Thanks to encouragement from Mamabella, Oracle92 and toomanycats, i'm gonna do a few more chapters but be warned, i haven't got a clue where this story is going, so reviews are appreciated.
When Sharon arrived back at her quiet little neighbourhood she was surprised to see that Max's motorcycle was on the drive. Despite what she had told Andy at the cemetery, she had expected Max to be out with his friends. She pulled into her space alongside the blue Kawasaki Ninja and frowned when she saw the windows of the kitchen were open, it wasn't a warm day so that could only mean one thing. Max was trying to cook again.
"Oh God." Sharon muttered to herself and climbed out of the car, making sure it was locked before walking up the short path to the porch and front door. As she passed the kitchen windows she could definitely smell burning. Apparently what she'd told Flynn was right after all. She would have to check the house was still standing.
"Max?" she called once she was inside the house. Hearing the distinct sounds of her son swearing she walked slowly into the kitchen, mentally preparing herself for the worst on the way, "Maxie?" she peeked around the doorframe and smiled when she saw the mop-haired teenager trying to pull something smoking out of the oven without the help of oven-gloves. When he pulled his hand back quickly and swore, Sharon dashed over to him, "Whoa Maxie, stop."
The teenager straightened and looked down at her sheepishly and stepped back from the oven. Sharon scooped up the pair of oven-gloves that were sitting forgotten on the countertop and waved them at him in 'these would help' fashion. Max gave her a Raydor-esque roll of the eyes and took them from her. After succeeding in removing the burnt – whatever it was – Max put it in the sink and frowned at it. Sharon grinned at his adorable expression and turned off the oven.
"Maxie, what were you trying to do?" she asked him, trying to keep her amusement out of her voice because she knew it would hurt his feelings. Max glared at the offending object again and shook his black hair out his eyes.
"Nothin', I just thought I'd make somethin' for you before you got home." Sharon glanced around the kitchen and noticed a couple of broken eggs and a fine dusting of what she presumed was flour across one of the countertops, "It was supposed to be a cake." Max told her in a small, disappointed voice.
Sharon reached up and wiped a smudge of flour off his cheek, noticing it was in his hair as well, "You didn't have to do that Maxie," before he had a chance to interrupt her, she ruffled his hair, "But I appreciate the gesture."
Max smiled at her and grabbed a cloth to clean up the mess he'd made; Sharon took off her trench and went to hang it in the hall closet. She was just kicking her shoes off when she heard Max call out of the kitchen, "Whippet called, she said she's gonna come over after her lectures are finished today."
Sharon smiled at Max's nickname for his sister and poked her head back into the kitchen in time to see him throw the 'cake' in the bin, "Did she say what time?"
Max shook his head and turned the hot water on in the sink, "She just said it'd be later." Sharon walked up to the sink and grabbed a dry dishtowel while he washed up the mixing bowls and cake tin he had used, handing them to her as he finished them.
"You know what, Maxie, I'll finish up here, and you go get yourself cleaned up, okay?" Max gave her a surprised look but didn't argue; he could tell from his mother's demeanour that she wanted some time to herself and cleaning gave her something to do.
"Okay." He said hesitantly and gave her a peck on the cheek, "I love you Mama Bear."
Sharon smiled at him and reached up to brush his hair out of his green eyes, "I love you too Sweetie."
Flynn walked into the murder room and sighed in relief when he found it was empty, or at least mostly empty. Provenza was sat behind his desk snoring lightly, an unfolded newspaper covering his lap.
Going over to his own desk, Flynn draped his coat over the back of his chair and screwed a piece of paper into a ball before throwing it at the dozing man. The ball hit the older man in the face and startled him awake, "Damnit Flynn!" he grumbled when he spotted Flynn chuckling from behind his chair.
"Hello to you too, Provenza." Flynn replied sarcastically, perching himself on the edge of his desk, "Where is everybody?"
Provenza made another grumbling noise and flicked through his newspaper until he found the puzzles, "The Chief and Gabriel went to give Pope the case report, Tao's doing something with Buzz in the electronics room, and Sanchez," he paused and looked around the room, "isn't here."
Flynn raised an eyebrow that said 'you don't say' and pulled an open bag of peanuts out of his desk drawer and began nibbling.
"Hey where'd you get off to, Flynn?" Provenza asked, curious as to what was so important that his partner had vanished during their lunch break.
"Had an errand to run." He said gruffly, hoping that Provenza would pick up on the note of finality in his voice. Not that he would have had a chance to speak again because at that moment Hurricane Johnson blew into the room, shortly followed by Gabriel.
"Lieutenant Provenza," she stopped when she saw Flynn, "Lieutenant Flynn, there you are, where were you?" the blonde placed both her hands on her hips to punctuate her question.
Flynn inwardly groaned, knowing the Chief wouldn't be as satisfied with his answer as Provenza was, but it was worth a shot, "I'm sorry, Chief, I had an errand."
Brenda frowned and removed her hands from her hips to cross her arms across her chest, "What kind of an errand, Lieutenant?" she asked him, her southern lilt cutting across the room.
Flynn scratched the back of his head and stood up from his seat on the edge of his desk, "I had to visit the cemetery, Chief." He watched as Brenda's face softened and she let her rigid stance relax.
Provenza blew out an "Ohhh" and buried himself in his paper again.
"'Oh' what, Lieutenant?" Brenda asked; her natural curiosity now peaked.
Flynn glared at Provenza and shook his head, "Nothing, Chief. I'm going for coffee." Flynn eased himself around Brenda, who was still stood in the murder room doorway, and stalked off down the corridor towards the break-room.
Brenda furrowed her eyebrow in confusion and glanced at Provenza who was now concentrating on a crossword, a pencil hanging between his teeth, "Lieutenant Provenza," Provenza grunted in response, his eyes never leaving his paper, "May I have a moment?"
This caught Provenza's attention and he shot a surprised look at the Chief, "Of course, Chief." He said while hauling himself out of his chair, dropping the paper to his desk and tucking his pencil back into his pocket.
Brenda led the older man to her office and closed the blinds slowly. Provenza knew this wasn't a good sign so he closed the office door, dropped into the visitor's chair in front of her desk and waited for the interrogation to begin.
Provenza watch Brenda pace a small circle before sighing deeply and going to sit in her own chair, folding her hands together on the desk, "Is everything okay, Lieutenant?" she asked gently.
"Everything's fine Chief." Provenza replied quickly and scratched his ear.
"I mean with Lieutenant Flynn."
Provenza glanced quickly to the door as if he expected Flynn to walk through at that moment before answering her question, "Eleven years ago, Flynn was part of the Narco unit." Brenda nodded, remembering reading it in Flynn's personnel packet not long after she arrived, "He and his partner were sent to this abandoned warehouse after they got a tip it was being used as a cookhouse." He paused and looked back at the door again.
"And what happened?" Brenda asked, not sure she wanted to know the answer.
Provenza sighed and sat forward in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees, "As far as we could figure, some addicts got the jump on 'em and landed them both in the hospital," Provenza stood and started pacing around the office, "Jack was shot." He finished with another sigh.
Brenda stayed quiet for a moment and looked at the floor before speaking, "He didn't make it." Not a question, a statement.
Provenza made a grumbling noise and shook his head; "Jack spent a week in a coma before he died. Today's the anniversary."
Brenda reached into the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the first thing her hand came in contact with, "Oh my Lord." She said, breaking off a chunk of the chocolate bar and slipping it into her mouth and letting it melt.
"One more thing Chief-" Provenza started before he was interrupted by Brenda's phone ringing. Brenda huffed and grabbed the phone, quickly swallowing what was left of the chocolate in her mouth.
"Chief Johnson." She answered, her eyebrows knitting together in a tight frown as she listened, "Oh, for heaven's sake. We'll be right there." She hung up the phone and slung her bag onto her shoulder before grabbing her coat and storming out of her office, Provenza in tow.
"Mum!" Max yelled up the stairs, "Your phone's ringing!" Hearing his mother tell him to answer it for her, he picked up the phone and asked the person on the other end to wait.
Sharon all but ran down the stairs and took the phone from Max's outstretched hand, smiling at him in thanks, "Raydor."
Max watched his mother's demeanour quickly change from relaxed to tense and annoyed as she listened intently, "You've gotta be kidding?" She asked, the exasperation clear in her voice, "Okay, I'll be there soon." She hung up the phone and gave a frustrated groan.
Max went to the hall closet and pulled out her coat for her while she slipped her trainers on. She gave him an apologetic smile as he helped her put the trench on, "I'll tell Whippet you'll be late back."
Sharon smiled at him and stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek, "I hope not." Max grinned at her and opened the door for her, watching as she climbed into her car and waved at him as she backed out of the drive.
It was going to be a long day.