Hello again.

I'm writing this story as a sequel to Resolutions. From what James Duff has revealed about season five, Buzz is going to have a major storyline which will carry through the whole season. I'm really hoping it will relate to how his father and uncle were murdered. I have a feeling that's why he joined the reserves, and why he's gone on to train as a reserve detective.

I've set the story towards the end of season three, where his training is first mentioned, and made the best guess I can on Buzz's age. We know he was eleven when his father and uncle were killed, and the letter Casey reads at the end of You Have The Right To Remain Jolly comes from a folder dated 1987. So I've guessed that Buzz was born in 1976, while the date is a little tip of the hat to Phillip P Keene.

I hope you enjoy it.

Promises Made, Promises Kept

Chapter One

It was a quiet morning, and such a rare respite from the horrors they had to deal with had left the LAPD's finest kinda - bored. From all the years he'd worked with them, Buzz knew where such down time could lead. For him, it meant clearing his latest stack of paperwork. For others, though - not so much.

Having finished his crossword, Provenza was now hounding Flynn through the squad room - no doubt trying to drag him into his latest get rich quick scheme. To a sensibly uninvolved observer, it made for great entertainment. Watching them set off on each other again, Buzz smiled, breathing a sigh of relief as they veered away from his desk, and back towards Flynn's.

'If whatever you need involves tracing a cellphone, Lieutenant, the answer is no.'

Beyond the Flynn and Provenza Show, Mike Tao was explaining something to Amy. Whatever she'd asked him, she was starting to regret it. Meeting his eyes for a moment, her expression said it all.

"Help me."

Smiling back at her, Buzz toyed with the idea of coming gallantly to her rescue. As the others never tired of teasing him, he really was just an overgrown boy scout.

Then again, Amy Sykes could take care of herself. She was ex military, after all, while he was just a college kid who could work wonders with cameras. And if her question involved any kind of surveillance - well, chances were that she'd have two techno geeks on her hands, instead of just the one.

Besides, he had more serious things to think about. Glancing at the envelope beside him, Buzz picked it up, then stood and headed into the Media Room. Aside from excluding him from the distractions outside it, he was all the more grateful for the privacy that it now offered him. It was his own, personal sanctuary. A place of peace and quiet, where he could work and think without too many interruptions.

And, right now, he had an awful lot on his mind. Enough for his smile to fade a little as he closed the door behind him, leaning against it while he studied the envelope in his hand.

He'd found it two days ago, clearing out more of their old casefiles, and felt the same mixed emotions now as he'd felt then. Like every unsolved murder, those of his father and uncle were still open, for as long as they took to solve. When he'd seen its label, though - well, yes, it had felt so wrong. So disrespectful, to see their lives reduced to just two names, and a sequence of numbers.

Benjamin Watson. Jonathan Watson. Unsolved Casefile #10895/87/09/08

His father's life. His uncle's. Victims of senseless violence. Just one out of countless others, but still the act of human brutality that had torn his family apart.

Taking a deep breath that he suddenly needed, Buzz settled into his chair and, with the reverence they deserved, eased its contents onto his desk.

A police report. Crime scene photos that seemed so inferior against those that he could take today. Witness statements. All that stood to record that night in September, when a late birthday treat had turned to unthinkable horror.

Even now, years after it had happened, and months after he'd told Rusty - God, it still felt like yesterday. All of it. Everything. The shots. The screams. All the memories. Not just for what had happened on that awful night, either, but the dream that had taken root in that traumatized boy's mind.

When he grew up, he was going to be a detective. He was going to become the best detective in the world, and find the people who'd killed them.

Of course, that dream had taken a bit of a detour. Fate, and his mother's fears of losing him too, had seen to that. But with his fortieth birthday fast approaching, Buzz couldn't help but feel a niggling sense of - what? Resentment? Anger? Well, no, nothing so self destructive as that. No, it was more a sense of frustration, that he'd let his father and uncle down. He'd made them a promise to find the people who'd killed them - and he hadn't kept it.

A wry smile tugged at his mouth as he ran his fingers over his father's effects. Yes, he really was that overgrown boy scout, who hated the thought of breaking his promises.

Still, at least he'd kept the one he'd made to his mother. Found at least some way to join the police without risking his life. In its most elite team of detectives, too, and - God, yes, he'd learned so much from them. These colleagues, these friends, who'd become his second family.

So, then, not so much to regret after all. Those feelings of failure really had no grounding. And yet that childhood dream still lurked in the back of his mind. A teasing, chiding voice, telling him it wasn't too late. If he really wanted to try and find his father and uncle's killers, he had the means now, and at least some of the skills, to do it.

The motive, too? Well, yes, he had that as well. Enough to raise a whole new set of questions, that only one person could help him to answer.

Slipping his father's effects back into their envelope, he then left the Media Room, smiling once more at the ongoing deals and debates around him. When he reached the Captain's office, though, he paused. Was he really doing the right thing here? With everything that it might bring onto him, could he really do this?

For several seconds, Buzz fought with both his fears and his doubts. Then, before he could change his mind, he knocked on the door in front of him, and waited for her to call him inside.

"Sorry to disturb you, Captain, but... uh... do you have a minute?"