Sharon POV

"Captain, I think I've got something."

Amy's voice contained urgency that captured my attention. We'd been going over our leads, the rest of the squad tossing about ideas as to how to proceed next, all while Amy was on hold, and she's still on the phone, but she's scribbling furiously, and all eyes are on her.

I really hope it's a strong lead because the clock is ticking on our search for Janie's identity.

We did catch her killer a little bit ago, but that was a small consolation considering the rest of the blanks that still need to be filled.

Because her killer, while a sad and despicable excuse for a human being, doesn't have anything to do with the pain and abuse that brought her to Los Angeles. That brought Alice here.

He's just a cowardly man who took his eyes off the road for a moment, and then panicked after running over what he says he thought was a dog.

"Did you stop and look?" Andy shouted at him, after the man's sobbing confession.

"No, but I thought…it seemed like…"

"It was a little girl, you asshole! She died on the street - alone - because of you!"

"Mr. Caldwell," I took over, moving close to Andy in an effort to silently calm him. "I need you to write down exactly what happened late Wednesday night, and then what steps you took yesterday to cover up your crime…"

"My crime?" he interrupted. "I just…I was trying to fix my truck. I just…"

"You got home around eleven p.m. Then what? Did you watch TV? Did you go to bed? What?" Andy asked with impressive composure, and I like that he's able to stay focused, to see where I'm going with my instructions.

"I watched Jimmy Fallon."

"That starts at 11:35. What did you do before that?"

"I don't know. I got home, and went inside and it was coming on."

"We have you on traffic cams twenty minutes from your house at 10:42," I informed him.

"Okay."

"Okay, so that means you got home before 11:35," Andy said with barely masked irritation. "Unless you stopped somewhere else first. Did you stop somewhere?"

The man started to squirm, and that's when I knew we had him.

"Yes," he admitted at last.

"You stopped at a car wash, didn't you? You wanted to hose off the blood before you went home."

"Yes."

"And that's because you knew you didn't hit a dog, isn't it? You washed your truck in an effort to hide the evidence that you mowed down that little girl!"

From that point, what little fight was left in Caldwell drained out completely. Andrea's going to plead him out. Vehicular manslaughter, ten years.

"It's not enough," Andy said under his breath as we headed back to the murder room. "That's all the time Janie had on this earth…he deserves more than that."

"It was a horrible accident," I soothed. "He wasn't drinking, or driving recklessly…his biggest mistake was trying to cover it up instead of stopping to help. But Dr. Morales said she died on impact, so even if he had…"

"I know," he responded sadly.

"You did great with him," I encouraged, putting a hand on his back so that he paused before we entered the room. "You were angry, but you held it together and got him to admit more than he wanted to."

He took a deep breath and leaned back against the wall, presumably content to continue our private conversation rather than immediately joining the others.

"I just followed your lead," he responded, finally smiling at me, just a little, and I was struck by how handsome he is. I mean, I know it, but sometimes, like this particular moment, it really hits me hard.

"Did you get any sleep last night?" I asked, well aware of the fact that I'm once again standing too close, but unable to resist.

"Some, but it wasn't easy," he admitted.

"I know," I acknowledged with a nod, but then he said, "Not because of the case."

"No?"

"I kept thinking about what it is you want to say to me."

His tone, low and rumbling, is unexpectedly sensuous. I mean, we're standing outside of Major Crimes, and yet I'm suddenly looking into his rich brown eyes and thinking thoughts I shouldn't be thinking.

Damn Emily and her youthful idealism.

See, it's her fault I'm in this situation. Or at least, I'm going to blame her, since I was previously in a dedicated state of denial.

But she called me yesterday, while Andy and I were taking a quick lunch break.

"I know you're working, but I hope you have a few minutes," she said breathlessly. With Emily, it's always as if she's in the middle of a marathon, and she only has mere seconds to release thousands of words before it's time to start running again.

"I do," I replied, smiling at the sound of her voice. I mouthed Emily to Andy and he nodded encouragingly before continuing to eat. "Is everything alright, honey? It's not like you to call in the middle of the day."

"I'm perfectly wonderful, I promise. It's you who has me worried."

"Me? Why?"

"Rusty says your dinners with Andy Flynn have dwindled to few and far between, and I'm wondering what's going on there. I'd thought maybe you were on the path to getting me a stepdad, but now I'm not so sure."

"Emily," I said in exasperation, although whether it's her or Rusty that I'm feeling that way towards, I'm not sure. Both, probably. I held up a finger to Andy as I got up from the chair, silently excusing myself, and then I went out onto the sidewalk.

"What?" she was saying unapologetically during that time. "I mean, you were going out with him - a lot -and he's a nice guy, so…why the abrupt pumping of the brakes? Dad's out of the picture, and it's even almost official, so I'm not getting it."

"You don't have to get anything," I chastised. "Andy and I are only friends."

"Yeah, Rusty might've bought that line - oh, and for the record, he really didn't - but you forget that I know you, and you don't just have dinner with friends nearly every night of the week. So do you want to spend our precious few minutes of conversation time in denial, or can we just go straight to the good stuff?"

That's where I made my critical error. Probably because I don't really have any girl friends, and when it comes to things like how I feel about Andy, I've been keeping it all locked inside, so when my daughter asked, I decided, who better to trust with my innermost feelings?

"Okay, you're kind of right. Not about the stepdad part," I said quickly, and then I sighed and continued. "I like him. And we were having fun together. And then…he kissed me."

"How dare he! Oh my God, Mom, did you call the cops?" she said smartly. She's got a sarcastic wit that reminds me of Andy.

"It's not funny, Emily."

"Shh, I'm trying to do the math," she said innocently.

"What math?"

"Three months' worth of going to dinner, let's say at a minimum of four times a week, that's at the very least forty-eight dates, probably more like fifty something."

"Okay…"

"So how many dates do you usually require before letting the guy give you a goodnight kiss? Because I'm not sure how it worked when you were dating Dad, but things move a lot faster these days."

I wanted to be irritated with her, but I had to laugh.

"Oh, so you do still have your sense of humor," she chuckled. "Good, because I was afraid maybe Dad sucked all the life out of you. So tell me the scoop with the dashing Andy Flynn. I mean, did you really shoot him down just because he kissed you? Was it that bad?"

I looked through the café window to where he was sitting inside, and I thought about how it felt to kiss him.

"No, it was that good," I admitted carefully.

I expected her to tease me some more, but she didn't. She went quiet for a minute, which isn't like her at all, and then she said with wonder, "You really like him."

"Yes."

"And you're scared."

I never imagined that she would be so intuitive about my feelings, so maybe it was her insight that had me answering honestly without forethought.

"Yes."

Because I am.

There's so much involved with any potential relationship that I haven't ventured into this arena since Jack, and now there's Andy, and I do really like him, and he works for me, and there's Rusty to think about, and there's the possibility of getting hurt or disappointed or worse yet, I could be the one doing those things to him, and it just feels like so much, and isn't it just easier to avoid such entanglements altogether?

"Oh, Mom…" she said softly, and I wondered how I let things get turned around, how we were having a conversation where she's my confessor, where she's comforting me.

"It's fine," I said quickly in an attempt to cover for my momentary slip. "I…"

"It's not fine," she interrupted. "You've always taught us that having courage doesn't mean you're never afraid, it just means you don't let your fear stop you. And Mom, you're the most courageous person I know."

I felt tears burn my eyes at both the compliment and the knowledge that she must've actually paid attention to some of my lectures, and at that moment, Andy caught my eye through the window. He moved like he was going to tap his watch, but he must have noticed my expression, because he immediately stood up and tossed some cash on the table before exiting the café.

"I'm not going to pull a Ricky and call you lonely," Emily was saying. "But isn't it more fun being with Andy than it is being alone?"

By this time, Andy was right next to me, asking quietly, "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine," I whispered, and Emily heard me because she said, "Wait, are you with him right now? You are, aren't you?"

"Yes, and I really need to get back to work, so maybe we can finish this discussion tonight?"

"Or you could take Andy out to dinner tonight, and tell him you were an idiot for pushing him away," she countered, the smile back in her voice.

"Emily…"

"Think about it, Mom. Because you're also the smartest person I know, so don't be dumb about this. There's risk involved with anything worth having. "

My daughter the philosopher.

But she made good points. That's not the only reason why I asked Andy out to dinner last night, but it is what prompted me to lay the groundwork for a conversation with him. About us, I mean. I brought it up at dinner, even though it wasn't the right time for the actual discussion, simply to avoid allowing myself an out.

If he knows I want to talk, then we'll make sure it happens.

If I only think it, I might back down later.

What I hadn't expected was for him to be so worried about it. Surely he doesn't think it'll be anything bad, does he?

But as I stood with Andy in the hallway outside of Major Crimes, standing twice as close as would be professional, I could see the concern on his face, and before I could formulate a response to his statement that I'm the one who kept him up last night, he added with a rueful smile, "I tend to fall on the side of pessimism when it comes to my personal life."

I guess he does expect me to deliver bad news.

Maybe I should've just jumped in with both feet last night.

I considered it, but his head is wrapped up in Alice and Janie right now. I don't want to complicate his life. And honestly I'm not sure how he'll feel about what I have to say. I mean, it's a delicate situation, since I'm his boss, and maybe he's content with us only being friends.

Even if he wanted something more two months ago, maybe he's changed his mind.

This is why I hate dating, I reminded myself. The ambiguity of it all.

Although oddly enough, I haven't been this tied up in knots over a man since I first started going out with Jack. All of the dates post-Jack were just dates, without any sense of anticipation or excitement and certainly not any arousal, and I think I got used to not feeling.

That's what has me scared, I suppose.

With Andy, I've felt all of those things, ten times over.

"I was trying to make it easy on you, by waiting for the case to be over," I told him quietly. "But I don't want to be responsible for keeping you up at night."

"Don't feel bad," he said, his smile broadening into something more playful. "Last night wasn't the first time I've lain awake thinking about you, and I'm sure it won't be the last."

His suggestive words caught me by surprise, and so did the rush of warmth that flooded through me at the insinuation, and I found myself returning his smile and getting completely lost in his gaze.

"Captain," Lieutenant Provenza said as he came barreling through the door, causing me to jump back in an effort to quickly put more distance between us.

"Yes, Lieutenant," I said, my voice sounding breathy even to my own ears, and I hoped that he didn't pick up on it, or ask why Andy and I were hovering together in the hallway.

He lingered for a moment, his eyes going back and forth between us, but then he fixed his stare on me and said, "Tao got something off the string pack."

So that's how we ended up back in the murder room, going over the latest leads, while Amy is tracking something down via phone call.

The thing Lieutenant Tao discovered was that the string pack was one of a hundred purchased for a church summer camp held a year ago this past summer, in Stafford, Virginia.

"It's not an M-state, but it's close to one, and it fits with Alice having the Virginia Piedmont dialect," he reasoned. "The girls could've lived in southern Maryland and gone to camp in Stafford."

"Get the church on the phone," I stated, trying not to get too excited about the potential lead.

"I tried," he admitted. "It doesn't exist anymore."

"For all we know, the girl picked up that string pack at the local Goodwill," Provenza added.

"Local is the key word, Lieutenant," I said as I wrote Stafford on the board.

"You're still probably talking about a fifty mile radius, at least, Captain," Julio said.

"It's something," I insisted, casting a glance at Andy. He's just taking it all in, and I can tell the wheels in his mind are working at high speed.

That's when Amy called out that she had something, and after a brief pause, we continued our rundown until she was ready.

The waitress from the café was a bust. Yes, she saw a little girl, and yes, she asked her why she was alone, but the girl lied and said she was waiting for her mother to get off work at the bus depot, and she never offered her name.

The dump of the pay phone only solidified what we already know - Janie came to L.A. in search of Alice. It was Alice's cell number that was dialed during the time we know Janie was on the bench in the bus station, but no other calls were made within that time frame.

"Okay, get this," Amy said at last, a smile on her face as she slammed down the phone. "The unicorn comes from Build-A-Bear."

"Great, a national chain," Provenza grumbled. Sometimes I want to smack the back of his head but so far, I've always managed to hold back. One of these days though…

"It is," Amy agreed. "But while there's a few dozen standard animals stocked everywhere, not all stores get the same specialty animals. And this unicorn was only released to three stores."

"Is it too much to hope for one of those stores to be in Stafford?" Andy asked.

"I'd be doing cartwheels if that were the case," Amy replied, but she was still smiling, so I can tell her news is good.

"Which three cities?" I prompted.

"Mexico City. Calgary. And Fredericksburg."

"Virginia?" Andy asked quickly, moving towards Amy's desk where she's pointing at her monitor, where she has Google maps zoomed in on Virginia.

"Uh huh," she agreed. "Which just happens to be twelve miles from Stafford."

Everyone started talking at once, posing different possibilities, including the idea that Bug may have been wrong about Alice being from an M-state, or maybe she used to live in one, but then moved to Virginia, or maybe Janie moved to Virginia after Alice left home, and I was trying to write down all of the ideas while my detectives continued to brainstorm, and that's when Taylor entered the room.

"So you caught the driver of the hit and run," he announced in that flamboyant, pompous way of his, almost like he's standing at a pulpit.

"We did," I agreed. "We've handed him off to DDA Hobbs."

"I guess the chief can rest easy now, knowing his elite squad managed to put away a man for…wait, what was it again? Vehicular manslaughter?"

His heavy sarcasm tells me that I haven't escaped rebuke for commandeering the case from Traffic, so I turned to face him head-on, putting my hands on my hips.

"Yes, sir. Of a ten year old girl."

"Uh huh. And tell me again, Captain. What is it about this case that made it a Major Crime?"

With my peripheral vision, I could see Andy approaching, and I heard Julio's chair scrape as well as Mike's, so I know my squad is rallying around behind me in support.

"The victim in this case is related to a victim in one of our previous cases," I stated.

Taylor began reading over the board, and I know what he's going to say before he says it.

"This case is closed. You said so yourself. It's time to move on."

"We're still trying to get a name for our victim," I rationalized.

"That's a luxury we can't afford. You could spend the next six months trying to identify this girl and the truth is, we may never know."

"We won't know if we don't look," Andy spoke up, his voice almost menacing.

Taylor whirled around to glare at him, and I quickly intervened.

"Chief, can I speak with you for a moment in my office?"

Taylor continued to stare down Andy, so I moved towards him, breaking their eye contact and gesturing towards my office door.

He reluctantly followed me inside, and that's when the dressing down began.

"Captain, I make the call on which cases this squad works, not you. Pulling a case from Traffic…"

"We solved it in a day," I interjected. "Officer Casey had one page of poorly taken notes, and if I'd left it with him, you and I both know the driver never would've been found."

"Maybe," he conceded. "But this continued search for the girl's name…the department doesn't have the resources to pay its top detectives overtime while they play Marco Polo with a dead runaway."

His callousness made me bristle, and he picked up on it right away because he started backtracking.

"I'm not saying it shouldn't happen. I'm just saying it can't. We have to focus our energies on actual cases, current cases."

"Of which we're lacking at the moment," I pointed out. "What would it hurt to continue our search, just until we're called out again?"

"You're called out," he stated flatly.

"Excuse me?"

"Robbery Homicide picked up a case last week that just an hour ago turned into a serial, so now it's yours. The files will be here in a few minutes, so clear your board and box up the evidence, and get your eye on the ball, Captain."

He nodded sharply and then left my office, and for a moment, I couldn't do anything but stand there and stare after him.

I understand that we have priorities, but what I can't understand is why these girls seem to be no one's priority. Crimes were committed against them, heinous crimes, and the perpetrator needs to be punished, as well as stopped from executing further abuse.

"Captain?" Andy questioned, knocking on the frame of my open door as he stepped inside my office.

"I'm sorry," I said sadly.

"We both knew this would happen," he said as he approached me.

He stopped mere inches in front of me, and as I caught his eye, I was surprised to see resolve rather than disappointment, and I spent an extra moment just looking at him.

That seems to be my habit lately, and maybe that should bother me but it doesn't.

"Here," he offered, holding up a slip of paper.

I looked at him questioningly, but when he didn't respond, I glanced down at the paper.

Request for Vacation Time, it said at the top. An official form, filled out and signed by Lieutenant Andy Flynn, time off beginning tomorrow.

"You're going to finish the investigation," I said, once again holding his gaze and feeling a strange flood of emotion.

He's going to take vacation days in order to find Janie and Alice's identities. What kind of man does that? A very good one. An honorable and dedicated one, with a strong sense of justice.

"If you sign off on it, then yes," he answered, flashing me that little crooked smile of his that I've come to love. "I figure the best way to find answers is to go to the source."

"You're going to Virginia? But we're only creating theories. We don't have anything concrete yet."

"I know, but I think it's worth a boots on the ground effort. It'll either work or it won't, but at least I'll know I tried."

I wish we weren't having this conversation in my office because I suddenly found myself wanting to kiss him more than just about anything. And I'm also missing him already, even though he hasn't yet left.

"Okay," I agreed, reaching across my desk for a pen and then hastily scrawling my signature on the dotted line. "When are you leaving?"

"I'll have to make arrangements. Probably first thing in the morning."

"Okay," I said again, still feeling slightly out of sorts by how much I hate the idea of him traveling across the country, and yet amazed by his determination.

"So maybe we can talk tonight?" he posed, a sheepish smile crossing his face. "Because the idea of not seeing you and not knowing…"

Yes, I definitely want to kiss him.

Almost enough to say to hell with the rules.

But instead, I smiled and said, "Yes, tonight sounds good."

TBC...