"We now got ourselves a murder." Provenza nods, swarming the Murder Room, "Early sixties, Caucasian male. Name of Jackson Raydor. This is the husband of our very own Captain. Therefore, this is high profile for our division. All eyes are on us."

Flynn sits on the edge of his desk, "We need to be easy with this. I'm going over later to sit with Captain Raydor when her children come. We're going to have to pull some extra weight. I don't just mean with this case, I mean helping out with the kid too."

"I'll handle that. I'm the least busy." Buzz nods, speaking up from his desk.

"We can take turns. Don't want to put all that on you." Andy nods to him, "I'm going to be a liaison between this office and Sharon...Captain Raydor. I think we need to keep this tight. I don't want the press getting his identity until her kids are told."

"Fair enough." Provenza nods, "Sanchez, any info on the murder weapon.

"Witnesses say there was no reloading. Probably extra capacity. Ballistics hasn't come in yet." Sanchez shakes his head.

"Sykes, you got anything?"

Amy leans back, looking at the pictures, "Surveillance tapes are being combed through. There hasn't been enough time for us to have results back from anything."

Provenza runs his hand through his hair, "Yeah, you're right. Have all the witnesses or victims given their statements?"

Tao nods, "Yes, and there are a few interesting ones. Matthew Taylor," He picks up a photograph, and walks it to the whiteboard, using a magnet to place it up, "Seems to have given us the most details of the crime. He is the bartender at Melrose and was speaking with Jackson Raydor when our suspect walked into the establishment. He is also Chief Taylor's nephew."

"Makes me want to handle this case more now than ever." Flynn nods, "I mean, what did this idiot do it for? To settle a score? Did he lose a bet?" He shakes his head, "Was Jack Raydor targeted?"

"It doesn't seem so. Witnesses say the suspect entered and used a sweeping motion to spray bullets all over the bar and it's patrons." The man continues, "However, there was a higher concentration of bullets where Jackson Raydor and Matthew Taylor were believed to be."

Sanchez nods, demonstrating from his seat, "Suspect enters the bar, begins firing. He starts, sprays over, and pauses. It's almost as if he was aiming for either Jackson Raydor or Matthew Taylor."

Provenza nods, "Okay, we need to explore their pasts more. See if they have any unpaid debt to anyone or maybe some reason for someone to want to shoot them. Do not hold back when it comes to either families. We're just doing our jobs here."

Flynn stands, "I'll go and talk to the Captain." He nods, "Anyone finds anything out, I'll be there most of the day."

The man nods, moving closer to his friend, "How is she really?"

Andy shakes his head slowly, "Don't ask." His tone somber.

"Let her know I'm...the division, is thinking about her." Louie sighs, "I'll let get everyone to pitch in for some food for them."

"Yeah, my mother always did that too." He pulls on his jacket, "If you need me, that's where I'll be."

"And Flynn..."

"Yeah?"

"She's a widower. Don't come on so hard with her." He raises his eyebrows, a smirk plays upon his lips.

Flynn rolls his eyes, walking past his friend towards the elevator. Was he that transparent? Ever since they first crossed paths with his many indiscretions, he was a common fixture around the FID offices. He found her intense ways frustrating and wildly attractive at the same time. When she first told him she was married, he was crushed.

The drive to her condo seemed to last forever and there was barely any traffic on the roads, which seemed unheard of for the Los Angeles area. He picks up the phone calling his Captain.

Sharon notices the name along with the face on her phone as identification and relaxes slightly, "Flynn, I'm pleased it's you."

He smirks, "Is that right?"

"Yes. So many calls to the landline offering condolences...I unplugged all of the phones throughout the condo. The silence is nice...yet deafening." She says quietly, leaning back into the sofa more, "Thank you for getting Rusty off this morning. You didn't have to do that."

"Well, I know all he'd do if you let him stay home was worry about you." Flynn shakes his head, "You hungry? Want me to grab lunch somewhere?"

Sharon smirks slightly, "Are you not at work?"

"Nah. Don't need to be. Taylor is helping out more and I can only take so much of that idiot."

She raises an eyebrow, "Why is he helping out?"

"Shit...you don't know." Andy sighs heavily, unsure if he should tell her outright or sugar coat things.

"About?" Her voice raises.

"I'll be there in a few, we'll order delivery."

"Andy." Sharon rolls her eyes, "I do not like being in the dark in terms of withheld information."

"I'm three minutes out. Relax." He touches the screen of his phone, ending the call.

She rises from the sofa where she was seated, folding her arms. Her mind begins to race. What could possibly be so awful that the entire division was hiding information from her? She knew she was too close to the case for them to actively involve her, but she thought they would at least keep her informed with every aspect. Glancing toward her phone, she picks it up, sending Rusty a text message. "Everything okay?"

Rusty notices the message and knowing the morning she had, and how Lieutenant Flynn drove him to school, he raises an eyebrow, "Yeah. Getting out early. Andy can't pack a lunch."

Sharon smirks, chuckling to herself softly, "Stay in school. I'll have him retrieve at regular time." She knows he's worried about her. She hates when he worries about her. Children should not have to worry about the wellbeing of their parents when they're teenagers. However, Rusty always had to when he was small, and Rusty isn't her child.

"Srsly? You are no fun." He makes a face, hiding his iPhone under his desk as class goes on.

"So I hear." She shakes her head, glancing to the door when there is a knock, she picks up the phone again, "Andy is here. Talk to you later."

"Of course. TTYL." Rusty rolls his eyes, smirking. He has always noticed an attraction between the two, and always knew the only thing holding them back was their positions within the department and her marriage with Jackson.

Sharon opens the door to the condo, smiling as the taller silver haired man enters, "You didn't have to come. I'm not an invalid, you know."

Flynn shrugs, "I like to help out." He smirks.

"Okay, before we order anything, you're going to tell me what is going on with this case." She points to the sofa.

He sighs, following her orders, "What do you want to know?"

"Do we have any suspects?"

"No."

Sharon raises an eyebrow, pouting her lips slightly, "Okay, what was it you were going to say over the phone that just had to wait until you arrived?"

He sighs heavily, adjusting his position on the sofa, "Ya know, this couch doesn't look like it would be too comfortable, but it's probably one of the most-"

"Andy-" She warns, sitting next to him. She leans back, folding her arms.

"Fine." Flynn nods, watching her, "Taylor's nephew works at the bar. He was there the night things went down...was talking to your husband when it happened."

Sharon sits up straighter, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Crouched behind the bar." He watches her, "In the videos, it looks like your husband stood and attempted to protect or save him."

"Jack?" She swallows, "How do you mean?"

"He immediately stood up and outstretched his arms. Didn't try to turn around, just stood and spread his arms out. It was pretty damn weird." Andy smiles softly, "So, his death wasn't for nothing, Sharon." He leans over, gently touching her arm when he sees her begin to well with tears.

"The...my children want no parts of any services. They said he wasn't good for anything." Sharon hums, smiling sadly, "If they only knew."

Andy nods, somberly. He wouldn't be surprised if his own children would do the same thing, "So, what are you going to do?"

"He was my husband. I'll call the church and schedule something." She nods slowly, "He deserves a proper burial. Everyone does, regardless of how terrible or great they were in life, everyone deserves someone there to say goodbye." That word. The first time she really thinks of it, "I never thought I'd see the day." She stares at the coffee table, "He may have made some terrible decisions in his life, but he was a good man, Flynn. He really was." A tear escapes her bottom lid and drips down her porcelain cheek, "Even if I'm the only one to attend the funeral, he will have a proper Catholic burial."

Reaching across to her, he wraps his muscular arms around her thin frame. She doesn't expect his touch to feel this way, even though she felt it the night before, "You wouldn't be alone. I'd be there with you. The rest of the squad, Rusty probably would too." Andy tilts her face up to meet his eyes with a gentle lift of her chin with his knuckle, "You're never alone, Sharon."

She swallows, searching his face for something, anything to make her stop feeling like this. She's never been terrified of being alone, some part of her maybe, but Rusty has taken care of that as of recently. She feels comforted in her Lieutenant's arms, but can feel her heart begin to quicken. Flutter, almost. "Are you hungry?" The only thing she can think to say without saying the wrong thing.

"Yeah." He smirks, watching her, "Whatever you want. My treat."

"Maybe we should wait for Rusty."

Andy nods. He forgot about the kid, "Whatever you want."

Sharon leans away from him slightly, nervous of their closeness, "I don't know what I want." She wants to feel his lips against her own and his hands in her wild brunette mane. "Whatever you think."

"Well, how about both?" He watches her, wanting to keep a hand on her at all times. Needing to touch her. Needing her to feel everything was alright.

"I couldn't possibly ask you to do that." She shakes her head slowly.

"You didn't ask me to do anything. I'm demanding it." Andy grins.

Sharon releases a breath she wasn't aware she was holding, "I've never heard you demand anything, Lieutenant."

"Never had to." He shrugs, "There a drawer or something around here where you keep the menus?"

She nods, "Next to the refrigerator."

Andy stands, walking to where he was told. He feels comfortable here. Almost as if he's lived here for years instead of seeing it for the first time the day before, "Kitchen's real nice. Looks like my grandmother's."

Sharon smirks, "That supposed to be a complement?"

"Yeah, I think the younger crowd calls it vintage now-a-days."

"Sounds accurate." She picks up her phone when it chirps, "Rusty wanted to leave school early, but I told him to just stay. Now, he's accusing me of wanting to be home alone."

"Nah, he's trying to make you feel bad." Andy grabs a few of the best ones, carrying them into the living room.

"Oh, I'm well aware of the stunt he is attempting to pull. However, I have children. Children, who are older than him. I've seen this stunt before." Sharon smirks, "Sad thing is, I can't ignore him or else I feel guilty."

"He's fine." The man waves a hand in the air, "Here, pick what you want. We'll let the kid pick for dinner." He tosses the paper menus onto the small table in front of her.

She smiles more at the use of his term of 'we', leafing through the pamphlets and menus spread out on her coffee table, "Italian?"

"Sounds great." He smirks, "Whatever you want."

"I must ask, Lieutenant, why are you doing all of this?"

Andy looks her in the eye, "All of what?"

"This. This...being so..." Sharon motions to the menus on the table, "Diligent. I can't offer you anything."

"I don't want anything from you, Sharon." He shakes his head.

"Then why do all that you are doing?" Sharon stands, watching him pace slightly, "I can't give you a promotion, I can't-"

"I don't want anything from you. Haven't you ever had anyone who just wants to be there just to be there?" Andy can feel his temper begin to rise, not necessarily with her, but toward whoever made her think this way, "Jack, or your children?"

"This isn't about me." She shakes her head, walking to the kitchen.

"I saw the bottle of wine. You drank an entire bottle after I left this morning?"

"I'm not the alcoholic here." Sharon quickly replies. A little too quickly. She wishes she could take it back, but it's already been said.

Andy knows he deserved that for pushing too hard, "It's been a few hours. I can't even...you hold it well."

"I'm Irish. It's what we do."

He sighs, shaking his head, "No, it isn't." Flynn watches her, "I've been there, Sharon. It doesn't go away with alcohol."

"Please." Sharon makes eye contact with him, "Do not give me some...condescending bullshit. I don't need it right now."

"I apologize." Flynn watches her, her hands tremble when she pushes her hair back, he notices, "How about I order lunch, and you take a nap."

"I don't need a nap." She mumbles.

"Why not?"

She rolls her eyes as they pool with tears, "I just don't."

"Look, I'm not saying it for myself. I'm saying that if you're like this when I bring Rusty home, he's going to know something is up. He's going to feel it." Andy shakes his head, one hand in his pocket and the other emphasizing his point, "And it's going to be like his mother all over again. Should have seen how worried he was when he thought her damn hotel room might have a minibar."

Sharon looks toward the ceiling, attempting to keep the tears from escaping her eyes. She won't tell him that she sees her dead husband when she closes her eyes. She won't tell him that he's all she can think of, "Yeah, okay." Anything for Rusty, she reasons with herself.