Title

Shoot to Kill

Author

Sar'Kalu

Summary

AU. A messy explosion killing a man results in Detectives Reese and Crews being called onto the scene, but the Dursley family are hiding many more secrets then even the Detectives are betting on. Just who is James Evans and what is his connection to Roman Neviakov?

Rating

Rated T: mild language, some sexual content, mild violence.

Disclaimer

Harry Potter is the intellectual property of J.K Rowling, Bloomsbury Books and Warner Brothers Entertainment and their various affiliations; Life is the Intellectual property of the N.B.C and their affiliates; no monetary gain is received in the publishing of this fiction.


Chapter One

All-American Dreaming

The first they heard of the new case was an explosion in suburbia. The house, a white weatherboard nineteen fifties duplex, was smouldering when they got there. Foul play was suspected, which was why Crews and Reese were called in. The wife was fluttering uselessly outside, gabbling about a 'Vernon', her English accent making it that much harder to get a statement. Her son was in a nearby patrol car having gotten violent when assertions were made that the husband couldn't have survived the blast. The red eyes and dopy expression were what one might find on a druggie. Reese was unimpressed by the whole deal, her frustrated yelling at forensics as they hauled out their dead guy in a black body bag further traumatising the family. Crews ran long fingers along the taut skin of his apple but didn't take a bite when even Bobby Stark shot him an incredulous look. Eating at a crime scene smelling of barbecue was not a good look, even for an ex-con.

Eventually the story came out, the wife, Petunia, had been at the local Walmart shopping for a cocktail dress for the evenings do with her husband, Vernon. Dudley, the son, had been down the road smoking a joint with the local street gang and telling tall tales about his life in England where he was purportedly the biggest gun-toting gang leader in Surrey. Considering that most English thought that their American cousins couldn't tell you where Surrey was, Dudley had felt that it was a safe 'brag'. It was now getting him in a lot of trouble. Vernon had apparently been drinking scotch while watching the football, European football not American, while waiting for their nephew to come home. Apparently the nephew had been caught sneaking out after dark and was restricted to a six p.m. curfew each night.

All in all the family seemed the usual all-white, all 'American' family that you would expect from the suburbs. Reese couldn't care less and she was quick to snap up the investigation while Crews watched the wife and the son interact, their soft whispers about the 'freaky' nephew indicating a far darker secret hidden beneath plain sight. Further inquiries led to the revelation that the son and nephew were sixteen and that the family had moved to L.A not five months ago but had already integrated themselves into the neighbourhood. The wife, Petunia, apparently very good at getting people to spill their darkest secrets; if gossip was anything to go by and more than one neighbour commented on the nephews apparent vagrancy. Reese frowned at the comments, not one of the people they had interviewed had stated anything about Dudley being the vagrant, no it was all this 'Evans' character. Crews' thoughts were dragged from dark to darker as he listened to each neighbour complain about petty things about Evans, not one had a single good thing to say about the boy and Crews was reminded all too forcefully of his time in prison where the guards had preconceived notions about the 'cop killer convict'. It sounded as though Evans was in a similar boat.

Eventually directions were asked to Evans' day job, a scrap yard a few blocks away. Thanking the kindly older woman, Crews and Reese ducked into their car and pulled out. This case was turning stranger and stranger, first Vernon was blown sky high and then the nephew, Evans, was labelled as psychopathic and dangerous. Reese didn't know what to think and Crews wasn't talking of his suspicions, his light grey-blue eyes never once making contact with the dark brown orbs of his partner. Crews had no real evidence to back up his gut instinct and Reese wasn't exactly enamoured with him at the moment after his 'switch-a-roo' with Roman Neviakov six weeks ago. No, better play this one close to the chest, Crews thought darkly.

Pulling into the scrap yard, Crews unfolded himself from the car and followed Reese into the Site Managers office. The pale blue walls and plastic furniture made the entire office look cheap and nasty but the big beefy man dressed in a stained white shirt and ragged jeans hardly seemed to mind. His moon shaped face split into a hairy grin and bright blue eyes beamed from behind fragile looking reading glasses.

"Hello!" He greeted Reese enthusiastically, "names Hank Goddard. What can I do for you today, Detectives?"

Reese was taken aback, it wasn't every day you found jolly men in god-awful jobs and this one was jollier than most. She smiled stiffly. "We're looking for a Mr Evans?"

The Site Manager's eyebrows climbed skyward in surprise, "you want James?" He asked. "Why?"

Crews smiled slightly at the Manager's protectiveness for his men, suspecting that the hard questions were nothing more than concern and care for the men who worked under him. Whatever Evans' had done to earn such solidarity and friendship was enough to put him in Charlie Crews' good books. "We just want to speak to him." Crews soothed the bristling man.

Hank subsided under the weight of Crews' calming gaze and nodded. "Right; you better follow me then, James is a wily boy, gets himself into the strangest places."

Reese shot Crews an appreciative glance and at Goddard's words, turned to him in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"James doesn't like strangers; he's a bit jumpy. You know?" Hank explained looking more at Crews than Reese, having taken a shine to the red haired man. Reese hummed lightly, the words not taking on the darker meaning in her mind like they did in Crews'. Something was definitely not right.

Evans turned out to be a skinny kid with a shock of wild black hair and black plastic glasses. Wearing the same jeans and t-shit combo that his colleagues sported, James Evans looked every bit the blue-collar worker as he sat on a metal drum surrounded by his work mates, his feet hanging off the sides and barely brushing the ground. Hank strode towards his men; a bright grin on his face that Reese suspected was his natural expression as he waved to yet another overly friendly worker. Evans was fiddling with his shirt as he listened to one of his friends expound some point or other, a small smile twisting the corner of his mouth. Evans looked nothing like his cousin or aunt and Reese wondered where the family resemblance laid.

"James!" Hank hailed his favourite worker with a loud bellow, waving a meaty arm in the air wafting the smell of fresh and stale sweat to the two detectives. Reese wrinkled her nose in disgust while Crews was unperturbed.

Evans looked up at his boss, a shy smile breaking out before he caught sight of the two detectives beside the Site Manager. Crews watched as the kid took on 'rabbit in the head lights' expression and tensed in fright. Crews sighed at the sight, if he'd had any doubts about the kids treatment at the hands of his family, they'd now just been dispelled; even Reese was watching the kid in a curious sort of pity, her expression strangely compassionate for the fiery-tempered detective.

"Reese?"

"Yeah, Crews?"

"He's going to run," Crews predicted.

Hank turned to the detectives in surprise. "Why would James run?" Hank dismissed the idea even as he returned his gaze to the jumpy teen. "He's a good kid-"

Crews bolted the same moment that Evans did, both long-legged men clearing the metal drums behind the lounging workers in the same time it took for Hank Goddard to finish his second sentence. Reese cursed and spun around, taking an alternative route towards the car and firing up the engine. Throwing the cruiser into reverse, Reese spun the wheel and shot down the road, knowing that the kid would head to higher ground. Eyes intent on the road, Reese almost missed the kid clearing a tree and flinging himself across the road directly in her path. Spinning the car, Reese flung her door open and clipped the kids' right leg, sending the willowy teen to the ground. Crews was on Evans in less time it took Reese to cut the engine barely puffing from his jaunt through the scrubby park behind the scrap yard.

Rolling her eyes, Reese tugged the rear door open and Crews shoved the kid inside having discovered extensive bruising on the kid's ribs and back. The amount of scarring on Evans was more than indicative of the treatment he received at home and Crews was more than looking forward to sinking his teeth into Petunia and Dudley back at the station. The ride back to the L.A.P.D was spent in silence much to Reese's chagrin as she tried to entice her partner into answering just what had got him so coldly silent. Reese didn't appreciate being left in the dark about things that might affect their cases.

Crews was quick to exit the cruiser and pulled the teen with him, the skinny kid was his height but half his weight and Reese began to muster her own suspicions about the boy and his home life. Dark eyes watching her partner and the teen interact with Crews mostly going on about Zen and fruit. The kid looked like he was keeping up and even managing to put in his two cents worth all the while staring around him desperately in an attempt to find somewhere, anywhere to escape to. Crews was quick to kill that thought though as they strode through the bull pen and tossed the kid into Interrogation Room One to cool down.

Tidwell watched his two best detectives hold a short discussion outside the room where their suspect had just been stowed away like an afterthought. This case of theirs was pretty cut and dried, the wife had admitted to leaving the stove on while the son had admitted to lighting up a cigarette in his room before sneaking out and accidentally leaving it on. It was all circumstantial and more than a little suspect but no one had managed to find out anything more. But there were Crews and Danni- Detective Reese, arguing about the kid who Tidwell suspected was the missing nephew that Petunia was hysterically trying to find. Just what the duo had found out, Tidwell was uncertain, but was about to find out as they headed to the debriefing room with a stack of photos and papers. Looked like he was about to be briefed about everything.

Crews was leaning against the walls of the room and ignoring Reese who was still glaring at him, angry that he'd not told her about his suspicions back at the explosion site. Tidwell was watching them both with nervous eyes, clearly not willing to step in between yet another spat of theirs.

"Well, are you going to tell me what the hell is going on, or do I have to guess?" Tidwell demanded finally fed up with Danni sending Crews the stink eye. "What the hell is going on with this case? I've had Seever and Stark both tell me that you both ducked off in the middle of an investigation, you then turn up with a ratty arsed kid who looks like he's been dragged backwards through a fucking bush and now you're not talking to each other? Just what the hell has happened the past few hours?"

Crews shot the Captain a Look and Tidwell blinked. Crews looked… angry as hell. Like someone had murdered his puppy. In front of him. And possibly tortured it too. Tidwell winced; someone was gonna die and he would have to write up yet another report about Crews that make the crazy redhead seem slightly saner than he actually was.

"Crews thinks that the kids been abused," Reese said flatly still glaring at her partner.

Crews shot Reese a dark look of his own before ducking from the room with a blank expression apple in hand. Stark stuck his head in and looked as if he was about to question the phenomenon when Reese snarled a vile curse. Paling rapidly, both Tidwell and Stark swiftly vacated the premises and holed up in Tidwell's office. It was rare that the duo was out of synch but it did happen and it seemed to be happening more and more often. Reese had actually broken up with Tidwell over it, apparently feeling as though the Captain was taking Crews' side on everything. Only Seever seemed to break through the strange fugue that Reese and Crews had going on between them and Seever only managed that simply because Reese and Crews both agreed that the younger officer would make an amazing mayor. One of the few things they could agree on these days.

It took them nearly an hour but both Crews and Reese managed to cool down enough to interrogate the nervous kid. Evans was bouncing in his seat with the kind of energy you found in marines before they hit the road; it was the kind of energy that never let a person sit still for long and Crews was a bit surprised to see it in a teen. Even with Evans' suspected upbringing. Reese took the seat across from Evans as per their usual tactics and eyeballed the teen trying to throw him off guard. The tiny room was coloured off white and grey, everything plastic with no metal to be found. Crews hated interrogation, it reminded him of prison, and the only difference being that he could walk away from interrogation; he'd not walked away from prison until after twelve years.

Reese flicked open their case file and pulled out a few photographs and flicked them towards the jittery teen watching him carefully. Evans barely batted an eyelid at the devastation and only stilled at the sight of the large black body bag. Long elegant fingers ran the edge of the photo while stunningly green eyes glistened in unfeigned grief. The kid might be used to the sight of ruined buildings but even he stopped his infernal bouncing at the sight of a dead body.

"What happened, James?" Crews asked, breaking the silence and surprising the boy. "Why did you run?"

"Thought Uncle Vernon might have sent you," James muttered as he sniffled. "Who's wrapped in glad?"

Crews blinked. "What?"

"You know, the body bag, who in it?" James indicated the photograph his expression carefully blank now that he'd wiped away his tears.

"Vernon Dursley," Reese answered carefully, not entirely sure what to make of this kid who jumped between emotions like some kind of drunken sailor. "Can you tell us your relationship with Mr Dursley?"

James flicked his eyes between the two detectives carefully, looking at the way they stood or sat and shifted in his seat as if he wanted to run again. "Ain't got no relationship, not really. Uncle Vernon's a busy guy, you know? What happened?"

"We're still working that out." Crews answered his lightly coloured eyes staring at James with unnerving intensity. "Who hurt you James?"

James stiffened and lifted his chin, "no one."

"You're not lying to us are you James?" Reese asked carefully, not wanting to push the kid too hard.

"No one hurt me," James replied stubbornly not looking at Reese.

Crews crossed the room and slammed his hands on the table, looming over the kid threateningly. "You're lying, James," he continued in that implacable but calm voice he used when he was pursuing something that concerned him. Reese watched the pair cautiously, there was no need to traumatise the kid, but some answers would be nice. "You ran because you thought your uncle sent us, why would your uncle send the police after you James?"

James leant as far away from Crews as he could, his eyes a bit wild behind his thick glasses and he was trembling in fear. "I dunno," James muttered evading Crews' hard gaze. "Just said it doesn't have to make sense, does it?"

Crews smiled coldly, the lines around his mouth deepening while the laugh lines about his eyes stayed smooth. James shivered and tilted his face away. "You know what I think?"

James shook his head.

"I think your uncle roughs you up a bit, when you do something wrong or you annoy him." Crews stated as if he was revealing some big secret and to James, he was, if the terror bleeding through his expression was anything to go by. "Maybe your aunt joins in, maybe she doesn't; but I bet your cousin does."

James stiffened and straightened, fire filling his eyes. "You don't know what you're talking about!" He snapped angrily. "I'm no victim, alright? I get nothing done to me that anyone else does!"

Reese closed her eyes painfully, there it was, the admission that Crews had been angling for. The admission of abuse that would spin this case in a whole new direction; she opened her eyes to meet the strangely confused expression of Evans. Evans, the kid with messy black hair and hauntingly green eyes, who was so much smaller than he should be; the teen was far too skinny, how had no one picked up on it? Crews had settled back against his wall, looking oddly satisfied. Reese thought that the Zen mask had slipped enough to reveal the man beneath; a man who was hell bent on justice and truth and who wouldn't let anyone or anything stand in his way to revealing both.

"Yeah?" Crews was saying as he watched the sullen teen. "And what's that, James? A few bruises? A broken bone or two?" Hard grey eyes met stricken green. "But it's all good, yeah? Coz everyone gets a bit beat up now and then, right?"

James' jaw rippled with the force of his anger and frustration, he wanted to set Crews right but knew he'd said too much already. It was so easy to forget that Crews was a cop that he wanted Petunia and Dudley behind iron bars for his abuse and James wondered if the detectives in front of him were angling for Vernon's killer or for the justice that had been denied to him as a kid. Tears stung his eyes and for the millionth time James wanted to run and never return and going by the redheaded cops eyes, he completely understood even if he wasn't stopping. James cursed him.

"Come on James, you know we have them already; we're just wanting the rest of the tale. Seems no one has much good to say about you in your neighbourhood while overlooking Dudley's antics," Reese said blandly to the teen drawing his betrayed expression from Crews to her. It was heartbreaking to see. "So, you gonna tell us nice and easy or are we gonna have to drag this out?"

James stared between the two his mouth open in shock, he knew that there wasn't much choice; Reese and Crews were going to find out it would simply take time and gathering from their tag-teaming operation they had going they were damn good at it too. Anger burned briefly before petering out and swiftly turning to guilt and shame, Evans ducked his head and spilled.

Two hours later Crews came out with a hang-dog Reese at his side, the younger of the two not quite as perfect in her stony faced expression. The glares the duo aimed at the bull pen had many a police officer ducking for cover as Reese and Crews headed straight for Tidwells' office where the Captain and Stark were still holed up and clearly discussing case-work. Tidwell looked up as his two best detectives stalked into his office with blanked expression and barely managed to keep from cursing. Something big had happened in interrogation and Tidwell sure as hell wasn't gonna like it. Reese tossed the case file on the Captain's desk while Crews stopped Stark from leaving the room.

"You're gonna want to stay." Crews murmured to his old partner, Bobby shot the red headed detective an evaluating look before sinking back in his chair and watching the Captain read. It didn't take Tidwell long and he was soon passing the manila folder to Stark looking a hundred years older and sighing heavily.

"You guys sure this is correct?" Tidwell asked heavily his face lined.

Reese jerked her head in an approximation of a nod and Crews fiddled with something in his pocket. Neither was really up for discussing what they'd just heard. Tidwell sighed again and rubbed his face and met Stark's gaze. The father of two felt his eyes burning with repressed tears and rage as he trembled with suppressed need to burn all of those fuckers who laid a hand on the poor boy in interrogation one.

"This case is going to be working in tandem with Social Services," Tidwell determined and Reese nodded while Crews frowned.

"No." Crews denied, cutting across whatever else Tidwell was about to say. "Social Services aren't what the kid needs. He's sixteen, he's not gonna like or accept foster care this late in life. He'll do a runner."

Reese nodded slowly, clearly agreeing with her partner even if she didn't like it. "Crews is right."

"So what do you suggest then?" Tidwell demanded setting his fists on his hips and meeting Crews' bland expression. "That I give him to you?"

Crews nodded calmly, "I think I can keep a watch on him easily enough."

Even Reese shot the redheaded cop a stunned look, her mouth gaping in surprise. Tidwell was clearly against the idea even as Bobby enthused about it. Who better to take care of a kid who amounted to an ex-prisoner than Charlie Crews?

It took another ten minutes of fast talking including various mentions of the break throughs he'd had with Rachael Seybold and revealing that Ted Early and Olivia were coming home before Tidwell even made the slightest hint of acquiescing Crews' request. Finally, as they knew he would, Tidwell crumbled under the force of Crews' Zen mutterings if only to get the loopy bastard out of his office and away from him. Reese was quick to tail her partner as he headed to interrogation once again his face set into a determined expression; this latest case having split them apart and then bound them even tighter once again that even Tidwell, despite his reservations and lingering feelings, joined his employees in speculating just how long it would take for the pair to get together.

Crews burst into interrogation, Reese hard on his heels, and startled Evans into leaping the full length of the room before embarrassment sent the boys gaze skittering away from them. Reese's eyes darkened while Crews just bounced excitedly, the keys to James' cuffs jangling in his hands. Reese watched the pair with exasperated eyes as she listened to Crews expound on the wonders of orange growing while Evans listened almost eagerly. Maybe Crews would be good for the kid; Evans was certainly listening to him despite his traumatic experiences.

"So what's happening? Am I free to go?" Evans questioned as he followed the detectives out into the lobby.

Crews hummed non-committedly and smiled vaguely. "Letting go gives us freedom, and freedom is the only condition for happiness. If, in our heart, we still cling to anything - anger, anxiety, or possessions - we cannot be free."

James shot Crews a slightly weirded-out look and shrugged. "Whatever." He muttered and ducked his head as he elevator dinged loudly in the silence. The trio climbed in, two of which were studiously ignoring the third that was humming an unrecognisable tune.

Evans turned to Reese almost worriedly, "Is he alright, you know, in the head?"

Reese cast the boy an amused look, "you're only asking this now?" She asked him barely hiding her hilarity.

Evans scowled at her and crossed his arms, picture perfect of a sullen teenager. "I wasn't worried before."

Reese snorted and shrugged, "don't be, Crew is a bit odd but mostly harmless."

"They say that about humanity too and look at what they've done." Evans muttered and Reese stared at him in bewilderment. What?

Crews shot Reese a grin and bumped shoulders with Evans who staggered slightly. "You ever read that book, Reese?"

"Which book?" Reese asked completely confused.

"She doesn't look like she reads," James observed quietly.

"Reese reads," Crews objected. "Of course Reese reads!"

Reese sighed in aggravation and pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to ignore the resulting non-conversation that was occurring next to her. Honestly, it would just be like Crews to seek guardianship of a boy who was crazier than he was. Reese was openly happy when the elevator doors swung open and they could step out of the confined space that the two boys beside her had filled with meaningless chatter.

The woman at Social Services wasn't happy to see them, her cold blue eyes meeting Crews' grey with dark suspicion and Reese almost felt like pulling out her gun and unloading the clip right there and then. Regardless of who was watching. Thankfully Tidwell had the common sense to call ahead and had cleared everything before they'd gotten there, most of the paperwork having been shunted up to him and before long Crews was escorting a dazed Evans' to his car and guiding the boy into the passenger seat. Reese having split to her own car and agreed to meet up with Crews and Evans at Crews' mansion.

Evans was introspectively quiet the entire trip and Crews didn't break the silence as he listened to his favourite Zen tape for the fifth time that week. James didn't even comment at Crews' odd preoccupation and even seemed to enjoy the calming tones of the man's voice as he read something about how 'we are not going in circles, we are going upwards. The path is a spiral; we have already climbed many steps'. James liked that idea, that everything he had seen, done, suffered had a purpose, even if he didn't know that purpose just yet.

Evans barely blinked at Crews' mansion, his green eyes taking in the two storied, double winged building that was made of a yellowish sandstone, with deliberation. "Nice." Evans murmured sweeping the length of the empty drive; Reese having not yet arrived and Rachael still at college for the week.

"It's a house," Crews said simply looking at the mansion with a curious gaze.

Evans smiled slightly at that and almost chuckled. Crews really was something else, James thought to himself as he followed the redhead up the drive and into the entryway. It was pretty much empty inside, only a black leather couch and a high range TV occupying the space. A large staircase spiralled upstairs to where James assumed the bedrooms were. It was a nice place and for whatever reason, James could feel himself relaxing for the first time in his life as he took in the low-lit atmosphere and met Crew' eyes.

"It's kinda strange," James hesitated, he'd already told this man and his partner more about his life than anyone before; should he really continue? Crews was watching him expectantly though, so James took the leap of faith, feeling himself tumble through the metaphorical air uninhibited by blocks or catches. "I feel…" James paused and shot Crews a desperate look, frightened.

"Safe," Crews finished for the damaged teen in front of him not realising, or perhaps he did, that he'd just caught James from his tumbling free fall through space and now held him securely in his arms. James stared at the redheaded man and felt something inside him break; realising in a flash of shock and no small amount of fear that he trusted Charlie Crews explicitly and whole heartedly. No one had been able to inspire that feeling within him since he was eleven and the one he'd trusted then had shortly betrayed him for another. Could he trust Crews with himself? Should he?

Staring into kind grey eyes James Evans realised that yes, yes he really could and when Charlie smiled at him, James smiled back.

Entering Crews' now more than familiar entryway, her feet making barely any noise on the thick carpet that Rachael had determined that they absolutely 'needed' to liven the empty house up, Reese found Crews and Evans huddled at the island counter in the kitchen. Half full glasses of juice sat at their elbows as they discussed Crews' latest fad in wine growing. The orange grove where Crews had saved Reese was doing well enough now that it barely needed any management and the orange juice coming from the grove was quickly becoming locally famous. Evans clearly knew little about wine growing but the teen looked like he was having fun as he smiled hesitantly at Crews' absent minded teasing. Crews had always been good at putting people at their ease, Reese thought as she took in the tableau. It was good to see the damaged teen resting calmly beside the heavier detective, one foot hooked around the bar stool his head bent close to the papers on the table. Crews kept flicking his eyes from the paperwork to Evans' face, clearly delighting in the boys' obvious enthusiasm at their task.

After the whole 'Neviakov episode' Reese had found herself following Crews home most nights; revelling in the silence that she could find at the mansion and the kindness that she found when she spent time with Olivia and Ted. Crews too, managed to put her at ease, much as he was doing with Evans now in his ridiculously large and state of the art kitchen. And despite everything Reese knew that Crews could do, she felt safer with her crackpot partner than she ever had with Tidwell. Something she found hard to reconcile sometimes, disappearing those days that she felt she was growing too close to Crews and his friends only to return days later with tired eyes and stress lines about her mouth. Not once had Crews indicated his disapproval or unhappiness with this self-destructive habit of hers; simply pulling her indoors and sending her upstairs for a shower and a sleep. Crews attracted strays like the Rolling Stones collected fans, it was all completely incidental but he cared for each and every one of them and Reese found herself incredibly grateful to him.

Crews looked up once more, darting a swift look at Reese who was hovering at the edge of his periphery and then at James who was nervously biting his lip while concentrating on his latest 'money-making' venture. Ted would find the paperwork all filled out and on the kitchen counter tomorrow when he and Olivia visited for breakfast like they did every day. Crews sighed lightly, masking the sound from James who shot him a bright smile that lit his eyes with innocence and happiness. Between Reese who was like a ghost most days, drifting about without purpose and James who was pretty self-explanatory; Crews wondered just what he'd gotten himself into, could he really help them both recover from the disastrous events that had ruined their lives?

"What shall we have for dinner?" Crews murmured as he stood and stretched. Evans lent backwards, swaying out of reach of Crews' long arms as his expression flickering briefly before falling into lines of deep relief. "Shall we have pizza? I'd like some pizza, what do you think Reese, should we get pizza?"

Evans spun around and spotted Reese who hovered just outside the far-reaching light of the kitchen lamp. Crews reached around and flicked the switch to the ceiling light and flooded the room with brightness. Reese winced and slunk into the room, taking the seat beside James and mulishly staring at the counter. She felt off balance and Crews watched Reese and James exchange brief glances before turning to him as though he was the centre of their universe.

"Pizza sounds good." Reese finally shrugged, her eyes skating away from Crews' as she folded in on herself. It was so much harder to pretend that nothing affected her in the dark where the nightmares came alive and truly could hurt you.

James smiled shakily, any progress over the past hour having disappeared like ice on a hot summer's day, and nodded slowly.

"What was that James?" Crews prompted gently, smiling slightly. "I didn't hear you."

"Yeah, pizza sounds good," James said it softly and confusedly. Almost as though he wasn't really sure what he was agreeing to.

"Have you eaten pizza before, James?" Reese asked gently, her own troubles fading as she concentrated on the nervous kid beside her.

James shook his head and evaded Reese's probing eyes. "No ma'am."

"Danni," Reese corrected James quietly her voice the barest of whispers as Crews watched them.

"What?" Evans asked confused, forgetting his nervousness as he looked up and met her eyes.

"Call me Danni, not ma'am." Reese said.

"How come he gets to call you Danni, Reese?" Crews whined plaintively, pretending to be mortally wounded and drawing a wry grin from James.

"Because I like James," Reese rebutted swiftly a trace of her former fire lighting her eyes.

Crews grinned at his partner and pulled the laptop over from the far end of the counter, its black surface having blended in disturbingly well with the charcoal marble counter. Flicking the lid up, Crews frowned as he pressed the 'on' button with an unnecessary flourish. Reese rolled her eyes while James grinned at the red heads antics; Crews, for all his Zen, was remarkably dramatic at times.

"For someone who professes to be 'not attached' to his cars, computers and house, you sure own a lot of expensive things." Reese observed as her partner ordered their pizza's online with triumph.

Crews hummed and shot James a wink, "I might own a lot of expensive things Reese, but I am most definitely not attached to my car." James couldn't help it, he let out a small laugh at the ridiculousness of the argument and Crews shot Reese a broad grin. "Was that a laugh?" He asked her and Reese smirked triumphantly.

"I think it was," Reese agreed.

James blinked in surprise before rolling his eyes in picture perfect teen angst. "I laugh!" He objected plaintively. "But only when things are funny."

"Here that Reese? James thinks I'm funny," Crews snarked at the brunet detective, his grey eyes laughing.

"Clearly he doesn't know you too well," Reese grumbled. "You're annoying and Zen, not funny."

"Zen?" James asked.

Crews' eyes lit up with expectant pleasure before Reese quickly shot him down, "no, Crews, the kid does not need the Path to Zen explained to him, okay?"

Crews pouted but agreed.

The thirty minutes spent waiting for the pizza to be delivered was mostly silent with the occasional comment from James as he tried to integrate himself further in with the red headed detective while evading the dark eyes woman's pointed questions as she pried a little too close for comfort. Reese was growing frustrated with James' evasive answers; she was only trying to help but seemed to be freaking him out more. It was driving her nuts. The doorbell chiming had Crews jumping up in excitement and muttering loudly about the wonders of pizza. James watched the man leave with something akin to panic and only relaxed once Crews returned, barely visible behind the stack of pizza boxes in his hands.

"I think I may have gone overboard," Crews said casually winking at James who stared at the amount of food in front of him with wonder in his eyes.

James didn't need encouragement as he darted a hand forward and snapped up a thick slice of pepperoni. The explosion of meat, grease and cheese in his mouth was by far the best thing James had tasted since the treacle tart made by Ho- his boarding school in Scotland. James' mind shied away from thinking about that place, it wouldn't do well to dwell on things he couldn't have and he took another enormous bite from his pizza slice. Crews and Reese watched the teen with wide eyes, the kid might have been abused to an extreme point but at least his appetite hadn't been affected. Reese counted the teen to be on his third slice as she finished the crust on her first and she wondered if Crews had known that James would be this hungry.

Crews grinned as James made a delighted sound as he bit into a slice of Hawaiian; pineapple on pizza, worlds best invention. James met his eyes and grinned in return, snagging a second piece and Crews was quick to snatch his own, clearly it would be a race to see who could eat the most of the Hawaiian pizza. Reese rolled her eyes as the male bonding going on beside her and stuck to her own smaller vegetarian pizza, picking the mushrooms from the top with a wrinkled nose. James watched Reese removing her mushrooms and frowned, he felt that it was intensely wrong to waste food and was quick to pick up the left overs and shove them in his mouth. He grinned at the dumbfounded brunet and relaxed as she rolled her eyes yet again. Reese wouldn't hurt him, like Crews she was trustworthy. James smiled at the thought.

The after dinner silence was only broken when James let out a massive belch and froze in fear only to watch in shock as Reese burst into giggles. Crews sighed and rolled his eyes at their antics and packed up the empty pizza boxes. The boxes could be recycled tomorrow morning, it was late and he was tired. Ted might protest when he came in for breakfast but Crews was comfortable that the circumstances surrounding this one night of laziness could be forgiven. James sighed contentedly and sprawled across the counter blinking sleepily at the far wall. Reese had her head resting on her forearms and Crews watched her breathing gently before determining that she was awfully close to sleep.

"Come on kids, bedtime," Crews said bracingly clapping his hands once, startling James into an aborted movement. Grey eyes met green apologetically and a large hand gripped the boys shoulder slowly and carefully, long fingers flexing comfortingly. James felt his eyes and chest burn; it had been months since someone had touched him willingly. He'd almost forgotten what it felt like.

"Bedtime," Reese agreed with a slight to her words as she sleepily stood.

James mimicked Reese and felt himself be pulled tightly into the crook of Crews' arm as he swayed. It was pitch black outside with barely any stars to see in the night sky. Crews steered the teen through the heavily shadowed entryway, Reese following close behind. James both walked and hauled himself up the stairs, one hand gripping the banister tightly and using the smooth wood as a means of propulsion. Crews watched the kid with no small amount of amusement; each step was followed by a yank of his hands sending the teen stumbling upwards. Reese yawned and blearily shook her head as she reached the landing; she had no idea what had come over her but she was so very tired.

"'Night Charlie," Reese muttered scrubbing a hand over her face as she staggered into the room set aside for her use.

Crews smiled and half waved to Reese as she slipped into her room. James was blinking heavily and Crews steered the boy into a guest room. The cream walls looked bone white in the darkness; it was more than a little creepy to both the ex-con and teen. James stared at the massive king-size bed that took centre point in the room, the rich red bedspread bringing back haunting memories of nights at- NO! Don't think about it. Bitterly casting his eyes away, James smiled half-heartedly at Crews who, noticing the teens sudden sadness, frowned with concern.

"Do you not like it?" Crews asked quietly, "I suppose it looks a bit weird now, but it kinda nice. At least, that's what Rachael told me, she picked everything," Crews rambled disarmingly, knowing that James just needed to be distracted from every crazy thing that had occurred in the past twenty four hours. "I didn't pick it. I'm useless at colours, not like Ted."

James couldn't help but smile broadly at Crews' rambling explanation and sighed as he relaxed. "Its fine, it just reminds me-" He trailed off unwilling to continue. He would have to tell Crews one day, but not today.

"Okay," Crews said understanding that while James needed to talk, today was not the day when he would. "Well, goodnight. If you need me I'm just down the hall."

James stared after Crews as the detective backed out of his room that suddenly filled with looming dark and malicious shadows. Wide green eyes scanned the room for the danger he could feel but nothing came up. Eventually, after what felt like an eternity, James relaxed. Shucking his clothing and ignoring the fingers, claws and gaping faces that played out on his pale walls, James climbed underneath his doona and shut his eyes tightly. Morning couldn't come quick enough.