Thanks for the love. Chapter One was pretty well received. There is one correction: at one point, I refer to a "Captain Ambrose." That was a freudian slip. It was supposed to say "Captain Orndorff."

As always, reviews are appreciated. Also, to encourage reviewing, I'll leave one potential member of the "Major Crimes" squad up to a vote. Would you like;

a. ) Chris Jericho

b.) Emma

c.) Goldust (Dustin Runnels)

Leave a review and vote!

Chapter 2: "You wanna do what?"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Dean gave an incredulous look to the men sitting across the table from him. And this particular table at Lanza's Steakhouse was pretty crowded. At the moment, he was staring directly at Lieutenant Mick Foley and Deputy Police Commissioner Ron Simmons. "Why the fuck would you want me to do that?"

Foley, being the only person at the table who'd actually met Ambrose before tonight, chuckled, shrugged, and took a long drink of the cocktail in front of him. "Dean, I've had my eye on you for a while. When Mayor McMahon and the Commissioner told Ron and I to put this together, your name was at the top of my list. Despite your many…" Mick paused, trying to find the right word…"Idiosyncrasies, you're a fantastic cop with an almost unheard of closure rate. Ninety four percent? That'd be grounds for a promotion if-"

Dean cut him off. "If I hadn't punched out my former captain for taking me off the multiple homicide thing?"

Foley nodded again. "Yeah, that. You're lucky that captain ended up being dirty. Otherwise, you'd probably have lost your badge over that."

Ambrose shrugged and snickered. "If you guys knew the half of what I get away wi-"

Now it was Simmons' turn to butt in. "Is there something you want to disclose?"

Ambrose backed off, having remembered that these men didn't know him the way the cops at his old unit had. "Sorry, I was making a joke. I keep forgetting that you guys aren't familiar with my particular brand of hyjinx."

Foley suppressed another laugh by taking another sip from his highball glass. "That's okay, Dean, one of the reasons we picked you for this is your unique perspective on Titan City and it's problems."

"You want my opinion on Titan City? It's a shithole filled with people who can't leave or are dumb enough to stay."

"And which one are you, Ambrose?" Foley gave a half smile, anxiously awaiting Ambrose's response.

"Little of column 'A'..." He trailed off as the three men around the table shared a chuckle.

"Anyways, Dean," Foley continued, his mind back on his job. "We want you to help put together this unit. We, as a department, have a credibility issue."

Dean snickered knowingly. "That's a really nice way to say 'there's dirty cops in every precinct in this city.'"

Foley shrugged, but not because he didn't agree with Dean. "You said it, Ambrose, not me. You have a good record as a cop. No indication of being bought off or compromised in any way."

Dean nodded, grateful for the acknowledgement from Foley. "Yeah, I don't have a lot going for me, but I cannot be bought. Fuck that. If I were a dirty cop, I'd just quit. I've known guys I thought were on the take, and they still get shot at. There's no fuckin' point."

Foley kept the bemused smirk on his face. "That's why you stood out to us. You've got several 'dings' on your file, but you also have several commendations. You're good, but not too by the book. We're gonna need a lot of that attitude with this new approach we're gonna try."

"New approach?" Dean's interest was piqued now.

"Yeah, Major Crimes isn't gonna deal with policing street level offenses. We can do that for years and not make a dent in the real problem."

Dean scoffed. "And what do YOU think the real problem is?"

Foley grinned, picking up on Dean's inference. "Organized crime. Every street gang, pimp, hustler, drug dealer...they all have a bigger fish supplying them. Calling the shots. We lock up a 'corner boy' slinging meth, the guys at the top find three dropouts willing to take their place. We cannot start healing this city until the scumbags up the ladder go away. One way or another. We want Major Crimes to take the intel we gather from street level arrests and go after the 'go betweens.' The mid level guys that keep the top of the chain clean. Get them out of circulation and maybe we can consider going after the heads of the families."

Dean nodded. "I agree. I was just testing you."

Foley laughed again, before signalling to their waitress that they needed another round. Dean glanced over at the buxom girl, who smiled and winked at him in response. Finding his train of thought, Dean re-focused on his conversation. "And you want my help putting this 'Justice League' together?"

Simmons piped up for the first time. "You're the perfect choice, man. You grew up here. You have no connections to organized crime that we can find. You're good police, Dean. You put in for a promotion four times. We're offering you a promotion, a healthy pay raise, and a chance to do some real good."

Dean laughed. "Go all 'Gunsmoke' on Titan City?" He shrugged, shook his head slowly, and glanced again at their voluptuous server, who was dropping off libations for the entire table. He turned his head fully towards her. "Thanks, darlin'."

She gave him a giant smile in return, briefly rubbing his shoulder. "No problem, hon'." She winked at Lieutenant Foley, then traipsed away, though she didn't stray far from their table. Dean thought that was odd, as they'd ordered steaks a bit ago, and Dean was getting very hungry. The appetizers they'd requested had been devoured almost as soon as they hit the table, and that'd been about twenty minutes ago. After a minute, Dean remembered that he'd been in the middle of his answer to Ron Simmons' question.

"Man, I'm not sure. I come in here and you tell me order whatever I want, then you tell me your plan, and I'm sittin' here thinking 'you want me to do what?'." He paused as Simmons and Foley both gave a small chuckle. Ambrose shook his head, then took a long hit on his fresh beer. "Titan City's a shitty place. Cops work too hard, dig too deep here? They end up in the bay. I'm gonna have to think about it."

Foley rolled his eyes. "We have to get this unit going. Soon. You want to take a day? Take a day. Any longer than that, we move on to our second choice." Foley looked like he had more to say, but their food arrived at that moment. The beautiful blonde waitress led two other servers out to the table, where they each placed a decadent platter in front of one of the table's occupants. Before she could leave, however, Foley nodded at her and grabbed her softly by the arm.

"Before you decide, I want to introduce you to someone." The server grinned wider and waved at him, wiggling her fingers. "This is Sargeant Dana Brooke. She's your first hire. She specializes in what?" He looked up at the blonde, releasing her hold on her.

"Undercover operations," she spilled, before smiling again.

Dean gave Foley a look that signified that he was impressed. "Ok, I need a day to get my shit in order. I'm not saying 'yes,' but if I did, what's the staffing look like?"

Foley gave Dean a look as he began to cut his steak. "The mayor is beyond serious about this initiative. He's giving us funds like we've never had. I'm going to be your head administrator. You, me, and Dana here will be doing the interviews. Unless I have to find someone else."

Dean pondered this for a moment, before taking a bite of steak and washing it down with another long swig of his beer. "I'll take the day. Write my name in pencil as a 'yes.' In pencil. I might still change my mind."

Lieutenant Foley smirked, but nodded his head at Ambrose and extended his hand. "Good to have you on board, Ambrose."

Dean deadpanned, but did shake Foley's hand. "I might still say 'no.'"

With that, the three men, along with the now off-duty Dana Brooke, resumed their chatter about future plans and the food they were currently consuming...

Dean took the day. He knew he was going to accept the position, but he still took the full day. Partially because he just liked antagonizing people, but also partially because he wanted to make sure all angles were considered before making such a life altering choice.

He'd tried to talk the undercover agent he'd met the night before into going home with him. She'd been no more than cordial at first, but Dean won her over with a line about how she should've been jailed for "keeping her fantastic rack as undercover as the rest of her," and they'd done shots together after their superiors left for the night, but cooler heads eventually prevailed. They were going to be working closely together for the next few weeks, and while both officers found the other attractive, they agreed that it was for the best that they not sleep together. At the end of the night, however, a somewhat inebriated Dana did give Dean a hug that bordered on "unprofessional," and a kiss that was intended for his cheek, but landed halfway between his cheekbone and mouth. Dana giggled, then pulled her head back, while maintaining her embrace, then let out a sigh and muttered "maybe one day." The two exchanged numbers, then went along their separate ways, each needing the rest before embarking on this perilous task.

His "day of reflection" actually began with a level of body fatigue that wasn't quite full on "hung over," but he didn't feel a hundred percent, either. As Dean got further from thirty, he felt every wild night out a bit more profoundly than he had as a "twenty-something." Still, even during his time off, he had things he'd had to do. There was less than a week before Christmas, and he hadn't bought Toa Fatu a gift. He also knew at some point he needed to start putting his own list of potential "Major Crimes" officer candidates. But all of that could wait until after he'd had his breakfast and gotten a good workout in.

His egg whites and oatmeal had gone down a little less amicably than normal, mostly because of the drinking, and Dean felt every ounce of alcohol he'd taken in the night before as he stretched in his driveway. His normal routine was a jog to his local gym, followed by an hour or so training, then jogging either home or to Anvil's, the local watering hole that hosted most of Dean's drunken escapades.

As he began his well-paced run to Haku's, the aforementioned gym, It occurred to Dean how lucky he was to be able to jog anywhere. West Titan city was among the safest boroughs in the city, mostly because of increased police presence and housing that was affordable and comfortable without being opulent. Most burglaries and break ins in Titan City were an attempt to steal either cash or drugs, and the homes in west Titan City didn't have the appearance of having either to the naked eye.

Dean turned the corner from Moxley street, where his house was located, and out onto eighth street. He could see the old neon sign that still read "Haku's boxing and fitness" from three blocks away.

Trimming the distance with every stride, Dean spent the remaining duration of his warm up jog trying not to let thoughts of the insanely gorgeous red headed doctor he'd met several days earlier take over his entire brain. She'd played her interactions with him perfectly since he'd been released from her care at Rogers General, always expressing interest but being coy about a future meetup. She'd left her number on the bottom of his discharge form at the hospital, and they were texting regularly, but Becky seemed cautious to pursue an actual date until she was satisfied with all the answers to the questions she was subtlely asking him.

Dean made good time to the gym. Really good time. It was below freezing every day in Titan City in December, yet the intrepid Ambrose made it to his gym in less than twenty minutes. He greeted Haku upon his arrival. "He's the toughest motherfucker I've ever met," Dean mused to himself. And Haku really was. Dean had heard stories of who Haku Uliuli Fifita was before he'd bought the gym. According to Urban legend, he'd once pulled a policeman's eye out of socket with his bare hands, and spiked it like a football player scoring a touchdown before backup showed up. That had been a very long time ago, but the rumors were still whispered.

Dean gave a fist bump to the giant man, then headed toward his locker. He'd asked for locker '6969' a thousand times, but he was still stuck somewhere in the four hundreds. Most of the members of Haku's gym took two to four classes a week, even though 'classes' were a fairly new thing for Haku and his establishment. Dean even attended Muay Thai and Krav Maga classes there. For the moment, however, once Dean checked in and gotten his hands wrapped by the cute girl working the front desk, his eyes were focused on the stunning redhead that was currently working over one of the heavy bags on the gym's main floor.

"'Doctor pretty lady'?" Dean asked, walking toward the subject of his inquiries.

The pretty woman flicked her head over her right shoulder. "Officer Dean? Fancy meetin' ya 'ere."

Dean grinned. He was a VIP at Haku's gym, but he'd never he'd a heavy bag for a rival member before, no matter how gorgeous she was. Becky Lynch threw several low punches to the heavy bag she was working while Dean fast talked her.

Dean smirked again. "I'm here to kick some ass. I've been a member here for a while. You?" As he intimated this, he slinked his arms around the bag Becky was using to get her workout in.

"T'ey tol' me t'is was the place ta' join," Becky retorted. "I was in t'e Irish women's counsel back home, resistin' British rule. I was a medic so I could pay muh way t'rough medical school."

Dean laughed again. "You're a tough chick. Makes me think I want to get to know you better."

Now it was Becky's turn to laugh. The breathtaking redhead threw a left hook at the bag Dean was holding.

"I dunno, Dean…" Becky trailed off. "Y'er a beautiful boy. Y'er exactly who I was lookin' for when I first got ta' Titan City. Bu' I heard a lotta shite abou' ya when I talked ta the nurses on ma shift."

Dean grimaced. "Yeah, I'm a real piece of shit. I fucked pretty much every girl on my shift, but that was a long time ago."

Becky pecked him lightly on the lips before resuming her fight stance from earlier. "I know y'er trouble. But," she paused, letting Dean throw a few combination punches. "Them nurses are all on y'er ex-wife's side."

Becky grinned. She thought Dean was extremely attractive, but she wasn't just going to telegraph what she wanted from the gorgeous young man,

"Just don't stone me out. Let's go get a drink when we're done here. Anvil's is like two blocks from here. Go get a beer with me. Okay?"

Doctor Becky Lynch wasn't sure what to do. All the nurses on her shift at Rogers General said pretty much the same thing; Dean Ambrose was the definition of "trouble." But, on the other hand, he was super handsome, and a little on the "scruffy" side. And Becky was incredibly attracted to "bad boys." It'd been that way since she was a young teenager in the streets of Belfast. "Fuck," she mused internally. Dean was by far the most enticing man she'd met since she'd moved across the Atlantic to Titan City. He was gruff, somewhat untrustworthy, and clearly unkempt, but he was every bit the "rugged American" she'd signed up for when watching TV in her safe haven of Ireland.

The heart-stealing man smiled at her again while unleashing a combination on the heavy bag she was in front of. "Look, it's 'dollar pitchers' at Anvil's. Wanna get a pitcher when you're done?"

"We can ge' some beers, but don' be surprised when I drink ya under the table," the well-toned redhead responded.

Dean grinned. "Ok. Finish your workout and we'll get goin'."

Becky gave him her flirtiest of playful smirks. "I don' t'ink so, Ambrose. I'm goin' 'ome ta change. Ge' presen'able. I'll mee' ya t'ere at seven. Li'e a proper date."

Ambrose couldn't hide his excitement now. "A proper date, eh?"

Becky nodded. "Aye. I'm a doctor, not t'e type girl who jus' goes for beer in 'er workout clothes."

"You'd look great in anything," Ambrose thought. Outwardly, he nodded, betraying none of the excitement he was feeling inside. "Seven. Should I pick you up?"

Becky shook her head. "I go' ma bike. Probably bea' ya t'ere." With that, and a laugh from each of them, the two parted ways to finish their workouts, each hoping the other couldn't tell how pleased they were with this development...