Oliver looked across the table at his friend, his former partner, and for the first time saw the stranger he'd become. "Brother, you've got an enviable life."

Murphy scoffed and dropped his gaze to the table.

"But I wouldn't want to be you. Not when Mackie's crew finds out what you did."

Murphy raised his eyes back to Oliver's face, managing to look hurt and defensive at the same time.

"Even if they don't." Oliver pushed back his chair and stood.

"Ollie!" The familiar nickname was like a knife in Oliver's gut, "Ollie!"

"Don't. Not here." Oliver said, walking out without a backwards glance.

Outside the interrogation room he leaned against the wall. It took several deep breathes before he was able to straighten up and walk the rest of the way to the locker room. Anger, betrayal, hurt and confusion warred for dominance. His friend, his partner, the man who had saved his life fifteen years ago, who he'd admired... That man was gone. And in his place was a drug dealer who had used Oliver and all of fifteen division to peddle drugs to a bunch of kids. He thought he might be sick.

He felt disconnected, as if he were moving underwater and everyone else was above the surface, just out of reach. He knew he couldn't go home, not yet. Cheryl would be sympathetic, but she couldn't understand the depth of this betrayal. Besides, she had always liked Patrick Murphy, and Oliver wasn't ready to tell her what their friend had become.

"Coming for a drink?" Oliver hadn't even noticed Sam Swarek was in the locker room until he spoke and it took a moment for the question to sink in.

"Yeah." He said at last, "A drink would be good."

Sam slapped him on the shoulder. "Come on, I'll drive."

They didn't talk. Sam seemed lost in thought and Oliver didn't have anything to say. The Penny was quieter than usual, a fact Oliver was extremely grateful for. He wasn't sure how many sympathetic or accusatory looks he could stomach tonight. He was doing a good enough job beating himself up for not realizing Murphy was up to no good long before now, he didn't need to know everyone else was wondering the same thing. How didn't I know?

Sam bought the first pitcher of beer and set it on a table in the back corner, furthest from the door and most of the bar's occupants. He poured them each a glass, pushing one across the table to Oliver's waiting hands.

"Thanks." Oliver wasn't usually much of a drinker. With the exception of poker nights, he usually tried to be sober when he went home. But tonight he was planning to drink the voices in his head into silence. He drained the glass in a few swallows and poured another.

"You want to talk about it?"

Oliver sighed. He'd known Sam a long time. Not as long as he'd known Patrick, but long enough to know Sam wasn't the type to sit around talking about his feelings. "I can't believe it." He said, taking another swig of beer.

Sam didn't say anything. He just watched Oliver with steady dark eyes.

Oliver asked the question that had been plaguing him for hours ,"How could I not know?"

"He was your partner." Sam said, as if this explained everything.

"Ten years ago." Oliver had finished off his second glass of beer. He poured a third, emptying the pitcher. "People change."

"Sometimes," Sam agreed.

"They're not going to find anything." In a way he was glad. Patrick was his friend and he didn't want to see the man in jail. At the same time, he hated knowing they'd found their man but wouldn't be able to make charges stick for it. They would get him for murder, but it would go in front of a jury and Oliver had been around long enough to know that an ex-cop killing a known drug dealer who was about to kill an undercover cop would not be prosecuted very harshly at all. In all likelihood Patrick Murphy would receive the lightest sentence the law allowed, and then in a year, or ten, he would be out and free to continue running cocaine under the nose of law enforcement, knowing he would never be caught.

"He probably saved McNally's life." Sam's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. "That gun was loaded and Mackie's got a reputation for losing his temper."

Oliver knew Sam was right. If it weren't for Murphy, Andy would probably be in the hospital right now, or the morgue. Still it was hard to feel grateful to the friend and fellow officer who had so badly betrayed his trust. He studied Sam's face, "Are you alright?"

Sam stood, picking up the empty pitcher. "Yeah. I'm good."

Oliver nursed his third glass of beer while Sam went to get the pitcher refilled. The mention of McNally hadn't helped ease his pain, but it had reminded him he wasn't the only one hurting. This was the second time in as many weeks McNally had been involved in a shooting. She'd gotten lucky, but it couldn't be easy to see the woman you loved in danger. Not that Sam would admit to being in love with her. But anyone who'd known Sam as long as Oliver had could see the signs.

o o o

Andy couldn't sleep.

They'd solved the case. She'd done her job today and done it well. Yet there was a sense of unease. A feeling that something was off. And no matter how hard she tried she could not shut her brain off.

She was pretty sure she knew what was wrong, she could sum it up in a single word. Jo.

Ever since the female detective had appeared on the scene with her kind eyes and easy smile, Andy hadn't been able to shake the feeling that her perfect life was teetering at the edge of a cliff, only seconds from being shattered to a million pieces.

There wasn't really any reason for her to worry. Luke loved her. She was certain of that. And she loved him too. They were building a life together here, and it was a good life. He and Jo had a history, there was no denying that, but Luke had answered every question she'd asked. So what if he'd forgotten how she took her coffee, there were more important things in life than coffee. Being able to say how you felt being one of them.

Luke had no problem telling her he loved her. He told her every day. And most of the time it made her happy. She needed that, a man who could say what he was feelings.

Even if it wasn't very exciting.

She tried to stifle the traitorous thought, but she couldn't. She'd meant what she said earlier that night. Being involved with a man who might love you but would probably never say it was exciting. The mystery of it all somehow made the little things, like a perfectly prepared cup of coffee or a warm glance, seem rife with meaning. But, she told herself firmly, there was no future in that.

Happiness and excitement rarely went hand in hand for long.

A/N: I adore Oliver and he broke my heart last episode, so this chapter was really for him. Happy 4th of July to all the Americans out there. Have a hotdog for me :)

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