He coughed as the bus pulled away. The fumes from the bus hit him. He hated that smell, the smell of that diesel bus and all it represented to him. It was late, and he was ready for bed, more than ready. Andy had been working a case the last few days, the case finally closing earlier in the day. Work had been taxing, but a good distraction. It had kept him from drinking. 19 days now-19 days sober. If felt like he had a mountain to climb to get anywhere, anywhere sober. The six months sober he had lost now seemed like a distant memory. He'd had thoughts, had wondered, really, if he could ever stay sober that long again. One day at a time. It was what he kept telling himself mostly because everyone at the AA meetings kept reminding him of that too. Over the last 19 days, Andy had been attending a lot of AA meetings, at least once a day. Three times, he'd gone to three meetings in a day. It had helped, obviously, as he was still sober. One day at a time.

Andy glanced up as the city bus rumbled down the street, and he coughed again. That stupid bus, the reminder of how badly his life had imploded, was his only mode of transportation right now, independent transportation if it could be called that. He was getting rides to and from work with Provenza, as he was also still living on his couch. Then, if possible, Provenza was dropping him off at his meetings, and Andy was catching the bus home. He'd tried a few meeting locations during his time at Provenza's place, finally liking one group four miles away. It wasn't that far, but late at night, as it was now, he had been riding the bus home. He was a cop and knew what problems could arise in the city at any point, especially late at night after dark. Andy turned and started his walk down the street. Thankfully, Provenza didn't live far from the bus stop, just half a block.

Andy walked slowly, looking down at the ground. He couldn't see much, just his worn shoes. He needed new ones. Just the other day, he'd actually had to use a super glue on the sole of his shoes. They were falling apart. He was completely broke, and the situation wasn't getting better. That wasn't exactly true. It was, in a way. He was paying off his bill at the rehab center. He had another seven months of payments there, which felt like an eternity, but in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that long. He was just grateful they had been willing to work out a payment plan, one that fit his tight budget. When he was done with that payment, he really hoped things would get better. He'd been working as much overtime as he could, but that was tough too. The city was in a budget crunch, and it was hard to get that overtime right now. He'd toyed with the idea of getting a security guard job in the evenings, but right now, he needed to focus on his sobriety. A night job would require transportation, which was tricky now, and it would also require him to miss meetings. Now, he needed the meetings every single night of the week. There would come a time when he didn't need them every night, but now wasn't that time.

Andy glanced up when he saw something dart in front of him and noted a cat was running across the street. The neighborhood was pretty quiet, old, but quiet. He'd joked with Provenza that the guy was so old he must be the last remaining inaugural resident of the street. It was only a joke; the neighborhood wasn't that old, but it was close. As Andy watched the cat disappear into a set of bushes, he looked to Provenza's house, his temporary house, his "Home Sweet Home." Andy stopped in his tracks and sighed loudly. He didn't need this tonight. He just wanted to go to bed.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Andy yelled even though no one was there to hear him. He stomped his foot and quickly regretted that. He'd worn through the shoe so much there wasn't much left to stomp. Doing so could destroy it even more, and he groaned after taking his frustration out on his shoes. Provenza. The guy was driving him nuts. Sure, he was Andy's best friend, but that didn't mean the two always got along. He was very grateful to Provenza, a true friend, but the guy was not thinking clearly. Provenza had been acting like a college kid. Andy had told him that, told him that he looked like some frat boy, alerting Andy with a signal when Andy wasn't welcome at the house. Provenza had recently gotten engaged to his girlfriend, now fiancée, Sharon. He was determined to go though with this wedding, his third wedding-and quickly. Andy stood there and put his hands in his pockets. The garage spotlight was on, the code for Andy. He couldn't go in the house. The garage spotlight was like a frat boy's code of leaving a tie on the door. Provenza and Sharon were there. He wasn't welcome. He knew Provenza was going to spend the evening with Sharon; he spent most evenings with her and had told Andy that when he'd dropped him off at his AA meeting. The problem was that he'd also told Andy they would be going to Sharon's place for the evening with the promise he'd pick up Andy in the morning for work. Something had changed; Provenza was home, and Andy wasn't welcome, at least not yet. He had no idea if it would be another five minutes or something like two hours before the coast was clear to go home.

Andy turned and sighed as he walked back to the bus stop bench. It wasn't the first time this had happened, and he knew he couldn't be too mad. His best friend had been housing him, no questions asked, for weeks. It was just a frustration, one on a list of many, that he had in his life. Basically, Andy was reminded once again that all of his bad decisions, all of them, had brought him to an empty bus bench. Right now, that bus bench was looking pretty tempting for a place to sleep. It was going to be a long night.

Andy flopped on the bench and instantly felt like he could fall asleep. He couldn't, though; he needed to stay awake. He didn't need his wallet stolen or anything even worse while he was waiting for the things to clear at Provenza's frat house. Andy glanced at his watch; it wasn't as late as he'd thought. It was just about 10:00, but after the last few days of work, he wanted to get to bed. He felt his head start to droop, and then, he felt himself dozing off. He stood, hoping to walk it off, trying to keep awake. Just as he did, he looked over to Provenza's house and saw the light was now off; he could go home. He let out a very loud sigh, thankful his best friend was coming through for him. Andy started the walk back to the house, walking slowly, knowing that Sharon was still there. He wanted to give them a minute and had no idea if she was staying the night. She had been doing that some, probably not as often as she would had Andy not been there. As he walked up the driveway, he noted Provenza and Sharon were on the front porch. Andy quietly chuckled; Provenza so didn't care how he looked. He had on his LAPD sweatpants and a paint-stained sweatshirt as he and Sharon spoke on the porch.

"Evening guys," Andy said quietly as he walked up the driveway. Both glanced over at him, and he threw them a small wave. "Don't mind me; I'm going to get a shower and crash."

"Flynn are you still sober?" Provenza asked. He'd been asking him that every night Andy had come home. He knew Provenza wouldn't do it forever, but right now, he actually kind of liked it; it kept him in check, just another way to keep him honest.

"Just coming from my meeting," Andy raised a hand in defense. "Still sober. You two still getting married?" Andy's eyes met Provenza's, and he gave him a smirk. He'd joked with the two about it several times. It was also Sharon's third marriage. Andy wanted the best for his friend, but he smelled disaster. Truthfully, he didn't have the best track record, spotting disaster in his own life, but he felt like things were only going to derail for Provenza. He hoped he was wrong.

"Not only are we getting married, Flynn," Provenza said, gesturing at him with his other hand around Sharon's waist, "we set the date, and you are going to be my best man."

"Wonderful," Andy smiled at him with a sincere smile. "I do wish you two the best. I'd love to hear about it, but I'm going to give you some privacy while I get ready for bed."

"We had to celebrate tonight," Sharon smiled sweetly at Andy as she put her hand on Provenza's chest. "The wedding is coming together. Louie, here, is promising me the world. Of course, we had to celebrate."

"Glad you had a good night," Andy threw them one last wave as he stepped around them into the house. "Night, guys."

"Oh, Flynn," Provenza called to him as he stepped inside. "Almost forgot-message on the counter for you. Raydor called here. She knows you're staying here, and I know she's looking for a reason to fire you. She wants you to call her back, said she was at work until midnight tonight."

"Right, thanks," Andy said with a quick nod. "I have to check in with her. I'm sure it's about that." Andy nodded with a small smile and stepped inside and closed the door. He walked across the small room, throwing his tie on the chair. He'd pick it up in a few minutes. He was trying to keep the place clean. Many of his personal possessions were stored in boxes right now in Provenza's garage. He had no idea when he'd be able to afford his own apartment. It was something he tried not to think about right now, not with his finances in such bad shape.

Andy put his wallet down on the counter and saw the scribbled note, "Flynn-Raydor summoned you, called at 7:15. She's working until midnight." He glanced at the clock again and noted he had plenty of time to call her. He wanted to get this over; he just wanted to go to bed.

"Ahh, Captain Raydor, Detective Flynn," he said when she answered. The phone call wasn't new; it was expected. She'd been checking on him every few days. He'd noted she had odd working hours, as now, calling her at this hour of the evening, but FID had to work odd hours. He grumbled out his title, knowing he should have been promoted months ago, but his drinking had gotten in the way of that. He hoped that, in time, he could eventually earn that promotion. He'd met all the other requirements of the promotion, but he had to improve his behavior. That was a work in progress. "I'm still sober, just home from a meeting. I'm sure that is why you called."

"Thank you for the update, Detective. I called your division first, earlier this evening. I know your team has had a case and hoped to still catch you at work. Sorry for the late call, calling you at home, but I do need to speak to you tomorrow. I have some paperwork for you to sign, specifically the details of the anger management course you are required to attend next week. I was in several meetings today and only got to my stack of work earlier this evening. Your course paperwork was on the top of my pile."

"Right, sure," he said through gritted teeth. Anger management-he hated it, but he had no choice. Right now, he needed to keep his anger under control. That class, along with several other similar stipulations, was what was keeping him on the job right now. He'd attend the class and would keep his head down, hoping to get back on track with his sobriety and job with the LAPD. "I'll stop by to sign it tomorrow."

"8:00, first thing, please," she said to him. "My assistant has to send it over by 9:00 to reserve your spot in the course."

"I'll be there by 8:00," he sighed. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you for returning the call, Detective," she said.

"Yeah, I'm sure talking to me was top of the list of annoyances today," Andy said in a slightly irritated tone.

"No, actually, having my toilet overflow and ruin the flooring was the most irritating moment of my day," Raydor said quickly. "A plumber who didn't show is right up there too."

"I just do that myself," Andy said with a chuckle. "It's not that hard."

"Hmm, well, this toilet is on its last leg, has been for months. Apologies," she sighed. "It's late, and it's not something I should be discussing with you, my plumbing issues. Again, sorry for the call at home."

"It's fine," he waved his hand in the air. "19 days now," he said.

"Continue working the program. Bye, Detective," she said and hung up the phone.

Andy turned around and looked at Provenza's old, worn couch. It was sad-looking, but it was also a wonderful sight. It was more couch than he had right now. One day at a time. He'd gotten through this day, and tomorrow was a new day. He sighed, thinking about how the day had to start in Raydor's office.