A/N: Hello friends. I would like to continue to thank you for the support and all of the reviews this young story has been getting. It's inspiring me, seeing how it's touching you, and your reviews make me want to keep going. I'm expecting a busy weekend, so I can't promise my update speed will keep being this rapid, but I'll do my best to keep this moving.

SP96

Sarah laid in bed that night, her bare legs above the covers as she watched TV. The TV was there, her eyes were seeing it, but she wasn't mentally ingesting a damn thing.

All Sarah was thinking about was her dropping off Chuck at a public park he liked. He didn't have a home to go to, but he told her "It's kind of like home. It feels closest to home. Especially when I get to pet people's dogs."

Sarah stared at her phone that laid next to her thigh, thinking about the idiot she was. "Here's my number. If you find your cart, or you're in trouble, call me."

How dumb did she have to be to give Chuck her number, to tell him to call her? Chuck didn't own a phone!

Sarah shook her head and tried to focus back on her show, but she just thought about Chuck, trying to find a warm, comfortable place to sleep in a county that was trying to "combat homelessness" by making the city less accommodating.

Chuck couldn't sleep on a park bench because they were slightly slanted so he'd be at an angle or even roll off. They started putting grates over vents so he couldn't sleep on them to stay warm.

LA County wasn't directly hunting Chuck, but in the moment, Sarah felt like it. Chuck was the only homeless person she personally knew after all.

Chuck sat on his favorite bench, watching happy people playing with their dogs, and he smiled ear to ear.

He had new clothes, he smelled good for once. He felt like a million bucks. He even got to pet a few dogs because people weren't totally steering clear of him.

Most importantly, Chuck had his picture of him and Ellie back.

He would occasionally stop his people and dog watching to look down at the picture and rub his thumb over it, wishing that somehow that small action could bring her back to him.

Chuck missed his big sister tremendously, and he would often lose sleep at night wondering where she was, hoping that she was okay, praying that she had found a way to chase her dreams of becoming a doctor and saving lives.

Chuck's head began to tailspin, and he didn't want it to, not while there was still plenty of light and people enjoying life for him to watch.

No, Chuck would allow himself to get wrapped in his pity parties like a self-punishing blanket when the sun was low and the night began to chill him thoroughly.

Chuck absentmindedly wrapped his long arms around himself, his large hands gripping his own shoulders as he realized that the thin blanket he did have was somebody else's now. It would just be Chuck versus the elements tonight, and he wasn't looking forward to it.

Chuck's mind drifted again as he sat alone on his bench. This time they found Sergeant Sarah Walker, the golden hearted Burbank police officer who had through common sense caution to the wind and had allowed a strange, large homeless man into her home, to use her shower and sleep on her couch, even for just a few short hours.

He hoped that she was at home, comfortable, enjoying the rest of her day off. He truly, deeply hoped she was. He wasn't jealous of her, or being snide. She helped him today more than he ever could have hoped for, and he would be forever grateful to her, even if he never saw her again.

Chuck reached into the pocket of his brand new sweats and retrieved his little piece of paper. He unfolded it and looked at the numbers printed so carefully on it. Sarah's phone number.

He knew it was a ridiculous thing for him to hold onto. He didn't have a phone. He certainly had no hopes of finding his cart. He was just happy that whoever had taken his belongings had discarded his picture. He was sad because of the state of the frame, but he was glad that he had just happened to stumble upon it.

As Chuck gazed at the piece of paper, he wondered why he still held onto it. He supposed that he held onto it as a memento in the probable case that he wouldn't see Sarah Walker again.

Monday morning rolled around hard for Sarah Walker. She didn't want to get out of bed today, just like every other human on the planet during a Monday morning.

She found herself getting up 10 minutes before her alarm clock anyway, and getting ready for the day.

She brushed her teeth and used mouthwash like every morning, and she briefly paused as she saw the pile of Chuck's old clothes still on the top of the garbage can. He hadn't just been a red wine dream.

Sarah stood there, unmoving, her electric toothbrush still in her hand. She knew the chances of seeing Chuck were damned slim, but she decided she would do a good thing today, something she could see him awarding her with by his bright smile.

She left her apartment a little earlier than usual, heading for the supermarket nearest her precinct station.

She prepped her cruiser as normal, but also loaded a case of water, a couple boxes of granola bars, and a large bag of apples into the back, under the seats.

"Sarge, what are you doing?" asked Lester Pattell, Sarah's rookie cop ride along for the day.

"We serve and protect, right?" Sarah asked, standing to her full height, which was considerably more than Lester's.

"Y… yes?"

"We can serve people in more ways than just serving tickets and traffic citations. It's going to be hot today, so I think it'd be nice to offer water and a nice snack to people who look like they need it, don't you?" Sarah asked rhetorically as she got into the car.

"I suppose that would help our community image," Lester concurred.

"Lord knows we need it lately," Sarah said.

Darkness began to fall around Chuck and his dog park, and the people around him began to thin out. The night air began to cool rapidly as well, and Chuck pulled his arms around himself.

"This is going to suck," Chuck sang in a quiet sing-song. "This is going to really suck."

As Chuck was about to resign himself to a fate of a cold night sleeping upright on a bench, he saw a familiar bearded man walking by in a windbreaker, snacking on a giant hotdog.

Chuck meekly waved at him and mumbled, "Hey buddy."

Morgan stopped and turned, spotting Chuck. "Chuck? Is that you?" Morgan jogged over to Chuck and joined him on the bench. "Hey buddy to you, too."

"You heard me?" Chuck asked in disbelief.

"Yeah dude," Morgan chuckled back. "So what's up?"

"Nothing. I was chilling at the dog park. I really like it here," Chuck said.

"I bet you're just chilling," Morgan laughed. "It's cold out here, dude. Come on, let's go get you a hotdog. I know a great cart. You hungry?"

"Dude, you don't owe me anything. You don't have to buy me a hotdog," Chuck said humbly.

"Nonsense, man. Come on. What's a hotdog among friends?" Morgan challenged him, beckoning him to get up.

"A lot, actually," Chuck said under his breath as he got up and followed his fellow bearded man.

"I had no idea a hotdog could mean so much to a guy. I respect it, though."

Chuck just looked at him? "Dude what is up with your hearing?"

"My hearing isn't anything special, you're just louder than you think."

Chuck and Morgan approached the hotdog stand that Morgan had just been at moments ago.

"I'm closing up in ten minutes, so it's gotta be quick," the man running the cart said.

"Yeah, no problem," Morgan said, rubbing his hands together. "Any idea what you want, Chuck?"

Chuck scanned the small laminated menu on the front of the cart. Everything looked good to a man who wasn't able to eat every day, but everything also looked expensive to a man who drank rain water from a tarp laid over a shopping cart.

"You know what? Can we do two foot-long chili cheese dogs with onions and jalapenos?" Morgan asked, speaking for Chuck who looked terribly overwhelmed.

Chuck and Morgan had a short wait before they had the monstrous dogs in hand.

Morgan inserted his card into the chip reader, but it didn't register. He pulled it out and tried again, but the reader made no sign of showing there was a card at all.

"Huh, that's weird. It worked a minute ago," the stand owner said.

Chuck scratched his beard and looked at the chip reader. "Is uh… is it okay if I take a look at the computer for just a second?"

"Sure. Knock yourself out," the man said.

Chuck handed Morgan his chili dog and peaked at the computer. "Software looks up to date," Chuck said after a moment.

He removed the reader apparatus and looked at the connection port. "Oh boy," Chuck said, looking at the USB connection. "The connection sleeve is pinched," he told him. "Do you have a pocket knife?" Chuck asked.

"Uh, yeah," the poor guy said, handing it to Chuck.

Ever so carefully, Chuck wiggled the tip of the blade, and with a tiny lever action, he was able to bend up the tiny indent in the metal. He folded up the knife and handed it back to the stand operator.

Chuck reinserted the apparatus and a pop-up told him it was connected.

"Sweet! That did the trick," Chuck chirped with a satisfied grin. "Morgan, you can run your card now."

"Nah man, don't worry about it," the guy behind the cart said as he closed up his little set-up.

"What?" Morgan asked, tilting his head to the side.

"You guys fixed my chip reader. I would have lost all of tomorrow's business while I tried to figure it out, had someone else play with it, or had to get a whole new one," the guy shrugged. "The least I can do is buy you guys dogs," he said.

"Oh my gosh, thank you so much," Chuck said, Morgan handing him his dinner back.

"No, thank you guys, really," the dog man told them as they took their leave, wieners in hand.

"Dude, you're amazing!" Morgan elated, punching Chuck's arm.

"What?" Chuck asked, taking a bite.

Morgan took a big bite and said with a full mouth, "You, dude. You're awesome. First you fix that blonde girl's phone, then you fix the chip reader and scored us free food. You're a tech monster, man."

Chuck just laughed and shook his head. "I'm no big deal, Morgan."

"How do you know how to do that stuff?" Morgan asked as they walked.

Chuck shrugged. "I've always been good with tech, and I went to school for it, so…."

"Oh yeah? Where'd you go?"

"Stanford," Chuck said like it was no big deal, and went in for another bite.

"Whoa whoa whoa, you're telling me my new homeboy went to Stanford?" Morgan seemed elated.

"I didn't finish," Chuck clarified.

"But you went to Stanford!"

"I was a semester from graduation."

"What happened?" Morgan asked, leading Chuck somewhere, but to where, Chuck didn't know.

"I don't want to get in to too many details, but I had to leave. Hit a bumpy road with family, things got complicated, my whole life spiraled, and uh... I wasn't able to get back."

"Wow dude, that's super cryptic. Thanks for telling me everything and nothing at the exact same time."

"Yeah, no problem, buddy," Chuck said with a shake of his head and a chuckle. "So where are you leading me?"

"I'm bored, I have tomorrow off, so we're going to go play video games at my place. Oh wait, do you have somewhere to be?"

Chuck just pointedly looked at him.

"I'll take that as a no. I don't know what homeless people do, dude," Morgan said as they reached his house. "Just out of curiosity, what would you usually be doing right now?"

"Exactly what I was doing when you found me, buddy."

"Oof. That sucks, dude. It's kinda chilly out."

Chuck sighed. "I am very aware of that."

"Wanna crash on the couch?" Morgan offered.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah dude, why not?"

"Because I'm a large homeless man you have met twice?" Chuck said. "You're worryingly trusting."

"You have a kind face. What can I say, Chuck? I think people just naturally trust you. My mom is also super religious, so she'd be pissed if I just turned you out."

"Your mom knows about me?" Chuck asked with a raised brow.

"She's about to. It's her house," Morgan said as he opened the door for himself and Chuck.

Chuck stepped inside of a small, Spanish style one-story house that looked like it was out of a Mexican soap opera. Visages of Mother Mary graced the walls, as well as a large picture of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.

Small pieces of pottery were placed here and there as chachkies, and tiny round cactuses lined the counter with an open window that showed a view of a small, but beautiful kitchen.

"Morgan, this place is amazing," Chuck said, feeling like he was in the cross of a warm, loving home, and a Sante Fe gift shop.

"It's cool I guess. It loses the shock value after a while," he said with a shrug. "Mom! I'm home, and I brought a friend!" Morgan called.

"Mihoh?" Chuck heard a pleasantly surprised voice answer back. "And you found a new hombre?"

Gentle looking, raven black haired woman appeared in the doorway of the living room.

"Hi, mihoh. Welcome, new hombre!" Morgan's mom said to Chuck with a winning grin. "Welcome! Come in," she said graciously. "Who is this tall man, Mihoh?"

"This is Chuck. He's a new buddy of mine who's gonna hang out with me for a bit. We're gonna play some games and he's going to crash on the couch tonight, is that okay?"

"Of course! Are you two hungry?" she asked as she went back into the kitchen.

"No, we're okay. We grabbed snacks on the way back from the dog park," Morgan explained.

"Oh, I love the park!" she said in a thick, but understandable accent. It just endeared her further to Chuck. "I've seen you there, tall friend. You're the kind homeless man that speaks to dogs."

Chuck just gulped and awkwardly laughs. "That's me, yeah," Chuck confirmed.

"What is a nice young man like you being homeless for?"

"Mom! You can't just ask a guy why he's homeless!" Morgan interjected. Morgan then leaned in to Chuck and whispered, "You will tell me why your homeless though later, right?"

Chuck rolled his eyes and looked down at his much shorter new friend.

After what seemed like the longest day of her career, Sarah and Pattell finally pulled back into the barn.

"How many snacks did we give out today?" Lester asked, looking into the back seat.

Sarah looked in the back with him. "Half a case of water, most of the granola bars, and all of the apples. I'd call that a nice day of distribution," she said with a light smile. Some of the snacks went out to random walkers, little kids playing, and a handful of homeless folk.

"Today was a cool day, except for that public indecency call," Lester said, wrinkling his nose in disgust.

"I'm just glad he peed on your leg and not mine," Sarah teased.

"I'm just glad you waited until we were alone again before laughing at me for two whole minutes," Lester scowled.

"You're welcome," the senior officer said, getting out of the car. "You're on rotation to ride with me again tomorrow, right?" Sarah asked.

"I think so. Captain Casey has me with you all week, I believe," the short man said as they walked back into the station proper. "Any idea why?"

"The captain thinks having you with me is punishing me because I've been lippy lately," Sarah explained.

"You okay, Sarge?" Lester asked, tilting his head.

"Yeah," Sarah sighed. "This stays just between us, but I think I've been burning out lately. Today really helped, though. We did our job by the numbers, and we also got some smiles with our new snack campaign."

Lester just nodded. "I'll see you in the A.M., Sarge?"

"You sure will. Have a good night, Pattell," Sarah said, and headed off to the women's locker.

Sarah entered the locker room, and pleasantly found herself alone. She took her time getting out of her boots, her body cam and her kevlar.

She meditated on one particular call they had. A restaurant called about a man with an unpaid bill. The caller didn't seem shocked or angry, it was just a factual event for them.

When Sarah and Lester arrived, they found a manager sitting in the lobby of the restaurant with a homeless woman. He seemed indifferent, and she seemed more… embarrassed than mad or angry at the situation.

"She had fries, a water, and chicken strips. It's policy that I call," the manager explained.

"Understood," Sarah said with a lain face and a nod. "We'll put her in for the night and let her go, see if she learns a lesson," Sarah told him, knowing that this would no doubt happen again. It was a recurring issue.

As Sarah put the lady in the back seat, Sarah also handed her a water bottle. The woman was quiet the whole ride to the station. She had done little to no real economic damage to the restaurant. She got to eat that day, and while it was a bunk, she still had somewhere off the street to sleep that night.

Sarah came back to the present, looked at the tiled floor of the locker room, and silently cried.