing on a big mouthful of pork chops, nodded and grabbed his glass.

"No ID's yet and we're still looking for the man that ran away. We've got a witness that puts him there, but it's like he just up and vanished into thin air," Danny replied, sounding somewhat irritated. He and Baez had caught the case of a double homicide in an alley in Hell's Kitchen. The victims, two men in the early thirties, were still unidentified. They were suspected to be eastern European, judging by the few tattoos they were sporting. Both of them had taken two bullets to the chest, but not a single weapon had been found at the scene, even though both of them had been packing. A third man had been seen fleeing the alley and had disappeared in the city.

"What happens, if you don't find the man that killed them, dad?" Sean asked from his corner of the table. Danny sighed, not needing to be reminded of the difficulty it was. They had nothing, no weapon, no motive, and not even the victim's identities. Narcotics didn't know the two guys and the organized crime hadn't seen them before or even heard about the shooting. He and Baez had squat and nothing but a witness, who saw a man run out of the alley and down the street.

"Nothing will happen, Sean," he replied, more frustrated than he intended.

"So the killer just gets away with it?" Jack asked and pushed his fork into another piece of meat, looking around the table, inquiringly.

"Boys, your dad is in a tough spot," Frank said when he put down his fork to put butter on the bread. "But not all crimes are solved and some people get away with what they do," the commissioner said and looked at his two grandsons.

"Solving murders, like this, is like a puzzle, where you can't see the pictures on the smaller pieces. It's all just like a blank canvas," Henry chipped in and reached for his glass of wine.

"I thought, that was why surveillance cameras were invented," Sean said in between mouthfuls. "So they could help the police solve the puzzles," he continued.

"That's right, Sean, but there were no cameras in this alley or just around. But it would sure help the case if there had been," Danny said and stabbed the broccoli into his mouth.

"What ever happened to god old detective work?" Erin asked, sounding a little offended. Danny put his fork down and sat up straighter, ready to argue with his sister.

"Yeah, don't you think people have a right to some privacy on the street instead of being watched every single step?" Nicky chimed in. "What? That's my opinion, Uncle Danny," she continued defensively when Danny shifted his irritated gaze to her. Erin glared at Danny for a moment, until he put his fork down.

"All right, say you are on your way home from a friend's place late in the evening. You are mugged in the street and there's no one else around you. Only solid evidence is the surveillance camera from across the street, which leads to the perp. Without that video, you would have squat and the perp would have never been found. He could mug tens of people and maybe even promote to killing someone," Danny said and pointed distantly with his knife.

"Broken windows, I get it, but it is kind of big brotherly, when someone is watching every move you make," Nicky admitted and shrugged.

"After walking the streets I'd have to agree with Danny on this one," Jamie said and shrugged.

"What? I thought you had some rationality left, Jamie," Erin said, astonished of her youngest brother's turn.

"Thank you," Danny said and swallowed another piece of meat.

"It's true," Jamie said, defending himself from Erin. "I mean, it is a public street anyway, and if you're not doing anything wrong, you shouldn't have to worry about it," he continued.

"Exactly what I think," Henry agreed.

"What happened to the good old days, Pops?" Frank asked and Henry shrugged.

"I thought, you were advocating the old slapper," Linda said and made the family chuckle.

"Big brotherly or not, the streets and everybody walking them are safer than they would be without the cameras," Henry said. "If anything, there should be more cameras," the oldest Reagan huffed.

"Gramps… people have the right to some privacy, whether it is walking down the street or in their own home," Erin exclaimed resentful.

"Erin, it's true," Danny said with a raised voice. "Crime rates would be lot higher, if those cameras weren't out there. And if they hadn't been there, some murderers would even walk free. You of all people should know that as well as I," he continued and all, but Erin, felt silent by his outburst.

"I know, Danny, but where's the limit?" she asked, clearly on edge by Danny's argument.

"Let's keep it civil," Frank interrupted them before they could utter any other words. The family went back to eating in silence.

"For the record, there's nothing wrong with the slapper," Henry grunted from the other end of the table.

"Pass the potatoes, please," Frank said as the last words.

Monday, 10.00 am, 12th precinct
Eddie and Jamie walked into the precinct, both of them with a firm grip on their not-so-fresh collar that reeked of alcohol. Their collar was a middle-aged man with grey hair, a good deal taller than Jamie but possible even scrawnier. They had been assigned the call only half an hour earlier and after a few minutes of trying to talk with him, the perp had pushed Jamie through a couple of tables, at an outside breakfast bar, before running down the street and into an alley. Eddie had followed suit and Jamie soon after, not far behind them. In the alley, Eddie had run into a civilian and both of them had tumbled to the ground with food scraps and garbage scattering around them. Jamie continued the pursuit and tackled the man a bit further down the alley.

"I'd still say that was your greatest bust yet," Jamie laughed when they turned into booking. Eddie responded with a strained smile, still trying hard not to let the smell affect her too much.

"Next time I'll remember my cape before I go dumpster bowling," she mumbled drily.

"Reagan, Janko," the man behind the counter greeted the two officers with a smile. His face cringed when the smell hit him. "What the hell is that smell?" he asked when he handed Jamie the clipboard and a pen.

"Eddie collided with a chef walking out the trash…" Jamie replied with a smile.

"Ugh, I think there might have been some old fish or tofu in there," Eddie complained deprecatingly and put the transparent bag, with their collar's personal belongings, on the counter.

"Drunk and disorderly, resisting arrest and assaulting a police officer," Jamie declared and handed back the clip board.

"I didn't do anything," the man protested with a heavy slur. The officer behind the counter looked over the paper work and then glanced at the man, skeptically.

"Sure you didn't. While we are at it, for the record, he's innocent," Eddie grunted sarcastically when another officer took a hold of the elder man's arm and led him away.

"Right, and I'm the queen of England," the officer responded with a chuckle. "Take care, you two… uhm, you might want to leave a few air fresheners in the car," he added as a second thought.

"Yeah, I think you need to take a shower as well. And change your uniform," Jamie stated and made sure to put some distance in between them when they walked out.

"Very funny, Reagan," Eddie replied wryly and pushed through the door to the locker room when they passed it. Jamie laughed and continued, hunting for air fresheners. Half an hour later, they walked back outside to their car. Eddie fresh out of the shower with a clean uniform on, the smell still stuck in her nose.

"Drunk at ten in the morning, on a Monday, must be a new record," Jamie said when Eddie pivoted into the passenger seat of the bad smelling squad car.

"Yeah, he must really hate Mondays," she agreed and whiffed the air in the car. Both of them said nothing, when they rolled down the windows to let the bad smell out. They took off and headed back to their designated district, when a message ticked in on Eddie's phone. "I'm really looking forward to my day off tomorrow," she said when she grabbed the phone out of her pocket and read it through, momentarily raising her eyebrows before slipping the phone back into her pocket.

"What's that about?" Jamie asked when he caught a glance of her before he turned right.

"Nothing… just an old friend of my mom's family," Eddie replied and looked out the window.

"12-David, be advised, domestic disturbance on 267 Tenth Avenue," dispatch reported over the radio.

"12-David, show us responding," Jamie replied and sped up. Eddie hit the lights and sirens as they rushed down the street.

Wednesday, 6.00 pm, West Village
"Eddie, come on, open up," Jamie called and knocked on the door again. He had been surprised and disappointed when he learned that Eddie had called in sick that morning. It had turned into worry, when she hadn't replied to any of his texts or returned his calls. Maybe he was a little bit concerned, but only because she would normally answer her phone. He knocked on the door again and took a step back when he heard the lock click and turn.

"What do you want, Reagan?" Eddie asked, looking tired and sounding frustrated, when she opened the door. Her hair was messy and even though she had bare feet and was wearing a tank top, she had a scarf wrapped around her neck.

"I came by to make sure you hadn't died of whatever sickness you've caught," Jamie replied, smirking at his hesitant partner.

"Sorry, my phone was off," Eddie said and propped up the scarf when she looked down for a moment.

"All day? Eddie…" Jamie began, his smile faltered, but Eddie cut him off.

"I'm fine, Reagan, nothing to worry about," she said hastily and couldn't look him in the eye. "I'll see you tomorrow, thanks for stopping by," she said and was about to close the door.

"What's that?" Jamie asked when he caught a glance of her bruised wrist. "What happened, Janko?" he asked stiffly and grabbed her elbow to examine the bruises, simultaneously with pushing the door more open. Eddie pulled her arm back after a few seconds and cupped her wrist.

"I told you, Reagan, it's nothing to worry about," she said again and grabbed the door so she could close it. Jamie's eyes lingered on her when she pulled the door closer.

"Is anyone in there with you, Eddie?" Jamie asked, lowering his voice. Eddie glanced over her shoulder for a second before turning back and shaking her head.

"Just go, Reagan, I'm fine," she said, now more irritated than before. "Please," she added and Jamie's brow furrowed in doubt and mistrust. Finally, without a word, he stepped back and let Eddie close the door. He looked at it for several moments before turning around and walking away with his hands in his pockets. It wasn't a 'no', and she clearly didn't want him there. But his concern didn't go away.

...

"Come on, Edit, please," the taller man begged and walked a step closer to her when she had closed the door. He ran a hand through his short, dirty blond hair and sighed resignedly. Eddie didn't budge but looked at him with loathing in her eyes, she didn't even notice the scar anymore, having been accustomed with since childhood. The man had an eye catching scar from his the corner of his left brow to the earlobe, ragged and pink.

"I'm not doing it," she said for the umpteenth time that night. Just like she had done the night before. She spoke quietly but firmly and pushed past him. "And if you ever hurt me again, I promise, I will haul your sorry ass down to the precinct and lock you up myself," she continued defiantly, pulling off the scarf and threw it on the table. The colorful bruises on her neck were a sharp contrast to her pale skin. It didn't hurt anymore, but it sure was visible. Jamie wouldn't let her hear the end of it tomorrow if he saw them. Just like he had done after her situation with Jake Singer. She had seen the worry in his eyes when she had talked with him just a few minutes earlier. It had pained her to just push him away like that.

"Edit…" the man tried again, his accent a bit more evident, but Eddie held up a hand in front of her, stopping him in his movement.

"Get the hell out of here," she only replied and pointed to the door. The man was silent and after a few moments he nodded, grabbed his jacket and rushed out through the door. Only then, Eddie let herself collapse on the couch pulling her legs up to her chest. She knew he would come back to try persuading her again, it was only a matter of time. Yesterday had gone a lot like today except he had given her the bruises on her wrist and her neck. When she had denied his request, he had grabbed her and pushed her to the wall, almost yelling at her to do it. Thankfully, he came to his senses and left, leaving Eddie alone and hurt in her apartment. She had considered calling her partner, just to hear his voice, but she knew he would rush over and at the moment, she didn't have the courage to face him. So this morning she had called in sick and every time Jamie's name flashed on the screen of her phone she had looked away with shame. Eddie blinked and realized she had been staring at the same spot on the wall for a few minutes. Impulsively, she grabbed her phone and texted her partner. 'Sorry, we'll talk tomorrow. I am okay. E.' She hesitated for a moment before hitting the send button.

...

Jamie was sitting in his car, outside the building he had just exited. He wasn't just about to leave his partner like that, whether she liked it or not. She probably wouldn't approve of him staking out her building, either. After only a few minutes, the front door opened and a tall man was walking out. He walked briskly, with a hoodie covering his face and hands in his pockets. He walked across the street and Jamie memorized the car he drove away in, make, model and plate. A few moments later, his phone ticked and he read the text from Eddie. Once again, he glanced up at the building before he decided to call in a favor.

"Reagan," Danny replied after a single call. Jamie looked up at the building again.

"Hey, Danny, am I interrupting?" Jamie asked.

"No, just catching up on some paperwork. Why do you ask, kid?" Danny replied, sounding thankful for the break. Jamie hesitated for a moment and Danny caught it. "What are you doing, Jamie?" he asked suspiciously and Jamie sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Nothing," Jamie replied, a little too quickly. "I was just wondering…" he continued and paused. Maybe this wasn't a good idea. He wasn't even sure it was related.

"Spit it out, already, before the sun sets," Danny said, mildly irritated.

"Can you run a plate for me… off the books," Jamie asked, rushing through the words. Now it was Danny's turn to be silent. He probably hadn't expected that.

"Yeah, sure," he replied after a beat.

"Mike, Golf, Queen, two, two, three. A grey Toyota Camry," Jamie said and he could hear Danny punching it in on his computer.

"I got nothing, kid. Let me try the plate alone," Danny said and Jamie could almost hear his brother's grunt of confusion. "The plates are supposed to be on a dark blue Ford Taurus… it was reported stolen Sunday morning from Midtown East," Danny said, puzzled. It wasn't unheard of, that people switched out the plates on cars, especially if the car was hot.

"Try the grey Camry, from '98, I think," Jamie said, now pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Hang on… stolen from Hell's Kitchen… five blocks from my crime scene," Danny went silent for a few moments. Jamie looked up at the building again, curious.

"Any connection?" Jamie asked, hoping for a negative.

"Where are you, kid? What did you see?" Danny asked, suddenly more agitated than earlier. Jamie couldn't even be sure if there had been anyone else in Eddie's apartment. Let alone what apartment the man had visited.

"Nothing, it's gone. A tall man was driving, that's all," Jamie finally said with a sigh.

"He didn't happen to be six-one, muscular, short haired and with a mark on the left side of his face?" Danny asked, trying to fish out any detail of his brother. Jamie replayed the memory of the man in his head.

"Height seems to fit, he was wearing baggy clothes but I guess he could be semi-athletic. I didn't see his face or hair, though," Jamie said afflicted and closed his eyes. "I don't know, Danny. I have to go. Thanks," he continued and ended the call before Danny could make an objection. He dropped the phone back into his pocket and started the car before rolling down the street and heading home.