Just want to take another opportunity to thank all the lovely readers and reviewers out there. You're wonderful. Little disclaimer, my 2 ½ year old (read: unbelievably adorable, best adventure ever) son has declared war on bedtime. I've kept writing throughout the nightly parent vs. child battlefront, but there may be a touch more typos/grammatical errors than my usual due to resulting sleep deprivation. Good thing sleep is overrated. ;) My apologies in advance. Hope everyone is enjoying the weekend!

l1ttlebutf1erce: Coming your way. Thanks for the love!

TheOneder5: You got it. FYI, ever since all our smackdown WWE references, whenever I type "brother", I hear it in my head "broooottthhhhhheeerrr". (Think Hulk Hogan.)

(x)

7 Years Prior

The threadbare canvas awning provided little relief from the sheets of rain falling down around him, but even a little coverage was better than nothing. Harvey Bullock leaned against the storefront of the pawn shop on fourth street, arms crossed, watching the skies rain down. The streetlamp above him emitted a faint orange glow. Its last bulb change had probably taken place around the same time that the Macarena hit #1 on the charts. In contrast, to his immediate right a flickering pink neon sign ("We Buy Gold At Top Prices") burned brighter than the sun. When he looked over his shoulder, he could see Johnson Pickering just inside the pawn shop, gently trying to extract answers from their lead.

The minute Harvey saw the way the girl behind the counter stared at Johnson and his big dumb dimples he knew he needed to make himself scarce. At least it was a far cry from the reaction Harvey got out of her. The second the girl saw him her eyes widened like saucers but for the opposite reason. The way he barged in there, the way he ran his mouth...

Harvey squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. He swung his line of vision down the street and then back through the smudged, fogged window of the pawn shop.

The bell at the top of the door jingled as Harvey walked back inside. Johnson had out his notepad and scribbled down every other word the girl said about the explosions experts she saw cozying up to members of the Russian mob. Harvey perused the shop, looking for an umbrella. When he came up short, he walked back to the counter. He lifted a second hand but sharp-looking brown fedora with the world's tiniest white feather tucked into its thin black band.

When Johnson's conversation with the girl slowed to a natural pause, Harvey asked, "How much for the hat?"

She answered. "That one's eighteen dollars."

Harvey pulled a crumpled twenty out of his wallet and handed it to her while he placed the fedora atop his head. When she accepted the money, he tucked his hair behind his ears and checked himself out in the mini-mirror set up by the hat stand. He said, "Could I get the change in quarters, please?"

He left Johnson with the lead and hunched down inside his coat and underneath the brim of his hat as he ran to the pay phone down the street. Upon hearing the quarters successfully collect into the coin box, he dialed and listened to the muted rings sound through the phone line.

Until it was picked up. "Hello?"

"Hey," he said against the steady rustle of the rain hitting his hat and jacket.

Madeline's voice softened. "Hey."

"Look, uh…" He stared down into the overlapping ripples made by the raindrops as they pattered into the mud puddle beneath him. "I'm sorry about the way things went down today."

"I'm sorry, too."

Harvey hadn't even realized the intensity of the stress knotted up inside of him until he felt the tension in his muscles release. "I'm on the street right now, but we oughtta wrap things up in another hour or two, barring any unanticipated criminal theatrics."

"When you finish doing your Thin Blue Line thing, you wanna come by?"

He glanced down at his watch. "Think you'll still be up?"

"I can stay up if I've got the right motivation."

"Anything extra I can do to seal the deal?"

Madeline spoke with the tone of a woman revealing a secret vice. "I need a piece of that blackberry peach pie they serve at the diner down the street."

Harvey half-smiled as he watched rain drip down from the brim of his hat. "I'm your guy."

(x)

A little after twelve-thirty in the morning, Madeline answered her door to find Harvey standing there, soaked with rain water from head to toe and lazily holding up a brown paper bag from Lucky's.

He smirked. "Harvey Bullock's Twenty-Four-Hour Catering Service. We deliver."

"Rain or shine," she said, accepting the bag from him. She pointed to his fedora. "Nice hat."

As she closed the door behind him, he said. "It was on sale."

Madeline got his collared shirt into the dryer, and Harvey relaxed on her couch, still wearing his rumpled work pants and undershirt. She curled up on the couch across from him, before digging into the generous helping of blackberry peach pie. She closed her eyes as she ate the flaky dessert made of fruit so soft it could be cut with a spoon.

He made short work of his own dessert and spoke against a large spoonful of pie. "So … you still mad at me?"

"Maybe a little. But I had a chance to cool off and think things over." She took another bite and chewed thoughtfully before she said, "It wasn't right for me to leave like I did. Just the way you stepped up into my space…" She stopped to choose her words carefully. "...upset me."

From the way his face went slack, Madeline realized that it wouldn't have mattered what words she used. He set aside his plate. Then he said softly, "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You don't scare me."

That earned her much needed eye contact.

"Some parts of this city scare me," she said. "The shit they spin on the six 'o clock news scares me…" She finished off the last bite of pie and placed the leftover styrofoam container on the coffee table next to her. She inched a little closer to him. "Sometimes your precinct scares me. When I think about … what it must be doing to you." She repeated. "But you don't scare me."

Harvey gently reached out and pulled her to him. Madeline let herself be pulled and relaxed her head against his chest. She glanced up to see Harvey staring forward in a far-removed way as he ran his hand through her hair.

She rested her ear against his chest and listened to his heartbeat. "I know you've been… stressed."

"That ain't no excuse."

Madeline didn't disagree with the statement. "I know you must have felt backed into a corner." She said, "And I know what you did… you did it for me."

Harvey said, "Not like I go around doin' that sorta thing for just anyone, in case you were wondering."

Madeline closed her eyes and nodded. "You know, I've had some experience listening to people talk when they're…" She used his words. "Up against a wall. If you ever want to tell me about it."

He repeated something he'd said earlier. "You really think you want to know about that?"

Which was his way of saying 'I don't want to talk about it.' Ironically, Harvey responded in about the same way as most her clients did. So she did what she usually did in those circumstances and took her best educated guess. "I bet calling out a detective in the middle of your precinct created more than just a problem between the two of you."

She moved to glance up at him, and he looked back, appearing mildly surprised by what she'd spoken into the room. He responded in a voice as dry as the Sahara. "You might say it kept the workplace lively this week."

"Mine, too. I got summoned into Warden Grey's office pretty much right after it happened."

Madeline felt Harvey's body tense beneath her. She didn't need to look up to know that he was frowning. "What'd that pillbox have to say about it?"

"Oh, you know, just threatened to fire my ass should I ever dare to bring someone's innocence to light ever again."

"Guess you'll have to let lawmen like me worry about that."

"I would," she said, glancing back up at him. "If there were any other lawmen like you."

Though he must have heard the compliment, he kept his focus on the topic at hand. "If you're smart, you'll play it safe over there in Alcatraz. When you get tired of playing their game and you want bend the rules? Not break them but -bend- them? You let me know. Pull me in first." He looked at her intensely. "Folks who try that Hi-Ho Silver, Lone Ranger foolishness? Those are the ones who wind up…" He made a short noise of discomfort. "They wind up no place you wanna be. That's basic."

Madeline watched him. "Okay, Tonto. I hear you." She relaxed against him again. "Not like I'm gonna have a chance to go rogue any time soon, not if the warden has anything to say about it."

"Yeah, well. That's how it goes with the asshats they've got running this messed up city."

That reminded her of her original point about his workplace. "Your captain didn't ream you out, did she?"

"Nah." He fully stretched out his arms and pressed out his chest. "Guess all my careful work puttin' in brownie points with her paid off."

Madeline sat up and sent him a mischievous smile. "Think she came down with a case of Harvey fever?"

He barked a loud laugh at that. "Hell no. I am way too big a pain in her ass for things to go down that road." He interlocked the fingers of his hands and rested them behind his head. "She said she likes you though."

"Too bad I'm spoken for. Could you let her down easy for me?"

Harvey remained stuck on the first part of her statement. "Spoken for," he echoed. "Is that what the kids are callin' it?"

Madeline stood up from the couch and cleaned up their plates. "You tell me. You're the one on the streets all day."

"Let's see we've got… LTR. Cuffing. On a thing."

"LTR?"

"Long term relationship," he said without missing a beat. "Boyfriended up. Oh and …" He put some sass into it. "You my bae, boo."

She raised her game another level. "Well, I'd hate to have all the ladies around town think you my bae, boo. That might cut your CI list in half."

Harvey widened his eyes at her. She gave herself a mental standing ovation, and she bet it showed up on her face. She'd managed to render him speechless. Though of course, nothing ever kept him quiet for long. "Hey, you want the right kind of information you gotta go to the wrong side of the woods, sweetheart. But don't go makin' yourself sick with jealousy just yet." He stood up and followed her into the kitchen. "They can look but they can't touch." When Madeline laughed, he added. "This body is a weapon. It ain't for amateur hour."

Madeline tossed out the foam containers. "If you ever come through here with angry scratch marks, I'll know you told them you were 'LTR.'" She put the rest of the dishes in the dishwasher and washed and dried her hands.

Harvey leaned against the doorway of her kitchen. "Don't worry. That's strictly your department."

She looked at him. "All right, I'm done talking. You gonna take me to bed or what?"

Without warning, Harvey grabbed her up underneath her legs and lifted her onto the counter top above the dishwasher. Apparently, he chose to go with 'or what'.