A/N: Thank you to WishfulThinker and all of my guest reviewers! I love the play-by-play reviews - you guys crack me up. :)

Enjoy!


The rest of the week flew by. Reagan's car still wasn't out of the shop, much to her chagrin. Deacon was kind enough to pick her up every day while the garage waited for special parts to come in to finish the repairs. That was the only time they were able to joke around and get to know each other. Once they got to work, the brutal training resumed. She loved it though—the fast pace, pumping adrenaline, pushing herself and testing her limits.

It was what made her look forward to her job every morning when she woke up. That and saving lives. She wanted to make a difference, like the officer who had helped her mom so many years before. Pay it forward, right?

The day of their timed run-though arrived. She felt ready. She'd done this before.

The course remained a mystery until their SWAT truck pulled up outside a local community college. Since it was summertime, and a Sunday, no one was on campus, giving them full access. When they exited the truck, Captain Cortez greeted them with a computer tablet in hand.

"Today you're responding to a school shooting. There are an unknown number of assailants, but we've confirmed at least one." She flipped the screen toward them and a grainy surveillance video showed a young white male walking down a hallway, dark hoodie up, and an automatic weapon clutched in his hands. "Shots were reportedly fired in the East Wing, which is where this camera is set up. Number of casualties is also unknown. He may be holding hostages. That's all we know."

"Okay, you heard her," Deacon said as he turned toward his team. "Cassie, what would be standard operating procedure in this situation?"

She cleared her throat as she studied the video once more. "Well, most shootings involving a white male end up being a solo job, but as we know from Columbine, it could very well be two or more. We always have to assume that there are more." She glanced at the captain and asked, "Are any of the entrances armed with explosives?"

"Not that we can see, but we can't say for sure."

"All right, so we need another way in. Maybe a service entrance?" Reagan suggested.

"There's a loading dock for the food court, just off the East Wing," Cortez replied.

"Perfect. So you and Luca," Reagan said, pointing at Hondo, "could go in there and get eyes on our known shooter. He might have a way of communicating with other assailants, if there are any. Then we'll know what we're up against."

As Deacon nodded in approval, Hondo flashed his flawless smile and snapped together the chin straps on his helmet. "Good job, Cas. That's what I would've suggested."

Street nudged her. "Keep it up and you'll put him out of the job."

Reagan laughed. "Nah, I'm good. Being in charge isn't always what it's cracked up to be. Just tell me where to go and I've got your back."

"Oh you know I've got your back," he said when the other team members turned away to ready their gear. He winked.

Reagan rolled her eyes, but still gave him a smile.

The team, minus Hondo and Luca, joined Cortez by the central control van, where they were able to watch the live stream from the two men's helmet cams. Luca used a janitor key to open the service entrance door next to the loading dock. The two men slipped in and continued through the kitchen to the food court. Everything remained quiet as they entered the hallway in the East Wing. They could hear yelling coming from one of the classrooms. Luca attempted to open the door of a neighboring room, but the door was locked.

"School's on lockdown. All of the occupied classrooms should be inaccessible," Cortez reminded them through their earpieces.

"Roger that," Hondo murmured.

The twosome stopped just outside of the classroom in question, and listened.

"We've got at least three assailants. He's talking on a radio…he addressed them as Brad and Greg. It's hard to tell who is who though," Hondo said quietly.

Meanwhile, Luca took out his snake cam and eased it around the corner, through the open doorway. The video was fed back to the team while Luca viewed it on his wrist screen. "Our young white male, along with ten hostages: one teacher and nine students," he relayed.

Hondo spoke now. "We're close to the exit. I don't see any devices on the doors."

Deacon acknowledged that and then turned to the remaining team members. "I'll take Chris in the North Wing. Street and Cassie, you take the South Wing. Proceed with caution, guys. Head on a swivel, right?"

As Reagan double-checked her weapon, which was loaded with tiny paintballs, Deacon stepped toward her.

"You good to go?" he asked.

She glanced up and locked onto his steady gaze, his eyes appearing like melted chocolate under the bright sun. She managed to find her breath and said, "Always."

He smirked and playfully clapped the top of her helmet, a gesture of support that she welcomed as adrenaline flooded her system.

She turned and followed Street to the South Wing's main entrance. He opened the door enough for her to go through, and then shadowed her, easing the door shut so that it made no noise. They proceeded down the hallway, footsteps light on the linoleum floor. Most classroom doors were closed and locked, as they were supposed to be in this kind of situation. There was no one inside today, but it all needed to be as real as possible. Any time they came across an open door, Reagan deemed the room clear while Street watched her back—just like he said he would.

As they neared the end of the corridor, voices came through their earpieces from the other team members.

Deacon. "We've got eyes on assailant number two."

Hondo. "We're still holding at one."

Deacon again. "Cassie, Street, report."

"Negative," Reagan whispered. "All quiet here."

They rounded the corner and came face-to-face with another young man in a hoodie, taking them all by surprise. The assailant raised his weapon as Street popped two paintball rounds into his chest. He sank to his knees and lay down on the floor, pretending to be dead.

"Number three neutralized," Street said, his voice a bit breathless.

"Move in," Deacon ordered, which meant that his team and Hondo's would take out the two other threats.

Luca. "Number one neutralized."

Deacon. "Number two neutralized. Do one last sweep and then we'll call it."

Reagan and Street advanced forward. Movement flickered in the corner of her eye and she turned, catching sight of another assailant in the adjacent doorway—and Street was right in his line of fire.

"Street, down!" she yelled.

He ducked and she fired off three rounds, but not before receiving one in the side of her vest. The blue paintball hit her with a dense "pop," delivering a kick that surprised her, even though she knew what it felt like to get hit by a real bullet.

Deacon. "What's going on?"

"Number four neutralized," Reagan announced.

Street righted himself and kicked away the assailant's weapon, making sure he was indeed "dead." Then, he turned toward Reagan, dropping his gaze to the blue spatter on her ribs.

"Cassie's been hit," he said, eyeing her with disappointment.

"Wait, what?" Deacon asked, his tone sharp.

"I'm fine," she said. "I caught it in my vest."

Street shook his head. "You and I both know you'd be down from that, with a bunch of busted ribs too."

She sighed in defeat. "Okay…I'm down."

"Street, get Cassie out. We'll finish up here," Deacon said. Reagan could have been reading into it too much, but his voice was huskier than normal. Certainly, he wasn't happy with their current predicament.

"Come on," Street said, and slung her arm around his neck.

"I can walk on my own you know."

"Act, Cas, act. Even these guys can do it." He gestured at one of the assailants on the floor, a man whom she recognized from 50-David's team. The man smiled faintly. Street nudged him with the tip of his boot. "Hey, don't do that. You're dead."

"Shut it, Street," the man mumbled.

Street did shut up, but he did so with a smile.

When they got outside, Reagan sat on the bumper of their truck and sipped from her water bottle. Full SWAT gear wasn't ideal during an LA summer. Sweat trickled down her brow and she took a moment to remove her helmet, knowing she had unflattering helmet-hair.

The last four team members approached them, Deacon in front. He reached out and brushed his thumb along the blue paint at her side. Her vest was thick but Reagan swore she could feel every trace of his finger.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, brows drawn together in concern.

He honest to God looked terrified. She almost reminded him that it wasn't real, but thought better of it.

"She saved my life, that's what happened," Street said, smiling. "Fourth assailant came at me from the side. Cassie took him out before he could take me out."

"What happened to 'head on a swivel'?" Deacon asked him, scowling deeply.

That wiped the smile off Street's face. "Yeah, I know. Thankfully Cassie's was."

"Yeah, lucky her. She got shot," Luca reminded him.

Deacon pulled his hand back and rubbed the paint between his fingers, his eyes scanning Reagan's face. He still looked scared, so she offered him a reassuring smile. "I'm okay, boss. We did it. We got it done."

He didn't reply. He just sighed out a heavy breath, which in turn, made him look tired.

"She's right about that," Cortez said as she joined the group. "Your time was good. Having four assailants is unusual, and you guys—and gals—handled it well. Not perfectly, but better than most. Commander Hicks and I are signing off on your team. Congrats." She gave them all a smile, lingering on Hondo for just a second longer than everyone else.

Reagan exchanged a knowing look with Chris, but the men seemed oblivious.

Street pointed at Reagan's wound and quipped, "You bleed blue, rook."

She scoffed. "You know it."

"Yeah, well, you shouldn't be bleeding anything," Deacon said, and then walked away, leaving the group in tense silence.


Back at HQ, Reagan and Chris changed into their street clothes. No one else was around, so Reagan turned to her and asked, "What was with Deacon today?"

Chris stuffed some clothes into her bag as she said, "You noticed that too?"

"Is he normally that intense out on the job?"

Chris shook her head. "I mean, we all have our moments, but that was different."

Reagan paused, thinking that she shouldn't say this out loud, but she had to know. "Is he one of those guys who think that women can't handle the job as well as the men?"

"Deke?" Chris asked, eyes wide. "Hell no! If anything, he'll stand up for you against those jerks. One time I scored poorly on my climbing eval and he wouldn't hear of it. He knew I was better than that. So no, that's not it at all."

Reagan held up her hands. "Sorry, I just had to ask. I've been there enough times…"

Chris nodded in understanding. She zipped up her bag and rested her hands on the rough material. She stared at Reagan, smiling.

The other woman stopped mid-motion. "What?"

"Can I tell you something? Between girls?"

"Sure..."

Chris's smile widened and her eyes narrowed as she said, "I've never seen Deacon look at anyone like how he looks at you."

A ruddy blush sprung into Reagan's cheeks, her skin turning hot. "Yeah, right. I think you're seeing things."

Chris laughed. "I am! I'm seeing that the boss might have a crush on the rook. Completely inappropriate, of course, but we can't help how we feel."

"I think you need to get your eyes checked," she replied, even though she loved every word that Chris was saying—and hated herself for it.

"Well, I know you saw what I saw earlier between Hondo and Cortez…"

"Okay, that I did see!"

"Thank you! They're been giving each other puppy dog eyes for the past six months, but nobody has said anything about it. I'd totally support that match-up. It's too bad they haven't acted on it."

"Who says they haven't?" Reagan asked, grinning. "I'd bet $20 she's hittin' that."

"Man, you and Luca with the betting…"

Reagan laughed. "What can I say? It's fun. By the way, I haven't heard you disagree with me yet."

"That's because I don't…"


On the men's side, Deacon tossed his helmet into his locker with a loud thud.

"Hey, man. It's over now," Hondo said. "We got the OK from Hicks. Yeah, Cassie would've been injured, but we didn't lose her."

"A casualty may be acceptable by everyone else's standards, but not by mine. The new girl got shot. How can they possibly think we're ready?"

Street chimed in, saying, "Deke, you remember how I was in the beginning. Cassie's not like that. She's got a better head on her shoulders. She can handle this."

"Yeah, it's a good thing, or else we'd have two casualties on our hands."

Street stood in place, frowning. "Dude, what's your problem right now?"

"You want to know what my problem is?" Deacon asked, taking a step toward him. "I think you were too busy staring at the rook's ass instead of covering it."

"Seriously? Then why'd you pair us up, then? Huh?"

Deacon pressed his finger into Street's chest as he said, "So that you could prove me wrong. I guess we can see how well that worked out."

"This is bullshit," Street muttered, swiping away Deacon's hand. He ripped off his gear, chucked his shirt into his locker, and then yanked on a clean one. He grabbed his bag and motorcycle helmet. Before he left, he said in passing to Hondo and Luca, "I'll see you guys at O'Malley's."