Disclaimer: Third Watch just so happened to be on my Hanukkah list, but Hanukkah Harry couldn't fit it through the mail slot. Darn it.

A/N: ok lets clarify, I'm not a Cruz fan nor a Cruz/Bosco fan. UNLESS(and this a big unless) they are together, and Cruz is at least TRYING to act like a human. And this may turn into a Bosco/Faith "Make-up" fic. Again you've been warned. And this chapter starts in past tense and will switch.

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Christmas day was always one of the busiest days on the beat. Bosco and I had spent the night together last night, Christmas Eve. He drove me home when he left for midnight mass.

I tried to get him to explain to me why it was so important for him to go, that one day a year. He just told me it was somethin' he had to do. I also knew that he was bound for Faith's house. Every year he goes there too. Somethin' about their special bond made it all that more appealin' for me to ask him about. But I didn't think Carlos or Swersky needed to know that. . . .

When we got to roll call the next day, Swersky had Bosco and I in 55-David. I figured something was up, so I asked him in the RMP, he said he and Faith had some kinda fallin' out, that he didn't want to talk about it. So I let it drop.

We get this call, some fire down by South Street. Bosco's drivin' as usual so we get there in less then a few minutes. Maybe two, tops. And of course, with our luck the "Bucket Boys" weren't on scene yet.

Some bystanders told us that everyone had gotten out, and ran. So we waited for FD to show; took'em about 5 more minutes, and half the place was toast by then.

So's then this guy comes running over from behind the building. Says to us that his brother's Meth lab caught on fire and that his brother ran off down the street, 'bout 3 minutes ago.

Bosco jumps his ass into the squad car and starts drivin' before I could even close the door. We can see this ass, fitting the description is brother gave us- dark hair, blue sweats, white sneakers- and he's runnin' like there's no tomorrow. He turns the corner and the next thing we know's he's jacking this car, just goes and pulls the door open and speeds off. Who doesn't lock their car doors in New York City?

So now we radio in that we're in pursuit, and it's turning into a chase. He picks up speed on the corners; there had to have been three accident caused by this lunatic.

So we pull down Langston Avenue and he finally starts to slow down some. Bosco made some wiseass comment 'bout him running out of gas or something. But as he turned, he started firing on us. I think you know the rest. . .

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~present tense:Hospital~

His door's open a little, the doctor says he needs to rest, but in the years I've known Bosco, I never heard'a him "resting". I knock a little and walk in. his eyes are closed, didn't expect him to actually be resting, unless he's still unconscious.

These chairs they got people sitting in really suck, but I want to wait 'till he comes around. Mooch money off him for a new jacket, ya know?

God, Bosco. . .

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TBC!