A/N- There are a couple ten-codes in here, I think the meaning is implied, but if not, just google it (: I also changed the last chapter so that "Mattes" became "Ricky," as per the latest episode.

"Stand tall for the people of America. Stand tall for the man next door."

-Niko Vega, Beast

Sharon pulled her car into a space in the LAPD garage, locked, and joined the crowd headed for the elevators. She missed the first two lifts and stood with a small group waiting for the third elevator to make its way back to the garage.

She was lost in thought when a middle-aged man with ruffled dark hair tapped her shoulder. He was tall, dressed in a neat blue suit. He had a huge grin on his face, and she could tell that he was one of those guys the girls loved.

"Hey Officer," he smiled. "Do you have a minute?"

She smiled back. His mood was infectious. "Sure."

"So my friend here," he gestured to a shorter man by his side with graying hair and an atrocious paisley tie. "It's his anniversary tomorrow and he doesn't know what to get his wife."

"See here, Flynn," the short man interrupted. "I just can't decide between getting Lizzie earrings or a necklace."

"Are you asking me to help you pick which one?" Sharon laughed.

"Well..."

"Yeah, he is," the tall one said.

Sharon thought for a minute. She didn't know a thing about the man's wife, but she knew her own tastes quite well. "If it were me, I'd go with the necklace. It'd be versatile and harder to lose." She paused. "And a girl can never have too many necklaces."

The tall man grinned widely. "That is exactly what I said! There you have it."

The shorter man rolled his eyes. "Don't mind him; he's just hot air."

The elevator dinged and they made their way towards it.

"Thanks for the help, Officer...?" The tall one started.

"Raydor. Sharon Raydor."

"Andy Flynn. And this idiot is Louie Provenza."

"If you're ever in robbery-homicide, stop by," Provenza said as Sharon got off at her stop.

She waved, then joined the wave of uniformed beat officers headed for the locker rooms. Sharon tossed her keys in her locker on top of her spare uniform, then walked back outside to join her partner, Meriwether Arthur.

He was tall and gangly, with his rumpled and fading copper hair fluttering in the breeze.

"Hey, Sharon," he called, melding her name into one syllable: Sharn. "Ready for another day in our beautiful Los Angeles?"

She laughed and slid into the car with him. "Hope it's quiet today."

Meri fell back into his seat. "My God. Was Rulebook Raydor partying it up last night?"

"Nah, just up late."

His face turned serious as he reversed out of their spot. "Shary, is this Jack again? How late did he get back?"

Sometimes Sharon withed Meri didn't have such a quick mind. "Not real late."

"Shar, that was one of the worst lies I've ever heard in my life. I thought I taught you better."

She giggled. After four years of partnership, they had learned each other well. "No, really, it wasn't that late. He's been later."

"'Me thinks the lady doth protest too much,'" he quoted, but left the subject alone. "Jill wants to have a get together on Saturday for everyone," he said, bringing up his wife's enthusiasm for group dinners. "You know- Jimmy, Lucy, Carter... actually, I think Jill's planning on inviting the whole squad to our house for dinner. Could you and Jack come?"

Sharon knew Meri's wife fairly well, after some shared holidays and celebrations. "Yeah, that should be fine. May I bring Ricky?"

"Yeah, sure. Anna and Peter are home from college, so all the kids will be there. Lucy and Alex are both bringing theirs."

"Thanks."

"Anytime."

"This is dispatch," the radio crackled suddenly. "10-50 at Tenth and Sheridan Avenue. Nearby units respond."

Sharon leaned forward and picked up the radio. "This is unit two-twelve. We're close. ETA..." She glanced at Meri. "Two minutes?"

"Roger that, two-twelve. It's all yours."

"Not so quiet after all," Meri grunted. He turned onto a side street and began making his way back to Tenth Street.

It turned out to be a simple case: one man had rear-ended another. They exchanged information, it was documented, and everyone went on their way.

The rest of the day continued much like the first call. Several small calls. Drunk and disorderly, speeding, running a red light. Up and down, in and out. Sharon was royally tired by the time four o' clock rolled around and she could see similar weariness in Meri's face.

He was driving back to Parker Plaza when another call came over the radio. "We have a 10-80 in progress two blocks south of Parker Plaza. Suspect may be armed. Request all available units for back-up."

"Damn," Meri sighed. "Are we available, or not?"

"Meri... Of course we're available. We're only a couple streets over."

"Rulebook Raydor to the rescue," he laughed. "Okay. Let's go." He slapped the lights on and flipped a U-turn to catch up to the car chase. The siren whooped loudly and then screamed as they picked up speed. After a few minutes, Sharon could see other black-and-whites ahead of them, traveling in a pack down the road. She couldn't see the car being chased, but it apparently turned, as the stream of LAPD cars moved to the left.

She turned in her seat to get a better view of the road behind her and Meri. "Clear."

He spun the wheel to the left and they screeched around the corner. The car was trying to shake the police, turning down roads, seemingly at random.

"Clear." They spun around the corner again.

"Clear." The other way this time. Sharon was pressed back into her seat.

"Centripetal force," Meri grinned. "Nothing like a good car chase." He slammed on the brakes, throwing himself and Sharon against the seatbelts. "Sorry. It looks like we're stopping." The cars ahead were slowing too.

Sharon leaned out her window and peered over the cars. "I think we have the perp pinned. I can see cars on the other side of a sedan ahead of our group. There're people getting out." She could see cops flipping their car doors wide open and kneeling behind them, weapons drawn. "I think he's armed."

Meri grabbed her arm and pulled her back in. "Then you're waiting here. I'm going to go up and see what's going on."

"Mer-"

"No. Wait here. That's an order, Sergeant."

Sharon huffed angrily, but sat back. "Fine."

Meri ducked out and jogged up to the front line of cars, hunched over. He was talking to another man, half kneeling, hand on his gun. Sharon couldn't hear anything so she cast her gaze over the others, trying to pick out any familiar faces. It was hard from the back, all she could make out was a few long ponytails and service stripes on peoples' sleeves. Nothing conclusive. She was pretty sure Lucy was the tall blonde in the second row, but she wasn't sure. She was studying the woman when a sudden movement caught her eye. The man had dropped his gun and was making a run for it. Sharon's mouth dropped in surprise.

"That crazy son of gun..."

She was even more surprised when he turned in her direction, racing down the sidewalk. She watched him, checking for other weapons. She couldn't see any. She could hear Meri's voice in her head. Wait here. That's an order. She could see the others running after the man, but she knew they were still too far away.

So she did the first thing that came to mind. She waited until the man was nearly even with her car, then flung the door wide open. He crashed into the door, nearly flipping over the top with his speed. The door swung in again, but Sharon had braced it with her legs, and she shoved it open again, before leaping out and crashing into the man as he stumbled past the door.

He fell backward and she slammed on top of him. It left her breathless for a moment, but the man below her was gasping for breath. He blinked and his fist curved up to her face. It happened so quickly she didn't know what happened until she fell off him and her own hands reached up to him. She caught his feet with her legs and grasped his shirt in both hands. He tumbled over again and she punched him square in the nose. Then the others were there, lifting her off him and pulling him back, handcuffs sparkling in the light.

Meri stepped up to Sharon's side, trying not to smile. "I thought I said to stay put," he said, trying to be serious.

"I must have misheard you, sir," Sharon deadpanned. "My apologies."

He rolled his eyes and then turned away. "Anyone got a kleenex for the girl cop's nose?" he called.

Sharon touched her nose gingerly, and found her fingertips slightly sticky with blood. "It's fine; it'll stop in a minute."

Meri passed her a couple paper towels. "We'll just leave now. Robbery-Homicide might need a statement, 'cause I think this was their case, but it can wait. Let's head back to the plaza and get you cleaned up."

Not more than fifteen minutes later, she was standing at the bathroom mirror, washing her face. The nosebleed had been superficial, her nose perfectly normal. However, she could see the beginnings of a bruise around her eye and cheekbone. She had some concealer stored in her desk. She went to fetch it and was greeted by several members of her squad, gathered around her desk.

Carter, an incredibly tall older man, was the first to speak. "I heard you took a perp down today. He was your first tackle, wasn't he?"

"I didn't tackle him, just opened a door in his face."

Lucy laughed loudly. "Yeah, then you tackled him and broke his nose." She grinned. "Congrats! You officially have the first addition to your file."

"What!" Sharon gasped.

"FID put a little note on your file," Meri said. "Something along the lines of "Sergeant Sharon Raydor used justifiable force to subdue a suspect as he tried to escape police custody." Nothing exciting or the least bit close to bending any regs, but still. You've been initiated into the club."

"Ah." Sharon smiled back. "Good. I think."

Lucy shoved her back towards the door. "Before you cover up that bruise, Commander Bancroft in FID wants to see you and Robbery-Homicide would like your statement."

Sharon checked her watch. Four-forty-five. She still had time before she had to pick up Ricky, if she was quick. She waved goodbye and then slid out the door. Meri ducked out after her and stopped her a short distance down the hall.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, just this," she said, touching the bruise. After a moment, she saw what he was getting at. "Meri. Don't worry. Everything's fine."

"I do worry when you pull stunts."

"I'll try not to. This was accidental."

"Try not to have any more accidental flying tackles, as spectacular as they may be," he said, smiling.

She relaxed, realizing he wasn't angry. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Okay."

She turned and headed back towards FID and Robbery-Homicide. They shared a floor, and she slipped into the RH department first. It was almost empty, only a few officers left. Sharon walked over to them and and a dark-haired man in a black suit turned to her.

"I was told someone up here wanted a statement from me..." she started. She felt incredibly grubby in her dusty and bloodstained uniform, but she kept her expression cool and flat.

"You're here about the Rogers case?"

"I think so."

He looked her over. "You the one who took the perp out with a car door?"

She blushed, mask cracking. "Yes, sir."

"That was a nice take-down, Officer," he said. "Mark Stoddard. I'm the department head, here."

"Sharon Raydor."

"Good to meet you," he replied. "I'll need a signed copy of your statement within the next day or two. The sooner the better, but don't kill yourself over it. It's an open and closed case."

"Yes, sir. And I just bring it back here?"

"Yup."

"Okay." She stepped back. "Good day, sir."

"Sergeant." Stoddard turned back to his detectives as Sharon walked away. FID was just across the hall. She slipped out the door and had just passed the elevators when they dinged and opened. Two voices emerged, speaking heatedly.

"I didn't use excessive force!"

"I know that, you just have to tell that to FID."

"Again."

"Yes, well, they just get a little over-zealous when it comes to perps with nosebleeds."

"I'll say." The voice paused, and then began again in a louder tone. "Hey, Officer!"

Sharon turned, finding the two detectives from earlier that day. Flynn and Provenza? She waited for them to catch up, then the three of them continued down the hall, Sharon in the middle of the two.

"Headed to FID?" she asked.

"Yeah, Flynn here managed to piss off our perp. The fool banged his face on his own car when Flynn cuffed him."

Sharon read the subtext easily, but chose not to respond.

"Are you going the same way... oh, hold on." Provenza closed his eyes. "Sharon? That right?"

"Yes," Sharon smiled slightly. She was astonished the man had remembered her name. "Sharon Raydor, and I have indeed been summoned to the dragon's lair."

Flynn looked at her closely. "Say, are you related to Jack Raydor?"

"Do you know him?" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, a bit. Used to see him a lot, actually, but not so much anymore," Flynn said vaguely. He looked at her pointedly, and she replied to the original question.

"Ah. Jack's my husband."

Provenza nodded, a decidedly neutral expression on his face. "He said you were on the force. Never really went into specifics, though." They reached the FID office, and Provenza swept the door open. "After you."

"Thanks." She slid past him, headed for the Commander's office. She had one hand on the door before Flynn called her name.

"Hey Sharon, maybe sometime you could come out for drinks with the lot of us in RHD. I'm a bit of a lightweight-"

Provenza snorted. "By 'light-weight' he means 'no-weight.'"

"-but it might be fun," Flynn finished with an eye-roll to Provenza.

"Maybe," she smiled. She knocked on the commander's door. He called for her to enter, so she waved goodbye to the detectives and slipped inside.

"Commander."

"Sergeant Raydor. Take a seat." The head of FID was tall, dark-haired, and built like a quarterback. Sharon had heard rumors that he used to be semi-pro before he joined the LAPD. He sat down behind his desk and pulled a wafer-thin folder out of a drawer. He flipped it open and pushed it over to her. "This is your file. As you can see, there's not much there. Just your information and notices of promotion."

The left side held several papers hidden under a page with her personal information and a small photo. The right side was a mostly blank lined record sheet with a few entries scrawled across it. Sharon tapped the newest entry with one finger. April 20, 1988. Sergeant Raydor involved in car chase and aggressive arrest. She frowned at the words. Aggressive? Multiple witnesses, stories corroborate, Raydor's actions were justified. No charges or complaints filed. See report for full details.

"Not much there," Bancroft said. "Rather unusual, around here." He reached over to take it back and passed her a typed sheet that neatly summarized the afternoon's events. Sharon was surprised by FID's apparent efficiency. "As far as my lieutenants could tell, you weren't at fault, so there won't be any trouble for you. I just need you to read that statement and sign it, if it's correct."

She did so and was about to get up to leave when Bancroft stopped her. His eyes were on the report as he spoke. "It says you were waiting in the car. I was wondering why that was. Is there some problem between you and Detective Arthur?" He glanced up.

Sharon froze for a second, unsure how to explain. "No, not really. It's just..."

"Just what?"

She sighed inwardly. It wasn't that she minded telling him, but only her family, friends, and direct superiors knew. The Head of FID didn't exactly meet any of those qualifications. "I'm going to have a baby in October or so and Detective Arthur is just trying to keep me from doing anything spectacularly stupid," she said calmly.

Bancroft quirked his eyebrows. "Fair enough," he said looking back down at his files. "You're free to go, Sergeant. Congratulations."

She was somewhat surprised, but she took the dismissal happily and left the office. She was almost back out the door when one of the FID lieutenants stopped her. "Just a second, Sergeant. We need a photo of your injury for our records." She sighed and posed for what she was sure to be an awful photo of her dusty face and black eye. The man turned back to his desk and somewhere in the back of the room a door slammed open, then shut, in quick procession.

"I didn't even do anything!" a loud voice growled. "Nothing at all that time!"

Sharon smiled to herself and waited for Flynn and Provenza to catch up, before they all burst out into the hallway.

"Son of a bitch!" Provenza said loudly.

"Language," Sharon murmured, the word slipping out before she thought.

Provenza looked at her closely, but Flynn laughed. "Don't worry about it. It's just another slap on the wrist. I was given another warning for unnecessary force," he added for Sharon. "A couple of them were justified, but honestly, honestly, I just have the worst luck on the force. We get all the assholes."

"Tell me about it," Provenza grumbled."I've got one for everything in the book."

They reached the elevators, and Sharon stopped there. Provenza and Flynn bid her goodbye as they continued back to Robbery Homicide, Provenza mumbling something about 'Pineapple Monyca' and sodas.

When she reached her car, she tossed her purse in the passenger seat and reversed out, headed for Saint Joseph's daycare center. She arrived at five-twenty, not quite late, and realized she had never managed to clean up. She looked down and rubbed her black tie, flicking chips of dried blood out the window. In the rearview mirror she didn't look too bad; if she let her hair out of its bun it would fall to hide the majority of the black eye. She did so, then slid out of the car and walked inside.

There were a few other parents there, most of whom Sharon knew. She stood to the back of the group and watched the kids playing. The daycare was a large open room with a kitchen and a few other small rooms at the back. There was a small chapel in the hallway leading to the church main. After a moment, she stepped up and joined the others as the daycare attendants rounded up the last few kids and herded them to the coatroom. The other women casually included Sharon in their conversation.

"Have you been to the new store on Harper? It's a grocery, sells all sorts of organics."

"Did you see that they sell dehydrated peanut butter? Apparently you just add water is it's much healthier than regular. I've been to scared to try it though; it's nearly ten dollars a jar."

Sharon tuned most of the conversation out, only half listening unti someone called her name. "Hmm?"

"What happened to you face?" Marcia Pierce was tall, a doctor, beautifully dressed, as always.

"Oh." The others had turned to listen in. "At work-"

"You did that at work?" a new woman exclaimed. "Where in heaven's name-"

"Sharon's a cop, Sissy. Didn't you see the uniform?" Anna interrupted sarcastically. "Go on, Shar."

"We had a car chase and I ended up having to take someone out," Sharon started slowly. "I tackled him and it got a little heated."

Marcia laughed. "Just a little. I hope he looks worse." The woman was a wonderful ally. She and Sharon weren't incredibly close companions, but Marcia's son had some playdates with Ricky from time to time, and the two women had a colloquial friendship.

Sharon smiled back. "Don't worry. I heard I broke his nose." Sissy looked horrified, but the others laughed, turning away as the kids came running, toys and jackets in hand.

"Hey, buddy," Sharon said, kneeling to Ricky's level. "How's it going?"

Her son was towheaded, with curious green eyes and a bright smile. "Good. Me 'n' Neil played castles 'cause Sissa May let us make forts wif blankets."

"That sounds fun. Did you help Sister May clean up?"

"Yes!"

"Good. I hope you're hungry. I think Daddy made dinner tonight." She swept Ricky up onto her hip, where he wrapped his arms around her and balanced on her kitted-out belt. She waved goodbye to the sisters and headed out. She had just settled Ricky into his carseat and closed the door when someone tapped her shoulder.

"Sharon," Marcia started. "Tackling people? Really, are you sure everything's okay?"

"I'm fine Marcia. I didn't fall far and the guy was a good pillow."

Marcia frowned. "I'm not going to press it, but I do have some space tomorrow afternoon. If you change your mind and want to swing by just call. You do have my number, right?"

"Marci, honestly, you're the only neonatal doctor at Cedars. I think I can track you down if need be."

"Fine. But you'd better call tomorrow, to check in, if nothing else." She started walking back to her car. "There aren't too many Sharon Raydors in the LAPD, so don't think I can't find you." She smiled and waved as Sharon rolled her eyes.

Sharon opened the car door and slid into her seat. She turned the ignition over, then craned around to look at Ricky. "What do you say? Ready to go home?"

A/N- Thanks for the reviews; I'll try to get chapters up regularly. It's all just kinda being made up as I go along, with adjustments as needed. I don't really have a detailed plan for this, so feel free to leave suggestions. The church is loosely based off the one I went to and the idea for the takedown was from another (mis)adventure (;