Chantal spun around and her eyes widened in delight, when she saw Steve slowly enter the small interrogation room before reaching his hand out to shake hers.

"Chantal, we haven't been formally introduced. I am Inspector Stephen Keller. I am Lieutenant Stone's partner."

The teenage girl shook his hand timidly, before sitting down on the corner of the small table.

"I am so sorry about what happened, Inspector Keller. I was afraid that…that you were friends of Dylan. I never wanted for you to get hurt."

Smiling at the girl, Steve slid into one of the guest chairs, before resting his injured arm on the tabletop.

"You can call me Steve. And don't worry about it. It wasn't your fault."

Chantal dark brown eyes stared at him for a while, before a nervous smile spread on her young face.

Steve had a hard time envisioning her being fourteen. Remembering what Sandra Orelli had said a couple days ago about her nearly starving to death at her mother's hands, he felt bile rise in his throat.

"Did you get hurt bad? You weren't moving when your partner came. I was afraid you might be dead.", she wanted to know before sliding a little bit closer.

Steve was surprised at her openness and level of caring, considering the girl supposedly spent the last four months out on the streets. As it was, her clothes weren't overly dirty and her hair was brushed back and braided into a neat ponytail. Wherever she was staying at, it seemed that some good soul out there took great care of her.

Steve shook his head and wiggled his thumb and index finger on his injured hand as much as the cast allowed.

"I am fine. Just a few scrapes and bruises. What about you? I saw you almost got hit. I am glad the driver missed you."

"Me too. That was pretty close.", Chantal admitted, before pointing towards the other side of the Homicide bullpen, "You are here to talk to me about Mavis, aren't you…Steve?"

He was beginning to like her straightforwardness and smiled broadly.

"Nope. Not me. I am just here to keep you company. I am officially on medical leave. But I thought I'd swing by to check up on you. Are you hungry?"

Steve could tell that Chantal wasn't prepared for his question and hesitated briefly, before shaking her head. His psychology training told him that she was uncomfortable in the police environment, so much that she wouldn't allow herself to let down her guard, even for a meal.

Remembering what Scott had said about her infatuation with him, Steve decided to prod a bit more.

"Are you sure? It's after six already and you've been here for hours…I know I am hungry, so you must be starving. How about we make it a pizza dinner date? Just you and me? I can have a pepperoni pizza delivered. How does that sound?"

Chantal's eyes widened in excitement as she studied his features, still somewhat unsure of whether he was being truthful. Finally, she nodded slowly.

"Alright. A dinner pizza it is."

Steve gave her his most charming smile, before standing up grabbing the nearby phone to call Hank's Pizza Joint for a delivery. Watching his every move, Chantal had sat down in one of the guest chairs right next to his.

When Steve finished the phone call, she crossed her arms in front of her chest, before clearing her throat.

"You are too nice to be a cop, Steve. Cops are never this nice."

Deciding to pour himself a glass of water from the carafe on the table, he smiled at Chantal before sitting down next to her once again.

"Oh, believe me. Most cops are very nice guys. But people are conditioned to be nervous around them. They think that whenever we show up, they're in trouble- but in reality, we might just be there to try and help them."

"Is that why you were looking for me? To try and help me too?"

Knowing that he was entering dangerous territory, both legally and emotionally, Steve took a sip of water before answering.

"Yes. My partner and I were trying to keep you safe. He will explain to you in detail what this is all about as soon as he gets done with-"

"Mavis's parents. I know. I saw them when the other man brought me here. Her dad is vicious. He used to beat her all the time."

Biting his lip, Steve looked down before inhaling slowly.

"Please make sure that you tell my partner about all of this. He will be able to press charges and get her father locked away. I can't discuss the case with you right now unfortunately."

Chantal nodded understandingly and pointed at his injured arm.

"Hey, nobody has written their name on your cast yet. Can I be the first one, Steve?"

Relieved at the change of topic, he reached for the pen in his breast pocket and handed it to Chantal. Aside from the therapeutic aspect of drawing, he felt that the simple gesture would allow for an even better foundation of trust. And maybe, somewhere in there, allowing Chantal to behave like a normal child her age might break other barriers in her mind too.

"Have at it. You can draw all over it, if you like."

As Chantal began to turn his cast into an art canvas with growing enthusiasm, Steve leaned back and closed his eyes for a second. Aside from the fact that his hip felt like it was about to become disjointed, the bruises on his left shoulder were beginning to rear their ugly head. Combined with the throbbing in his skull, Steve was missing the pain meds from the hospital already.

"Do you see your parents often?"

The question woke him up from his day dreaming and Steve shifted a bit, hoping to keep his lower back from stiffening up any more. He wasn't overly excited to enter that topic, but at least it beat avoiding the dreaded case discussion.

"No…I think the last time I saw them was six years ago."

Chantal looked up from her drawing and frowned.

"That's a long time not to see your parents. Are they mad at you?"

Something told Steve that the girl was channeling her own difficult past through his. Lowering his eyes, he nodded slowly.

"Something like that."

"Why are they mad at you?"

Chantal glanced back down at her drawing, but her attention remained on the young Inspector.

"Oh, it's kind of complicated. Call it a difference of opinion. About life. And integrity. And free speech. My parents grew up in a different era, with different beliefs. I guess in the end, they didn't want to listen to what I had to say, as much as I didn't want to listen to what they had to say."

Steve felt a tickle, when the pen went off the cast and hit his lower arm.

"Sorry about that. I was trying to draw a unicorn but the horn got too long I think."

Chantal giggled and gave him a relaxed and cheery smile. At least they were getting somewhere. He returned the smile and tried to look at his cast when she used her body to gently lean over his injured arm.

"You can't look at it until it's finished, Steve!", she warned half-heartedly and sat back up," You've gotta promise me that."

Steve swallowed hard when his mind envisioned what Chantal must have been going through the last few weeks. And the months and years of her life prior to Mavis' tragic death. There was something about her innocent giggle that touched his soul in a way nobody ever had before.

"Alright, I won't look. I promise.", he pledged, just to feel the young girl rest her head against his upper arm, as she continued her drawing.

"You smell good. And I like your tie. It's pretty. I like the pink in it. You really don't look like a cop.", she mumbled and he could feel his cast vibrate a little bit as she added more items to her drawing.

"Thanks. I got that tie from a friend in college a few years ago. It was a going away gift of sorts.", he responded and felt his eyelids grow heavy again.

Chantal's quiet singsong and her warm face against his shoulder made him drowsier than he cared to admit.

Inhaling deeply, Steve closed his eyes and let his head sink to his chest. Second later, he fell into an exhaustion induced sleep.