A/N: This is one that's been brewing for some while, now. It's my take on how Andy got sober. It follows the "Alabama Sugar" timeline, so it doesn't quite match up with Andy's 14 years of sobriety on the show. So, I guess you could call it mildly AU. Please read and enjoy! Ohh- and R&R!

Prologue: Hello, Trouble

August, 1998

No one can give the exact reason, but every cop knows that crime goes up with the temperature. When it's hot outside, everything starts to happen. There are more rapes, more domestic violence cases, more burglaries — and more murders.

When Detective Andy Flynn walked out of the Hollywood division station of the LAPD, all he wanted was a cold beer or four and some sleep. He had been out most of the day and previous night on a stakeout at the home of a murder suspect. Man, could he go for an ice-cold six-pack right about now. But he had to get to a bar on Hollywood Boulevard and see if anyone had seen the victim the night his throat was slit.

Andy was familiar with the place, as he was with most of the clubs in the Hollywood area, both professionally and personally. This bar had an official name, but the guy who owned it was named Tucker, so everyone called it "Tucker's place." Inside, Andy relished the relative cool and the dim light was a welcome change from the glare of the L.A. sun. It was nearly sundown now, and he was glad. The light of these long summer days always started to get to him after a couple of months.

Since he was officially still on duty, Andy couldn't indulge his desire for a cold beer, but he could look around at the clientele. This was one of "his" haunts and one of the women at the bar looked familiar. She was a blonde with a great body and legs that wouldn't quit. He had seen her in here before, but she was always with someone. Andy preferred women who were alone. He could wheedle a girl away from her date – had done it on occasion – but normally, it was just too much trouble for the payoff.

But tonight, the blonde was alone and Andy actually had a legitimate question for her. He took his photo of the victim and eased up to her at the bar.

"Excuse me," he said. "I'm Detective Andy Flynn, LAPD, and I'd like to know if you could help me out."

The blonde turned to look at the man speaking to her. Men always hit on her, so she was used to it. However, this guy didn't have the air of someone doing any "hitting." He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair, graying at the temples, and eyes that might be dark brown or even black. It was hard to tell in this light. He looked like he might be curious, maybe, but not really anything else. He wore khaki slacks and a navy polo shirt. She glanced to his waist and sure enough, there was a badge.

"Chloe Duncan, Detective. What can I do for you?"

"Are you in here on a regular basis?"

"Couple of times a week. Why?"

Andy slid the photo across the bar. "Do you remember seeing this guy in here on Wednesday?"

"Gene? Yeah. He was here."

"Do you remember seeing him leave with anyone, or did he maybe have a fight with someone? Anything weird?"

"I think he left with some guy. Lots of tattoos and piercings, y'know? Not usually who comes in here."

"Did you hear them argue or anything like that?"

"Nah. They just left together."

"Do you remember what time this was?"

"Oh, I don't know. It was middle of the sixth inning of the Dodgers game, so nine or so?"

Andy grinned at her. "That's great. Helps a lot." He put the photo in his back pocket and said. "Now that I'm off duty, can I buy you a drink?"

Chloe looked the man up and down. If he was fishing, she might be amenable to being caught. For the evening, anyway. "Sure. Gin and tonic." Andy gestured to the bartender and placed her order.

"Bud Light. Coldest one you've got," he said.

The bartender brought the drinks and Andy took a long swallow. "That hits the spot," he said. "I've wanted one all day. Too damn hot out there."

"So it's true what they say about the crime rate going up when it's hot?" Chloe said.

He nodded. "It's true. If the weatherman says there's a heat wave on the way, we get ready. Never fails. Thirteen years on the force and I can tell you it never fails."

"Why is that, you think?" she asked.

"Who knows? People get hot, their air-conditioning quits working, they get pissed and start shooting each other. That may be one reason." Andy finished his beer and thought about ordering another, but remembered he had to drive himself home. He glanced at Chloe Duncan. She was a beautiful woman. Chloe saw Andy's gaze turn a little predatory and felt a little fire spark in her blood. She waited for him to make a move, but all he did was pay for their drinks and fish his car keys from his pocket. Had she misread what she saw in his face? She really didn't know.

"Thanks for the drink, Detective," Chloe said.

"Sure thing," he answered.

"Heading home?" she asked, testing the waters.

He raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, unless I find a reason to go somewhere else."

"I haven't had dinner yet. Have you?"

Andy shrugged. "Not really that hungry."

Damn. He was not making this easy, Chloe thought.

Andy, on the other hand, could almost see what was going through this woman's mind. She wanted him to make the moves, but he wasn't going to play it that way. Leave the bait out long enough, and eventually, you'll catch what you were hunting for. So, he kept his answers non-committal, but certainly open-ended. She was going to have to ask for it.

"There's a great Middle Eastern kebab stand near where I live. We could grab some take-out there and go to my place – to eat." Chloe was going to see exactly what Detective Andy Flynn had in mind. Something about him piqued her curiosity, and she was determined to satisfy it.

It wasn't the first late night Andy Flynn could recall, and he figured it wouldn't be his last, either. As looked in the mirror and knotted his tie, he grinned a little thinking about the night before. Chloe Duncan was something of a wildcat, and it had been very, very late when he finally kissed her good-night and came home. She had given him her number and said she wanted him to call her again. He thought he would. She was attractive and hot in the sack. It might be fun – for a while, anyway.