I've been toying with the idea of Chris's downward spiral... what if it had been much worse? Can Street pull her back?


Street was just about to lock up the house he shares with Luca when his phone started ringing. He was immediately worried. No one would call him at this hour if it weren't important. They already had been up too late finishing the movie.

Checking the caller ID he frowns. "Hey, did you check your watch before calling?" he picks up the line and can hear Tony shuffle. His former patrol partner seems nervous.

Street gets impatient and even more worried when Tony isn't answering.

"Okay, spit it out. What ever you did, we can fix it!" Street paces the living room.

"Listen I am on Wilshire near La Brea, running a traffic stop. And I need you to come and get her because brining her in…" Tony rattles out and Street is instinctively already reaching for his jacket and keys. "I'll be right there!"

There is only one woman Tony would call him about, right? And that has his mind spinning. What was going on? They had work in the morning. What was Chris still doing out? And in that part of town.

He was worried and yes, speeding through LA on his bike.

When he pulls up on the traffic stop his heart stops for a second as soon as his eyes land on Chris's familiar truck. What was going on here?

The roaring of his bike must've drawn attention and he can see Tony stepping away from someone seated on a nearby bench. His first thought is some sort of party girl but when the woman lifts her head and he can see the annoyed expression, he recognizes her as Chris.

Street pulls of his helmet and kicks the stand down when Tony steps to him. "Here, I think it's better you drive her home now. She is in no condition to do so,"

Street takes the keys from him and opens the truck before folding down the back ledge to lift his bike in. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees Chris getting up and seeing her disheveled clothes and hair just makes his stomach drop. She is wearing skintight pants and a top, and the shoes are really not what he was expecting to see her in. Heels, that just served to accentuate her slim legs in those pants. The only thing familiar was her leather jacket.

Why had she been out partying?

He quietly climbs in the driver's seat and glances over to the passenger side where Chris had curled up in the seat. Her forehead resting against the cool glass of the window.

Chris demonstratively ignores him and therefore Street starts the truck with a sigh. He contemplates driving out to his and Luca's place but how should he explain this one? He shakes his head and decides on Chris's apartment. The bonus being she'd have fresh and comfy clothes there to change into. It hurts him seeing her this way.

"What happened tonight?" he whispers and doesn't realize he said it out loud until Chris snares back. "None of your business."

Her voice is raspy and cold, sending chills down his spine.

Street keeps silent until they pull into Chris's parking spot. He wants to say something but before he can get his mouth to work Chris has opened the door and jumped out. He can see her stagger and stumble.

"Wait, let me help you," he sprints around the front and tries to steady her steps. "You can barely walk,"

"Get your hands off me," she snarls again and pushes him off. "And I can walk. Just the sitting around has me off my game." She explains and then holds out her palm "Keys!" she demands.

Street is reluctant in handing over her keys. Seeing Chris standing there, with slightly smudged make up, swaying from side to side but still glaring at him, something in him snaps.

He folds his fingers around her keys. "I'll go up with you. I need to make sure you're okay," he says calmly, and he can almost feel the daggers coming out of Chris's eyes, but he stays firm and suddenly Chris just turns on her heels and throws him a "Suit yourself," while walking ahead.

Chris uses the fall to guide herself and the staggering steps echo in the hallways. This short walk to her apartment has something predatory to him. And it hits him, anyone could take advantage of her in this state. Yes, in normal circumstances Chris would absolutely be able to defend herself but in this state? Street has his doubts.

Her steps have stopped in front of her door and Chris leans against the wall, glancing at him with hooded eyes. If he weren't so worried, he even could think she was trying to be sultry and flirty.

As soon as the door is open Chris grabs the heels and pulls them off her feet. Padding into her apartment and heading for the fridge she pulls out two beers.

Actually offering him one.

Street raises an eyebrow, while taking the closed bottle.

"You invited yourself, you can open it yourself," Chris shrugs and twists the top of her bottle. She takes the first swig and then stumbles in the direction of her bedroom.

Shocked and exhausted Street collapses onto the sofa. He places the still closed bottle on the coffee table and rubs his face with both hands. What is he supposed to do?

His eyes land on his wrist and catch a glimpse of the time. He should really get to sleep if he wants to be at least half way able to work, and he should make sure Chris is okay. She hasn't come back out of her room and he can't help but worry.

He gulps past the lump in his throat. Bracing himself for another onslaught of harsh words and heads to the slightly ajar door of her room.

"Chris? Can I come in?" he speaks softly, trying not to aggravate her, but he is met with silence. Silence and even breathing.

He pushes the door open a bit more and can see the clothes Chris was wearing strewn across the floor. Chris is under the sheet sleeping. The half-empty bottle of beer on her bedside table, next to the bottle of aspirin and her phone.

Street hesitates but a moment and reaches for the device. He quickly types a message to Hondo, letting him know that Chris won't be coming in tomorrow.

He knows that will lead to more yelling, but he couldn't bare knowing Chris was working after having been drunk until the wee hours of the morning.

He pulls off his shirt, shoes and pants and rolls himself up with the throw blanket to grab at least an hour of sleep before he has to leave to be on shift on time.