a/n: It's been forever since I've written anything. And honestly, I have no clue where this one came from. All I know is that I kinda really love the idea of Provenza being a big 'ol 'softy. 'Cuz lets face, it do anything for the team.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Major Crimes.


Louie Provenza was not a softy. He wasn't! He was a grown man, had lived on his own and supported himself for decades. Had been a cop and been exposed to all the horrors of the world for almost just as long!

He didn't care what Patrice said, or anyone else! He wasn't a soft, sentimental, sap!

And he liked to think he showed that in every aspect of his life. He went to work where he barked out orders and handled a gun. He dealt with jackasses like Jackson Raydor on a daily basis. And he dealt even more frequently with Andrew Flynn's moods!

He had his beer and his baseball. He had his gun and his badge. He wasn't soft, and just because Patrice liked to tease him for one little thing he did-didn't mean he was!

Just because he kept stuff in his wallet (like any normal person), didn't give her the right to say he was getting soft in his 'old' age!

He wasn't weird, unlike some men, he didn't keep some never used, old condom in his wallet. Nor did he keep some 'lucky' coin, or anything like that.

No, he had a simple leather wallet. He'd bought it years ago, and it was beat-up as all get out, but he couldn't be bothered to buy a new one. It worked perfectly fine for him. It held his license, his cards, and whatever cash he had on him, just fine.

Simple, dirty, and frayed around the edges, it exemplified manliness. But, no, when Patrice dug into it to get a twenty to pay the pizza delivery boy-she had focus on what she wasn't suppose to see.

So what, if, in the deepest regions of the black folds, he kept some...pictures? He wasn't Tao, spreadin' 'em all around the place. He didn't keep a damn scrapbook in there! Only a few, and out of sight of any nosy snoopers!

One of the pictures he kept was one of his son. Sure things weren't great between them, but he was still his son. The picture was of his high school graduation. He wasn't in the picture, but that hardly mattered. It had been hell getting his hands on just that picture.

Another picture was one of the kid. Technically, Rusty wasn't his, but he way he figured, was that with the amount of crap he'd gone through with him and his mother-he might as well be. The picture, it was one of the many taken the night of his graduation party. The kid had ambushed him, slinging his arms around his neck and telling him to smile. Next thing he knew Buzz's camera was flashing in his face. It wasn't a really good picture, truly. The flash was too bright, Rusty had red-eyes, and his own smile was more of a grimace. But the kid was grinning, happy as a clam, and that meant everything.

He kept another one, tucked in behind those two. It was a fairly new picture, taken at the celebration the Captain had thrown for Buzz's new Reserve Officer status. It was one of the whole team together, gathered around Buzz, standing proudly in his new uniform. Everyone was smiling at the camera, proud and optimistic that they would get their Fourth of July Dodgers game.

And that Andy would get his date-that wasn't a date-with the woman that had him so mooney-eyed.

The next picture he kept, was one of his favorite ones of Patrice. It was probably the only artistically good picture he kept. For the life of him, he couldn't remember when or where it was taken. But she looked beautiful, like always.

He used to keep another picture, one of his dopey partner. They'd probably been in some smokey bar ages ago when it was taken, with the shadowy forms of people in the background and blonde bombshells lurking around. His partner was lounging in a corner booth, a smirk on his face, and his dark eyes seemingly shining with mischief. Despite his amusement shining through and the people surrounding him, there was a dark cloud of sadness and loneliness weighing heavily on him.

That picture was recently replaced by a different, newer one. The last one he kept, that tended to stay hidden away in the very back recesses of the black folds...

A while back they had gone to the beach, all of them. Meaning Tao and his family, Julio, Amy, Cooper, Buzz, he and Patrice, Rusty, Andy and the Captain. It was just after Thanksgiving bordering on Christmas, and they had been celebrating. Everyone said it was a late Thanksgiving meal that they deserved, but they all knew what they were really celebrating...

They were celebrating the fact that they were all still there. That they hadn't lost one of their own because of forces outside of their control. No one came right out and said it, but he knew what he was thankful for that 'Thanksgiving'.

Everyone had picnicked together, and gradually dispersed to their own devices. The kids had splashed in the water despite the dropping temperatures, some of the young adults had started a game of football, kites of all different shapes and sizes were being flown, and the rest were happily chattering away.

They were on one of the many wooden benches that littered the area. Her mane of red hair was blowing in the breeze and curling wildly from the salty ocean air. Instead of her usual power-suits and skyscraper heels, she was dressed casually for once. In worn blue jeans and soft furry boots, her look was complete by the big black men's jacket that swamped her.

She didn't seem to mind, though. Behind her glasses her green eyes were sparkling, and her beaming smile was sweet as it could be.

The Captain looked beautiful, of course. And the man she was directing it all at...

Andy was positively glowing. The Captain was tucked into his side, her small hand caressing the side of his face. He was looking down at her, saying something to her that made her smile like that.

In that moment, there was no burdens on his partner's shoulders. No loneliness or guilt, his brown eyes were shining like he had never seen before. You wouldn't even be able to tell that only a few weeks ago he had had life-threatening surgery.

For the first time since he had known him, Andy looked completely and utterly happy. He was practically preening under Sharon's affections.

They had been caught, lost in their own little bubble, completely oblivious to those surrounding them. They were happy. They were caught in a moment of carefree affection. They were in love.

...So he kept a few pictures in his wallet. Everyone did! And so what if he kept the picture Buzz had handed him that day at the beach?! He was just happy his idiot partner had finally got the girl and he didn't have to deal with the whole 'will they, won't they' anymore!

He was a manly-man, gruff, and hardcore! He spent his days confronted with the worst of the world. Horrors that left him drained, physically and mentally. And at the end of the day, when the dust had settled...

He kept those pictures to remind himself of why he'd do it all over again.


a/n: SO yeah...Shandy...but I couldn't help it!