"Captain, there's no reason for us to go in there." Sanchez shakes his head, "She hasn't been seen in this area and cell phone pings show the last known location as being about ten miles away."
"And she has three friends living in this general area. Friends always know shit." Provenza's eyes widen, giving the younger man a look, "I gave you an order and I expect-"
"You expect what?You expect that order to be followed blindly?" He looks forward through the patrol car window, "We're all out here...for nothing." The young detective falls silent for a few moments before continuing, "Can I be honest with you, Captain?"
The old man rolls his eyes, "Have you been dishonest with me, Julio?"
"Everyone is afraid to say anything to you. We think you're going to pop a vein." Julio nearly blurts, "We're worried about you." The man swallows, "You're making...unnecessary, crazy calls. The Chief wants you to take a vacation...before she has to put you on leave. Eve said that's what she told the Commander. I...we all just want you to calm down before something happens to you."
Provenza stares through the window next to him, unable to tell anyone before. "I have a lot on my mind, Julio." A part of him wants to walk Mac up the aisle. He isn't about to tell that to the young detective, but it has really been bothering him as of late. "I'll take a break when this case is over."
"The Commander can handle it, you know." He smirks, "She may soon be my mother-in-law, but I have nothing but good things to say about her."
The Captain huffs a chuckle to himself, "That's what you say now. I've had my fair share of mothers-in-law."
"Grammy?" Katherine spoke from her coloring book as she sits at the coffee table in her grandparents home. The one her mother used to own, but gave to her parents to make it easier to be close, also easier to be made wheelchair accessible.
Evelyn Rooney pushed the lever of the motorized wheelchair that was a constant for her now-a-days. "Yes, my sweet Katherine?" She genuinely smiled to her youngest granddaughter. Her miracle granddaughter.
"How old are you?"
"Ah." The older woman wasn't expecting that. She thread her fingers together, placing them onto her lap. "I'm incredibly old. Remember the big giant tree at my other house? The one in the yard, not far away from the patio?" When the young girl nodded, she continued, "When your grandfather and I were first married, that's when we planted that tree. We carved our initials into it."
"We shouldn't carve trees. It hurts them." Kate pouted, watching the older woman.
"I know that now, but we didn't then." Evelyn smirked slightly, "That tree is bigger than the house now...who knows how many rings it may have at this point."
"Trees take a long time to grow. Right?"
The older woman nodded, "They can take a very long time."
Kate studied the older woman for a moment, tilting her head to the side, "At least five hundred."
"What?" Evelyn raised an eyebrow, not quite sure what the girl is referring to.
"You are at least five hundred years old." Her tone was serious, standing up from her spot and climbing into her lap, "And you have been around forever and ever...and that's okay because I love you anyway even though you're really very old."
"Well, thank you, sweetheart." The older woman had taken hold of the girl, hugging her close, "I love you too."
Kate sits at Provenza's desk, waiting for the people to return from being out at a murder scene. Having retrieved her crayons from her godfather's bottom drawer, along with one of many coloring books. "I don't like Uncle Louie's chair, but Detective Amy's is so soft. I could fall asleep."
"I think it's okay." Mac shrugs from her father's workspace, near their mother's office. "Uncle Louie can be stubborn though. You know how he is." She smirks, her phone in her hand. She scrolls through her agenda, making sure she did all the things she needed or wanted to do today., "Bet he complains about his back hurting."
"He does." The younger girl grins, running to the hall when she hears the elevator open and the usual voices fill the space, "Welcome back, everybody!"
"Katie, hey!" Mike Tao chuckles, ruffling her hair as he walks past her, "Did you have fun with your sister?"
"I did, Mr. Mike. I'm getting my own blue tux like my sister and my brother and we ate at the place with the fire and we had so much fun." Kate beams, "Where were all of you?" She walks alongside the man, as if she works with them all. "Were you at a...murder?" She raises her eyebrow with the final word, "With dead bodies?"
The man smirks a little, amused by the precocious girl, "We were looking for a bad guy. However, we're back now. Your Dad should be up soon." He waves to Mac, "Getting excited or ready for it all to be over?"
Mac tilts her head from side to side, "A bit of both, I guess." She smiles genuinely, "I can't wait to make her my wife, but...I'm also hoping everything goes according to plan. As Dad says, when we plan, God laughs. So...this should be pretty interesting. Hopefully, for my fiance's sake, and my general mental health, it goes...well."
"Optimistic." Mike nods, "I remember when I married to my wife...like it was yesterday. Seeing her in a beautiful kimono with colorful flowers all around her...I'll always remember that. It was very Western compared to what our parents were accustomed to...my parents being Chinese and Kathy's are Japanese...it was an interesting, beautiful mixture of our cultures and our families."
"Was there something that you didn't want that she did or vice versa?"
"Well...she didn't want to wear the kimono. However, I realized that it would hurt her mother deeply if she didn't. I know it isn't what she wanted, but I think she was happy with the decision in the end." He shrugs, "I wanted something small, like what was traditional to my wife's heritage, but we went for something large and...crazy, to say the least. It's what my wife wanted. We did a bit of compromising here and there, but in the end, promising ourselves to one another is what it was all about."
Mac smirks, seeing in the man's face that he still truly loves his wife deeply, "Robin is super...jittery about the whole thing. What if the caterers mess up the orders? What if our friend forgets her lines or we forget ours? What if we forget the ring." She chuckles to herself a little, "Safe to say, it's driving me a little bananas."
"It will all be over soon." Mike nods, "Don't worry, Mac."
Rusty read the leather bound science fiction classic novel as he lounged on the sofa, a pillow held against his side as he slowly attempted to sit up. He groaned, dropping the book in the process. He was merely turning to his opposite side, why must this hurt so much?
Mac jogged over from the kitchen area, having been making them lunch, "What are you doing?"
"Just turning." His eyes were tightly closed, "Fuck...Fuck this..."
"You know, if you let me help you-"
"-I don't need your help-"
"Of course not." Mac shook her head, knowing her brother to be rather stubborn in asking others for any type of assistance whatsoever. "So, I'm sure you can walk over to the kitchen without pain and make your own sandwich and soup...without pain. Come back over here and sit down to eat...all without pain or that stupid pillow." She motioned to the smallish throw pillow the hospital had given him to hold against his wound for when he moved, "But what do I know."
He fell silent a moment, "You don't get it." Rusty swallowed, trying to move again only to grown once more.
"Would you please stop?" She scowled at him, moving closer, "You're going to pop-" She paused, meeting his eye and removing the pillow to see a red spot forming, "You popped a stitch, jerk."
"My stitch to pop."
"Okay. Do you want me to call Mom?" Mac knew how juvenile that sounded, she folded her arms, "Because I will. Then I know you'll listen."
Rusty rolled his eyes a little, "She's working."
"Exactly. The only reason she went back to work was because you promised her that you'd listen to me and let me help you when you needed it...and that I could call her if you weren't doing those things." She smirked, "Which I will totally do...don't try me."
"You're my little sister."
"I could tell Kate when she gets home. She'll literally beat your ass." Mac nodded a little, "So, idiot brother, let me help you move, let me help you get cleaned up a little, and let me help you get ready for lunch..."
Rusty met her eye, "Or else what?"
"Or else I'll call Mom."
"Did you have a good time?" Rusty grins toward his mother as they sit on the terrace of the fancy restaurant, watching their small lunch rush. Mostly people who wanted to sit inside, thankfully.
"Exactly what I needed." Sharon nods, reaching over to pat his hand, "Thank you."
"Of course. What are favorite sons for?" He knows she's giving him a look as he peers toward the menu in his hands. "These are the most expensive sandwiches...I can't wait to put them all in my face."
She rolls her eyes a little, amused by her son, "Get whatever you want. This lunch is on me."
"Mom-"
"You treated for the Spa and for the snack thing they went around with. It was incredibly healthy, delicious, and green, but...you didn't have to do that. Let me get this one." Sharon nods a little, "I insist. That's why I wanted to come here. I knew you'd like it." She tilts her head to the side, "I also like how they shorten the word 'sandwich'. I suppose they can't be bothered to put the whole word on a menu."
Rusty smirks, "They read well. They don't need to put the whole word...it already all sounds delicious."
She smirks, lifting her head from the menu, "How have your sessions been going with Dr. Joe?"
"Well...I mean, they're going." He shrugs, "He just lets me talk and it's usually not even about the thing or...me getting better. It's just about whatever."
"That's what therapists do. They make situations easier to deal with." Sharon nods slowly, "I'd say he's doing a pretty good job, as are you. The young man I brought home from the hospital a few months back is not the one I'm sitting with at this table right now." She reaches over to touch his hand again, "I'm incredibly proud of you, Rusty."
Rusty nods a little, "Thank you, Mom."