"Aggh!" she flinched as her delicate finger accidentally grazed the heated plate of the curling iron and instinctively nursed it in her mouth to dissipate the pain.

Sharon laid the curling iron on the dresser and sighed, her green eyes blazing in irritation. Why was she taking extra measures to look attractive? She wasn't in her twenties for crying out loud. The last time she took extra care of her appearance to get a man's attention was in college when she was infatuated with the guy on top of her political science class… what was his name again? Oh for Pete's sake she can't even remember. But she remembered she liked him because he was smart and he was accomplished in a lot of campus clubs. She prided herself for her discipline to maintain her figure at her age and she was often told she looked ten years younger but all these she did for herself and not for the opposite sex. What has gotten into her? A four-letter name just kept popping into her head to her utter embarrassment.

She was feeling disconcerted after over-hearing Andy and Provenza's conversation in the break room. She did have some feelings for Andy but feelings she was not quite ready to face and nurture. She didn't want to give it a name. All she knew was that she cared a lot for him and his mere presence in her life brought an overwhelming sense of joy, excitement and security... but she was abashed to move their relationship to the next level. To label it as a romantic relationship.

But by all means, even if she wasn't ready to call it that, she would move heaven and hell to keep Andy. Andrea told her it wouldn't hurt to flirt a bit-to let him know she was definitely interested. If this look is not flirting, I don't know what is, sighed Sharon.

She stared at her reflection in the dresser mirror and burst into an exuberant smile. The waves and slight curls she made at the tip of her straight auburn hair looked magnificent. She had been quite busy with all the cases that she had missed several appointments in her salon and the hair that she usually kept at shoulder length were a couple of inches below her shoulders it was beginning to irritate her but now she was glad it was longer so she could create these dazzling waves. She may just keep it permanently…

Her reverie was cut short when there was a knock on the door and before she could reply, Rusty opened the door and gasped as he found her still in her thick pink bathrobe seated by the dresser.

"Sharon! I don't believe this. You're not dressed yet. I thought you were dropping me off at school because my car is in the shop. I'm going to be late!" said Rusty in exasperation.

Rusty's expression changed to one of kind understanding as he noticed five Work-Cocktail dresses and 3 blazers gently laid out on the bed. "Have you got an event to attend to after work?" he asked rhetorically.

"The Neiman Marcus in old rose and the ecru blazer," he suggested.

"Really, you think so? Look… I'm sorry… I lost track of time... you can take car. "

Eyeing her, he said, "Oh you've got a date after work, wear the red dress instead."

"What makes you say that?" asked Sharon. She had not been on a date for ages. Well, the after- work dinner and movies with Andy didn't count as date… or did they?

Rusty looked at her wryly. Several lipsticks were clutched in her hands.

"You can't even decide which lipstick to wear. It means you have a date tonight," laughed Rusty.

He continued, "You're a knockout in red. Wear the Armani. I've got to go. I hope you don't mind me taking the car. I can't be late. I've got a mock defense for my thesis," said Rusty, snatching the keys on the bed beside the dresses.

"Good luck," she yelled but Rusty was already out of the door. I can take a cab to work.

She sighed as she stared at the bunch of lipsticks in her hand. She had to make a decision, or else it will be noon by the time she arrived the police station. Sweet Temptation. Nah! It won't go with the Armani. Wine Passion it is.

Sticky beads of perspiration trickled at the side of Rusty's forehead as he grabbed his backpack, organizer and books from the living room table and rushed out of the condo, running to reach the elevator before it closed but he missed it by a few seconds. He cursed at his luck. He wanted to review the topics he would raise in his mock-defense and ensure he had everything covered before he faced the panel that's why he wanted to arrive a few minutes earlier than schedule.

He dialed his cellphone to reach Lt. Flynn and cursed again when he realized he did not have enough call credits. He debated whether to return to the condo to use Sharon's cell or to wait for the elevator. It was almost back to his floor but his love for his adoptive mother pervaded. He couldn't let her hail a cab in her high-heels and cocktail dress. The call will only take a few minutes after all.

Without further thoughts on the matter, he rushed back to the condo and picked up Sharon's cellphone from the breakfast table and feeling slightly guilty for taking her car, dialed Lt. Flynn's number.

Louie Provenza was in the middle of a tedious paperwork that was almost completely done. He could feel the excitement in his blood and the rush of adrenalin as he stressed the last paragraphs of the conclusion to the report. He could almost feel the heavy burden slowly disappearing from his shoulders when the piercing classical ring of his cellphone's cut through his concentration.

"Good morning, Chief Taylor," he answered noncommittally as he proceeded with his work, listening half-heartedly to the chief of police. Only after he had hit the key of the last punctuation mark of the report did Taylor's words started sinking in. Chief Taylor quietly waited for Provenza's reply to indicate he understood.

After a minute his solemn expression turned to grimace when Taylor's words began to sink in.

"What? Joint investigation… Central?" he echoed.

"Sepulveda…Hacienda Hotel… " he repeated absentmindedly.

Chief Taylor was getting impatient on the other end of the line. "Hurry Up, Provenza. Detective Newman from Central is waiting."

Provenza didn't mind the joint investigation as much as it bothered him to work with Detective Newman. The man was an Ass. He had known him fifteen years and hated his guts all the way. He knew the day was too good to last, he sighed.

That fortune cookie he got from the Chinese restaurant was right, his week will be a bummer.

An idea suddenly occurred to him and suddenly his day was bright again.

"Flynn! Oh Flynn!" he called his friend from the desk across the room.

Flynn really wouldn't mind. Would he?

Minutes later, Andy had arrived at the Hacienda Hotel for the joint investigation. He was led to the pool area where the dead son of a veteran actress was found. The body was still sprawled on the pavement. Flynn noticed he was fully clothed despite being near the pool area. He flashed his badge on the officers in the area and introduced himself. He found the lead detective Det. Newman by the poolside close to the bar. He felt an immediate dislike upon meeting him.

Andy had known him no more than 30 minutes and his fist was threatening to run amok on the bastard's face. He counted to three and exhaled his anger. He watched the bulky middle-aged detective bark unnecessarily at the crime scene specialists collecting evidence at the lanai area of the hotel.

"Newman! Let them do their job! They know what they're doing" he called firmly.

"And what about my job? It's my job to ensure evidence is handled properly," he insisted.

"You can do your job better if you keep your mouth shut and focus on your notes and not on other people's business," he snapped.

Andy shook his head in exasperation and went back to interviewing the bar tender and waiter assigned at the bar in the pool area.

"I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. There were only people dining by the pool until midnight. After which, the dining area was closed," said the waiter.

"The bar may be facing that way, Lt. but it's more than 10 feet away, quite hard to see if there was anyone watching the stars or seated at the lounge," explained the bar tender.

The lanai was adjacent to the pool but the viewing deck where the murder occurred was obscured by the red and pink hibiscus plant deeming the viewing deck secluded from the crowded pool area.

"Flynn, are you done yet? You should finish the questioning within 30-minutes. No wonder it takes your department long to solve a case," said Det. Newman, suddenly standing next to Flynn.

Flynn ignored him, and didn't let his snide remark get to him. His focus went back to the bar tender.

"Let me see the receipts to get the names of the people dining in the pool area between 9-12 at night," said Lt. Flynn.

Detective Newman was about to interrupt but Flynn cut him with a glare to answer the ringing cellular phone. Capt. Raydor's name flashed on the screen. At the sight of her name on the screen, he felt giddy like a schoolboy he almost grinned, but the obnoxious face of Det. Newman kept his expression blank.

"Good morning, captain," he greeted, disappointed that the voice on the other end was Rusty.

"Lieutenant… Uhm… may I ask a favor? Would you mind picking up Sharon from the condo? You see I'm taking her car to school, mine's in the repair shop…"

"No problem, I'm actually nearby," replied Andy. He honestly welcomed the excuse to see
Sharon.

Rusty was ecstatic. His guilt dissipated.

"You would? That's great! She is ready in maybe 15 minutes. You can come now and surprise her. There's still some pancakes for breakfast."

"No, thank you. I just had breakfast. I'm on my way."

He hung up the call and noticed that Det. Newman was listening on his call with a malicious look in his eyes. Flynn ignored his

"Listen, I'm just picking up my Captain and then I'll be back…"

"What? You're swinging out of our duty and leaving me to pick up the slack," he accused.

"No one's leaving you to pick up the slack. I'm coming back. I just need to pick up Captain Raydor. It will only be a few minutes."

"No. I'm coming with you," said Det. Newman.

"You don't have to."

"I want to. Where you go, I go. That way work is equally divided," insisted Det. Newman.

Andy exhaled. His patience was wearing thin.

Sharon made a face at her beautiful reflection on the full-length mirror in her room and decided against the black dress she was wearing under her black blazer.

Still Darth Raydor… she thought… but only sexier, she mused. Rusty may be right, I should wear the red dress.

She glanced at the gold watch on her left wrist. She must get out of the house in five minutes. She scrambled out of the black dress and reached for the red Armani. It easily slipped from her head down to her waist despite the fabric type that clung to the skin, but as she tried to work on the back zipper, she realized it no longer fit her as it used to. To her horror, it was a trifle bit smaller! The fabric clung to the svelte curve of her body much more than she felt decent. She didn't intend to seduce every Tom, Dick, and Harry.

She checked the size and saw it was a size 2. She couldn't even remember when she last wore it, but she knew she just started using a size 4 fairly recently. She tried to undo the zipper and decided to go with Rusty's first choice-the old rose. It did seem sweeter now that she thought about it.

She budge and budged but to her utter dismay, the zipper was stuck and it was half-way on her back. She couldn't close it and she couldn't zip it down either. Oh what a predicament, she thought in despair.

The sudden sound of the doorbell flooded her with relief. She was glad Rusty came back and he could help her out with the zip of her dress.

She opened the door and stared right into the tantalizing eyes of Lt. Flynn. Her heart skipped a beat. She wasn't expecting to see his ruggedly handsome face right in front of her condo. It all seemed like a mirage.

"Good morning, Captain," greeted Andy.

She found herself drowning in his cool water scent she had forgotten how revealing her dress was until she saw a glimpse of what look like desire in his eyes. She tried to fumble for a jacket or robe around her shoulders that wasn't there.

"Lt. Flynn," she managed in greeting albeit her surprise.

She didn't miss his address of her title. He never called her captain unless in the presence of another. She noticed a non-uniformed officer with Andy, his badge displayed on his belt. It took a moment for her to place the officer until Andy introduced him.

"Captain, this is Det Newman. Chief Taylor asked us to work with Central on a case."

Det. Newman greeted Sharon but his smile did not reach his eyes. In fact, they turned a trifle bit cloudy. Then she remembered he was one of the last cases she worked on in Internal Affairs before she moved to Major Crimes.

The need to have Andy help her out of her Armani out-weighs her curiosity on his presence at her doorstep. She needed to get to work and soon but not in her tight-fitting, scandalous Armani.

Should I ask Andy to loosen up the zipper right in front of the other police? Sounds unbecoming. Or should I ask him to leave and then have Andy fix my zipper in private? Sounds better.

"Excuse me, Lt. Flynn. May I ask you to come in and help me with something. Detective, kindly wait for Lt. Flynn at the lobby downstairs," said Sharon in a business-like manner.

Detective Newman hesitated but said nothing before following the Sharon's orders. Andy watched until he was out sight and inside the elevator before turning back to Sharon, grinning from ear to ear.

"Wow. You look very fetching," said Andy.

Maybe his compliment did have an effect on her. She had tripped on the unbuckled strap of her stiletto and fell forward. If not for Andy breaking her fall, her face might have hit the pavement. He caught her right in his arms and steadied her.

"Take it easy, Sharon," smiled Andy.

What is happening to me? I'm no klutz!

His scent was pervading her senses. She must fight it. Was knowing that he had feelings for her heightened her attraction to him?

Sharon was getting agitated by the minute, without acknowledging his compliment she grabbed his arm and dragged him inside.

"Andy, tell me what brings you here and while you explain, please help me with the zipper of this dress. It's stuck" said Sharon.

"I came to pick you up and bring you to work. Rusty called me. He says you've got no car."

He fumbled with the zipper stuck near the clasp of her bra without difficulty and slid it down instinctively, revealing the lacy underwear peeping near the zipper edge before realizing he hadn't asked her if she wanted to zip up or zip down.

Does the zip really go as far down as her butt? Behave Flynn, behave.

Drops of cold perspiration started forming on his forehead.

"I'm sorry. Did you want the zip up or down?" he asked.

Before Sharon could utter a reply, she was already dashing to her room, struggling out of her dress.

"Down. I'm changing out of the dress when the zip got stuck. I didn't realize it doesn't fit me anymore," she called out from the bedroom.

In a minute she was out and into her usual power suits and black pumps. She lost the nerve to wear another dress. She pushed past Andy towards the door.

"It fits perfectly if you ask me," smiled Andy under his breath as he followed close behind her.