Quote: "But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams." William Butler Yeats

Sheldon Hawkes stared in disbelief at Detective Don Flack and wondered not for the first time that day, if everyone he worked with really thought so little of him.

Here he was being questioned about his friend Brian and funds he allegedly embezzled as though he Hawkes was the accomplice.

What was it going to take for his friends and colleagues to belief him? Did he have to bleed or perhaps take a polygraph test, what exactly did he have to do to convince them he was indeed innocent?

Detective Flack wasn't sure what to make of the situation with Dr. Hawkes. He'd drawn the case, made the arrest and got shocked during the process.

Questioning the Crime Scene Investigator was like pulling teeth in Flack's mind. Even though the detective doubted the doctor was involved in the embezzlement and would most likely not be charged, he wasn't sure that he was being completely honest with him and wasn't afraid to call him on it.

"Hawkes, you got to help me out here man."

"I had no idea Brian was wanted for embezzlement. Okay, we went to college together, just got reacquainted."

"You were on his couch."

"Yes. I stay there sometimes when I'm volunteering for the medical unit. You know, I just get so beat, I don't want to take the train home."

"Shel?"

"What?"

"I know when someone's lying to me, and I'm not just talking about the crooks I lock up every day."

"I'm telling you what I know, Don, alright? You can't possibly think that I'm involved in something Brian was up to. You're kidding me, right? Don?"

"I'm done. Get out of here."

Don could see how dejected Hawkes looked as he left the precinct. He had wanted nothing more than to put an arm around the other man and assure him that he was still his friend and that he was only doing his job it was nothing personal.

Sitting behind his desk Flack was unable to focus on the case report he needed to complete. He was tired and hungry but more than that he couldn't get the doctor to leave him mind long enough to string to words together for a sentence.

He needed to talk to the doc, figure out what was going on in that big brain of his and hopefully help him work it out. However, he just could help wondering, would Hawkes welcome his present or turn him away and was it possible to convince the doctor that he wanted to help despite just interrogating him?

The last thing Flack wanted was for Hawkes to feel like an outsider at work when they were all just doing their job.

Deciding the only way to solve anything was to talk to Hawkes face to face; Flack picked up his jacket and left the precinct in pursuit of Hawkes. One way or the other he was going to convince the other man that he was on his side, that when he was ready to talk, he would listen to him and would not judge him no matter what was said.