As an energetic, ambitious, 32-year-old, Sharon O'Dwyer entered law enforcement over two decades prior, and the only thing she expected to come from her new job, was money to pay for law school. With softer features and a brighter smile, Sharon prayed daily to live through the day, so she could make her parents proud. The first time she ever fired her weapon, her hands were trembling and a cold sweat had broke out, across her skin. With her arms held out in front of her, she stared at the man on the other end of her gun, lying face down on the pavement, blood pouring out from around his head. The only thing she could focus on at the time, was how unaffected she was by the fact she had just killed another human being. She waited to feel something: regret, sinful or anything resembling guilt, but soon realized it just wasn't as devastating as she'd thought it would be.

That day changed Sharon's life forever, and not just because she earned a promotion for taking down one of California's most wanted fugitive. That was the day Sharon realized she could kill.

Every 28th of November, Sharon would drink something a little stronger. She'd take the day off, stay up the entire night before creating potential dialogues and put on one of the unreasonably expensive necklaces that Andy had bought her. Her hands would fidget, and she couldn't seem to ignore her self-inflicted troubles. This particular day was a painful reminder that came annually, of how she'd been hiding from her husband of twenty-three years that she was a serial killer.

-DC-

With her spare hand, she pulled her cellphone from out of the inside of her jacket, while holding the other one out steady in front of her. She flipped her hair over her shoulder, wishing she had brought an elastic as she waiting for the line to pick up. One ring... two rings... "Hi, I just drove by 342 Fairview Street and I think I heard gunshots."

There was an eerie silence in the room, as Sharon kept her eyes locked on the floor in-front of her. Without another word, Sharon hung up the phone and shoved the phone back in her pocket. The woman on the floor held up her hands and pleaded for mercy, tears streaming down her face, but this wasn't personal, and it wasn't Sharon first time at the rodeo.

A loud bang went off, followed by a thud as the younger woman's head hit the floor. Sharon waited a few seconds, and once the body was still long enough, she pulled her phone back out. "Hey it's me. It's done."

-DC-

She turned the keys in the front door, letting herself in. Working two jobs certainly wasn't easy, and as many times as she'd thought about quitting one or the other, she still wasn't able to bring herself to a decision of which was most worthy of keeping.

She hung her coat up, and as she was lifted her leg to remove the pure black stilettoes from her swollen feet, she heard Andy calling from down the hall. "Honey, you home?"

She reached into her purse and pulled out a contact mirror. Holding it under the light, she wiped off the small droplets of blood on her cheeks and took a few deep breaths. The calendar was in-front of her, reminded her for the millionth time that day that it was November 28th. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath.

She treaded down the hallway, putting on a smile for him. She stood in the doorway, hands covering her mouth as she admired the scene before her. "Andy..."

The lights were off and only a few candles on her nightstand were lit, with a small box sitting beside the frame holding their wedding photo. He held out his arms, letting her unfold and for a second she was able to forget about all the bad things she'd done. "You're late," he breathed.

His arms around her, and heat against her skin made her almost forget to answer. "I'm sorry, I was in the morgue for a while with Major Crimes. I should have called beforehand."

He kissed her forehead, moving his hands down to encircle her waist. She was relieved that he wasn't upset. This was the third day in a row she'd come home late, because she was out doing other business. His lips moved down her cheeks, to her neck, leaving a wet trail. "Happy 21st," he breathed into her ear, making her head swirl.

The knots in her stomach were only worsening as his voice replayed in her mind; Twenty-one years together, Twenty-ones years of lying. Her heart was hammer in her chest as one of his hands moved inside of her blouse. She was so wrapped up in her thought, she hadn't even noticed he'd taken off his jacket. He kissed back up to her jaw, leaving her skin hot and flushed as he landed on her lips. She loved this man with her whole being, but she found herself unable to move. In that moment, with the heat radiating off of them, his fingers tangled in her hair and his lips on her skin, she was motionless. His mouth was red from her lips. "Sharon, what's wrong?"

He knew she must be tired, but whenever it came down to this, she was usually up for anything. Her slow response made it clear something was off. Come to think of it, he was beginning to worry about her being a little off every anniversary they spent together. She had assured him time and time again that it had nothing to do with her regretting their marriage, or not having kids. She swore it had nothing to do with their marriage at all, but it just kept leaving him confused by what was bothering her every year. "It's nothing, I'm sorry. I just had a long day and-"

"We can stop if you want. I know you must be tired."

"No, Andy, that's not necessary." She ran her hands through his hair, instantly feeling guilty for making him feel bad. "I just had a long and I'm having a hard time taking my mind off things."

"Well maybe I can help..." His lips returned to his, and she focused all her intention on him. A low moan fell from her lips, and within a few seconds she had her arms above her head on the bed, as his mouth explored the inside of her shirt. Hot air moved from her mouth as his lips travelled farther and farther down. Once her slacks were on the floor, her hands were gripping the sheets, her bottom lip quivering as his lips and tongue over powered every last guilty thought on her mind. His withdrawal left her panting, shortly before she felt the lace slide down her thighs and past her toes. Within seconds his warmth returned, leaving her whole body in rapture. Her moans grew louder, her back arching as waves of pleasure came thrashing all through her body, leaving her motionless on the bed.

Her hands immediately went for his, tangling their fingers as she gasped for breath. "How's that bad day going," he asked, with a grin on his face.

"Much better," she managed to get out in-between breath.

"I'm just starting, hon."

-DC-

A couple hours later, after finally surrendering to their fatigue, they lay next to one another on the damp sheets. Her mind was clear for the time being, wrapped up in his arms as they caught their breath. With her head on his chest she could hear his heart pulsing, and that somehow reminded her of what she needed to say. "I love you," she murmured, as more of a reminder for herself than him.

As much as she wanted to be honest, she knew what that could lead to. The two of them were so happy together and Sharon didn't want to ruin that, for either of them. She closed her eyes, and let the exhaustion take its toll.

He watched her eyes slowly grow heavier and heavier until the fell shut. Once her breathing slowed he knew she had fallen asleep and felt at ease. He knew that there was something more than work bothering her. Whatever it was, he figured that her not telling him must have been for his own good. His hands smoothed over her hair, falling over her shoulder and on to the pillow behind her, the other holding her waist. Every night he held her, almost as if he still couldn't believe she was his wife, and was afraid that one day he'd wake up and she would have been a dream. He kissed the top of her head, before letting his head fall back against the pillow. Just before he was about to fall asleep he heard a ringing come from across the room. After a few rings, Sharon still didn't wake, so he laid her gently next to him on the bed, and rose to see who was calling so late.

Filled with worry, he walked over to her jacket on the floor and reached into the pocket, pulling out an iPhone 4. They both had newer phones, who whose was this? He opened up the screen, to check the missed call.

"Andy... what is it?" Sharon slurred, half awake.

"Someone's phone started ringing." He held up the device to show her. "Who's is this?"

She shot up from the bed, her eyes wide with fear. This is it, she thought. "I-uh... I don't know. It must be someone else's from work."

She saw the phone open in his hand, and his reaction made her heart drop. "Sharon, it's a picture of you and me at the gala last month."

Shit! She tried searching for something that would explain her having a second phone, but nothing was coming to mind. All the other potential explanations would still deem her a criminal, and she didn't feel that it was worth the lie. "Andy... I-"

"Sharon, why do you have two cellphones?" His voice grew louder, as he held up the phone for her to see. "Who is Jeff, and why is he calling you?"

Her stomach tightened, and she broke into a cold sweat. How was she going to get out of this one? "I-um..."

"Sharon, are you seeing this guy?"

She managed to pull on one of his t-shirts, which was big enough on her to reach her mid-thighs. "Andy, NO! That isn't it at all, I promise."

"Well then what the hell, does it mean?"

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you." She held her hands up, as she prepared for what she was about to tell him. "Just sit down, okay. Please, just let me explain first and then you can get angry."

"Why would I be angry? If you aren't cheating on me, then what's worse than that?"

He sat across from her on the bed let her take his hands. "Andy... I haven't been totally honest with you."

She wanted so badly to blurt it out, but she knew at their age it might be better to do this slowly. "First, I just want you to know that I love you, and will always love you more than anything else in this world. I would never ever purposely hurt you, or do anything to wreck this marriage."

By the look in his eyes, she was only making it worse by beating around the bush. She decided not to lay it all on him at once, however. "Andy. Before I came home tonight, I wasn't in the morgue. I was doing something for my other job."

Andy had no idea what was going on. Why was she so nervous to tell him, and what kind of job would cause her to need a second phone? "You have a second job? That's what you're trying to tell me?

"Yes, but that's not all of it. You don't understand..."

"Well, then tell me. Where else do you work?"

She looked him deeply in the eyes, praying to God that after all these years of marriage she had earned herself redemption from this. "Andy, I shot someone tonight?"

That certainly didn't make any of this more obvious him. He only got more confused and then concerned for her well-being. "What!? Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Why did you shoot someone?"

Each question shot at her like a silver bullet, and knew couldn't dodge them like had been for so long. "I'm fine Andy. They didn't do anything to me." She took a deep breath, before she let the dreaded words seep out of her mouth. "I was paid to kill them."

He jumped up from the bed, ripping his hands from hers. "You WHAT!?"

"This wasn't the only time it's happened either. It's been happening for over twenty years?"

This was all way too much for him to handle at once, he was left completely speechless. "What I'm trying to say is. Andy, I'm a hitwoman."

"No. No, no, no you're not. That'd ridiculous. Sharon tell me what's really going on? Are you sure you aren't cheating on me?!"

She tried to get closer but he took a step back, but necessarily angry yet, but needing the space to get a grip on himself. She gave him a moment, and knew the worst thing to do was make him feel forced to forgive her. "So, what you're telling me is that you have been murdering people on a regular basis, since before we even met?"

There was tears in her eyes, as the realization set in that there was a very good chance she was about to lose the only man she'd ever really loved. All she could do was not her head, as tears started filling her eyes. "Andy...

"Sharon, you've been lying to me this whole time? How can you even live with yourself?"

He was more shocked than anything. Sharon Flynn did not seem criminal; She wasn't violent, evil, or even suspicious of what she was doing behind his back all this time? His wife was not a killer.

His words were like knives, twisting in her stomach. She felt like she had just thrown herself off of a bridge, and was waiting eagerly to hit the ground for it all to be over. What even was over? Was he going to leave her tonight? Could he ever forgive her for this? Tears were pouring down her face as she held her stomach, trying to hold back the gut-wrenching sobs. The ruthless killer-woman that stood towering over an innocent, dying woman only hours before, was turning into a puddle.

He kept throwing more and more words at her, and at one point she couldn't hear him over her own tears. Why had she done this? She immediately regretted telling him. She knew it was the right thing to do, but she never imagined she would feel this awful afterward.

"Sharon! Are you even listening to me?"

He was mad now; Angrier than she'd ever seen him. The worst part was knowing why he was so angry: because she had disappointed him. She was the one person that he should be able to trust and she'd been lying to him the whole time.

"Andy... I'm s-so... s-sorry. I-" but he cut her off. He didn't want to hear any more of this, while at the same time he still couldn't wrap his head around all of it.

He held up his hand. "Stop. I don't even wanna hear it."

Grabbing his jeans and t-shirt, he began dressing himself. "Andy..."

He slipped on his shoes and reached for his phone on the dresser. "Please. Please don't go. You can yell at me all you want, just please don't leave."

She grabbed on to his shirt, desperately for him to stay but he pulled away. "Sharon, I don't know what the hell you want me to say? Are you expecting we sit here while you –a Captain- tell your detective husband of all the murders you've committed?"

"Andy, I've wanted to tell you the entire time, but how the hell was I supposed to tell you!?"

"Uh, well you could have started with not killing people. Maybe stopping at least when we got married so you don't ruin the whole thing."

"Andy... Don't say that. We move on from this."

He started pacing nervously, finally coming to his senses. He didn't have anywhere else to go anyway and part of him wouldn't let him leave even if he wanted to. The same part of him that was working in over-drive to find a reason to forgive her. She watched him walk back and forth until he eventually stopped.

Once he had calmed down he saw that she was completely a wreck. Her eyes were puffy and her whole face red. Even after she had told him that she's a criminal, he still couldn't stand to see her face glistening with tears. He walked over to the bed, where she was sitting and just held her. Neither of them said anything for a long time. He just needed someone to lean on, even thought that person happened to be the reason for his distress. "Just help me understand why you're doing this? Why has it gone on so long?"

She began explaining to him how she had a troubled friend back in high school and once she realized she was going to need to take some time off to save for law school. That was when she applied to the police college, just so she could make some money. During that time, she started talking to that old friend, and heard how much money her boyfriend was making from selling drugs. At the time, Sharon was insulted and appalled by her friends offer to sell illegal drugs with her, but later on that friend became dependent on her cop friend Sharon, and she was soon taken advantage of. One day Sharon went to visit her friend, and found three sketchy-looking guys standing over her bleeding friend, and shot them all right then and there. That was the beginning of her long career of breaking the law. Once she started making money for it, she realized she had killed too many people already to turn her life around.

"Andy, do you remember our first date?"

She had managed to calm him down enough to be listening. It was a step. "Yeah. It was the same day I got the Mercedes. I took you out for coffee and donuts as a joke."

He couldn't help but smile at the memory. "That night I went home, and I told myself I was going to quit. I tried for a while. I actually stopped for the first few months we were dating, but then something came up and I owed someone, so I did it again."

He was starting to understand a little better how this had happened. She told him everything from start to finish. Where she kept the money, why she was always staying late at work, and where she kept the other guns. She explained how most of the time the people she was asked to kill were corrupt drug dealers, who weren't even conscious when she did it.

Andy didn't know what to make of it all. He knew he wasn't going to report her, but what would happen if she ever got caught? Or worse, got hurt? He would never be able to live with himself if something happened to her. He told her they could talk more in the morning and they went to sleep.

The next few days were awkward and horrible for both of them, but they managed to maintain communication. She was home a lot more, and it was obvious she had stopped since she told him. Weeks passed and they decided that all the money she had earned they were going to anonymously donate over time. She paid off her tuition years ago, and hadn't needed the money for a long time. She never thought she would meet Andy, so she had prepared enough money for the rest of her life.

Somehow, he had learned to love a killer. His wife was one of the bag guys that he chased down at work, except she didn't seem evil like them. After a few years they'd mostly forgotten about it, and only reminisced when something came up that reminded them of it. There was no use for her to keep suffering in FID, a job that she hated but kept so Andy wouldn't catch on to her. She became Captain and then Commander of the Major Crimes unit and lived as happily as any husband and criminal-wife could.