A/N: I've been considering writing this story ever since the end of Chicago PD's previous season. Hank and Anna's story, and how much it hurt him when she was killed made me feel for him, and wonder why the writers have never given him any happiness. I figured if they're not going to do it, I would do it myself.

This story takes place two weeks after S10 E4.

Hank Voight had just made a decision that would change his life. Not that he knew that. He thought he had merely decided upon the detective he wanted to recruit to Intelligence Unit.

After the departure of Jay Halstead, the team was in poor shape. Worse shape than Hank had realised until it had suddenly dawned on him. There was only one detective currently on the team, Hailey Upton, and she was struggling big time after Jay's abrupt departure. The man was her husband after all. The rest of the team only held officer rank, and although Kim Burgess, Adam Ruzek and Kevin Atwater were all good cops and had years of service with Intelligence behind them, Hank knew it was time he encouraged one or two of them to go for promotion to detective. Kim was definitely ready, in his opinion.

But the unit lacked an experienced detective. Having accepted that fact, Hank had turned his attention to recruitment, working on it after hours, and now on a Sunday night. After all, work was all he had in life. The loss of Anna Avalos had drilled that into his head, incredibly painfully so. His wife was dead. His son was dead. He never got to see Daniel, his grandson, and hardly ever heard from Erin, his foster daughter. Things had never been the same between them since she had left Chicago for New York. And now Anna was gone too. They were all gone.

To avoid thinking about the emptiness and loneliness of his existence, Hank worked whether he was on shift or not. On nights like this one, he worked in an office at home.

On his desk sat a stack of personnel files. He had placed calls to many of the contacts he had made over the years, from various police forces around the country. They had all been asked the same question: Could they recommend an experienced detective who was talented enough and potentially available to join Intelligence. Each one if the files on the desk related to a name he had been given. Over the past couple of weeks, Hank had whittled down those names, until he had been left with a very tough decision between the final two names.

That final decision had taken Hank two nights to make. Frankly, Intelligence would be lucky to have either one of the candidates. But Hank had made the selection. The file of Intelligence's new detective, assuming she accepted the offer when he made it, lay open in front of him. He looked over the front page once more, although his mind was now made up.

Kalinda Rai. Aged 50. Born in London, England to Indian parents who had emigrated there. Educated in London, and trained as a police officer by the Metropolitan Police. Moved to the USA when aged 32, and now an American citizen. Marital status: Divorced. Currently holding the rank of detective, she worked a vice desk in Milwaukee, not far from Chicago. Her service record was excellent, and she had several commendations to her name.

Hank looked at the accompanying picture. He knew it was a recent photo. What he saw was an attractive woman who didn't look her age. He would have probably guessed 40. She had the brown skin tone, black hair and dark brown eyes from her Indian heritage. To him she somehow didn't look like a detective, more like a sales executive or something. Maybe it was the way her hair was worn in a tight bun. Anyway, not looking like a detective was more of an asset in In Intelligence's line of work, not a detriment.

Having made the decision to approach Kalinda about the job, Hank figured he could go do it in person. He didn't expect her to turn Intelligence down, but making the effort to speak to her face to face would make it even less likely. Milwaukee wasn't far. He could drive up there in the morning. Calling ahead was an option, however he figured if he called her he might as well just give her the offer over the phone. No, he wouldn't call.

Plan in place, he sent a text to Hailey, telling her to take charge in the morning as he wouldn't be in until around midday. Although she was having a rough time of late, he trusted her with the responsibility.

He got up and left the office, looking forward to what he assumed would be a positive and successful meeting in the morning.

There was nothing remarkable about the police station that Kalinda Rai worked out of. It wasn't dissimilar to the 21st that Intelligence called home, or to hundreds of other stations around the country. The only thing Hank found noteworthy when he walked in was that the desk sergeant had a more pleasant demeanour than Trudy Platt often displayed. He was a tall, well-built black man with a bald head and a smile on his face.

"Morning. Help you, sir?"

Hank found it best to return politeness in kind, especially with fellow police. You never knew when you might need a favour from someone, even if the possibility seemed remote.

"Morning. Sergeant Hank Voight, Chicago PD. I'd like to speak to Detective Rai, if she's in." He figured she would be. That was why he had shown up a few minutes after the start of the shift. It would suck if she was on vacation or something, he thought. Maybe calling ahead would have been the better idea after all.

"I saw her walk in about ten minutes ago, sir," the man said. He then called out to a uniform who happened to be about to leave the building. "Hey, Neil. Would you take Sergeant Voight here up to the first floor? Thank you. I'll call ahead for you," he added, speaking to Hank.

"Thank you," he replied. The first floor was apparently how the guys who worked in this station referred to the vice squad's office.

"Sure thing, Sarge," said the overweight cop with greying hair. "Follow me."

The cop didn't make conversation as he led Hank through the station and up a wide flight of stairs, which was just fine with him. He wasn't there for idle chit chat.

When they reached the top of the stairs, the officer called Neil gestured off to the right. "Vice are just down there, sir."

Hank nodded his gratitude, then walked down the hallway and into the vice bullpen. It was about the same size as Intelligence's, and laid out in a similar way. The desks were not as tidy though, he noticed. It annoyed him slightly.

Kalinda Rai was walking down the aisle in the middle of the desks towards him, apparently having received the call ahead from downstairs. She was quite short at five feet four, and pretty, with a slightly confused smile on her face. She was wearing a dark blue suit and a white blouse, not the kind of thing she would be able to show up to work for Intelligence wearing. Her hair was in the same tight bun as in the picture from her file.

"Sergeant Voight? I'm Kalinda Rai. Can I help you with something?" she said in a rather posh-sounding English accent. It seemed the years living in America hadn't had any effect on it. Hank liked it. How could you not?

"Hank," he said, offering his hand. They shook. Her hand was soft, quite cold. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

"It'll have to be the interview room, unless you want to try booting my captain out of his office?"

Hank no-sold the humour because that was his style. But inside, it did amuse him a little. "The interview room will work."

"Actually, forget that. There's a canteen downstairs. We can go and grab a coffee. I'm bloody dying for one."

The English manner of speaking would take some getting used to. But coffee did sound good, so Hank nodded. "Coffee it is."

They headed for the stairs. Apparently Kalinda considered being out of the vice bullpen to be privacy, questioning him as soon as they left. "So, what's this about, Hank? Seems to me it's not about a case."

Sharp, he thought. If it was about a case, or police work in general, the conversation would be taking place on a phone call or via email.

"Let's get that coffee, then we'll talk."

"Okay then."

He followed her down the stairs, turned left, and walked into the canteen further down the hallway. There was nobody else in there. Perfect.

The coffee was dispensed by a vending machine. They made their selections, Hank letting Kalinda go first, and went over to one of the tables.

"Okay, Hank, what's so important to merit a visit from the boss of Intelligence Unit? I've heard of you. One of CPD's elite units."

Hank got the distinct impression that she was a straight shooter. Another positive as far as he was concerned. Straight shooting worked best for him. "I'm here to offer you a spot on the team."

"I see," Kalinda said thoughtfully, seeming like she might have figured that out already over the past couple of minutes. "Out of interest, why me?"

He told her she came recommended, and told her who had given her name. "I asked around, got quite a lot of names. You were the best of them. I only recruit the best."

If Kalinda was flattered, she didn't show it. "Good to hear. Tell me more about what you do and how you work."

So he did. He laid out how a lot of the unit's work involved drugs, undercover ops, and quite often dangerous situations and shoot outs. He already knew she was trained on assault rifles and combat shotguns. People who were not had been discarded during his selection process.

"From what I've heard, you guys sometimes sail pretty close to the wind," she said, face impassive. Poker might have been a money maker for her. He knew perfectly well that she was saying she knew the rules were bent from time to time by his unit. Maybe even broken.

"That kind of thing a problem for you?" he asked, confirming or denying nothing. But failing to deny it implied confirmation.

"No," she said without hesitation. "But I wouldn't want to take a job without knowing what I'll be asked to do there."

"Now you know." Hank let that serve as further confirmation that he would do whatever he deemed necessary to protect Chicago, and the victims of the cases he took on. He was not going to apologise for it. Never had. Never would. But he hadn't outright said it, either.

"It would mean relocating," Kalinda said, seriously mulling the idea over.

"It would mean an increase in pay," Hank said. One final carrot to dangle in front of her.

They talked numbers while drinking their coffees. He made his best offer. She didn't show signs of being impressed, but she nodded slowly, taking time to consider it all.

"I have friends in Chicago I can borrow a room from until I get something permanent set up," she announced. It served as an acceptance of his offer.

"How long do you need before you can start?"

"Give me a week to clear a few things off my desk and make arrangements in Chicago."

"See you a week today at the 21st," Hank said, pleased.

Kalinda offered her hand and they shook on the deal. "I'll look forward to making a positive contribution to your team."

"I've no doubt you'll do that," he said. He downed what remained of his coffee, and with that the meeting was over. Intelligence had its new recruit.

"I'll walk you out," Kalinda said, finishing her own drink.

They left the canteen. Out in the hallway, a guy who looked like a detective to Hank passed them by. He studied Hank for a second, before nodding to Kalinda.

"KR," he said in greeting.

"Hey," Kalinda said to him.

Hank looked at her as they continued walking, turning up a corner of his mouth in the beginnings of a smile. "KR?"

"We had a young lad on the team for a short time a couple of years ago. He started calling me KR. Somehow it went around the station and stuck. Now everyone here uses it. I don't mind, really."

They were already in the entrance hall. Time to part ways. Hank fished one of his calling cards out of his jacket pocket and handed it over. "Good to meet you. If I can help with anything ahead of next Monday, call me."

Kalinda looked at the card and nodded. "I'm sure I'll be fine, but thank you. I'll see you then."

She came across as an independent person who didn't like asking others for help. Hank could relate.

He left the station feeling happy with his morning's work. Choosing Kalinda and driving to Milwaukee to meet her had proven to be a good decision for him.

At the time, he had no idea how good it would prove to be.

A/N: Let me know if you would like to see more of this. I'm up for making it a full story if there is interest.