A/N: Please be safe if any of you are out in the Los Angeles area. If not you, but someone you know, PLEASE check up on them and if they need help, do not hesitate. Seems these wild fires get worse and worse, the only thing scarier than any earthquake.

We can't stop nature and we can't always prevent man-made tragedies like what happened in New Orleans. What will get us through time and again is love and compassion. Once we sacrifice our humanity, there is no hope. Let's remember that.

For now, hold onto your hats for this chapter!

The pain hit him almost immediately. The cataclysmic headache struck him before he dared to open his eyes. Andre had never felt so lousy. Even the taste in his mouth was just awful; he could only imagine what his breath must seem like right now.

There was some light, but not much so the man widened the space between his eye lids ever so slowly.

Andre rolled onto his back, noticing the very familiar ceiling above him.

(I'm home?)

He sat up super-fast, pushing the blanket off his body. He grabbed his head, instantly regretting moving with such intensity. Deliberate footsteps began faint until they grew louder as they were entering the living room.

"Well, good morning, gorgeous!"

Andre looked up and saw a yawning Tori standing above him with a red coffee mug. He could see the steam rising from the container and the warm smell was unmistakable.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

He groaned, slinking back into a lying position.

"Like someone's been driving a railroad spike into my skull all night!"

Tori smirked.

"That sucks. Now, get up!"

"You're joking..." he sighed.

"NOPE!"

His partner got behind him and began to hoist his upper body from the arm of the sofa. He grumbled in protest, playing dead weight but Tori wouldn't relent. Eventually, Andre gave up and got into an upright position.

"Tori...I feel like shit right now..."

"Which is why you need to come into the kitchen and have some breakfast."

He looked up, squinting his tired eyes in disbelief.

"You're serious?"

"Unless some elves broke in here and fried up some bacon."

Andre blinked and begrudgingly sat up and followed his unwitting house guest into his own kitchen.

They entered the kitchen where Tori ran to the still hot stove.

"Ah, shit!" she said while tending to the greasy pan. "Hope you like your bacon extra crispy!"

"Is there any other way to take it?" he quipped while pulling up a chair by the round table.

Tori quickly plated the strips of cooked bacon onto a folded paper towel covering a plate. Her mom always did this to blot out the grease from the cooking process. She used to say: "it's already bacon, David. it doesn't need MORE reason to be bad for you!"

"How do you take your eggs?" she asked.

He grimaced at the thought of eggs. Andre liked them fine. His favorite was sunny side up, but right now he'd probably throw up if he saw them. Tori picked up on his queasy expression.

"Gotcha! Toast it is, then."

She didn't want to gross him out with her own, so Tori switched gears and decided on toast for both of them. On top of the fridge was a partial loaf of Italian white bread, which had more integrity to it than ordinary white bread. You can make a peanut butter sandwich without stabbing your way through the slice! Tori filled up the four slice toaster, which looked like an alien spaceship from a 1950's movie, and set the dial to medium.

"I didn't even know I had bacon," he mused.

"You did in the freezer!" Tori clarified as she sat down across from Andre. "No better hangover cure than a good breakfast. So, I took it out last night to thaw."

Andre cocked his head slightly.

"You really stayed with me the whole night?"

Tori shrugged; hands firmly clasped around her cup. She was relishing how it kept her palms warm. The pot itself was about an hour old, so it wasn't scalding.

"You did not look good back there," she admitted. "I kid but I was worried about you."

She lifted up the mug to sip her last couple of mouthfuls.

"By the way, you need to take me to the bar to retrieve my car since I drove yours."

"How'd you know where I live?" he asked.

The Latina furrowed her brow and pulled his wallet from her pocket. In the transparent card holder in the front was his driver's license.

"Told you I was a detective," she grinned.

Andre chuckled, covering his face at this absurd human being he was saddled with. He graciously accepted the returned wallet when she slid it across the table. How did it come to pass that this brown-haired woman from Southern California just showed up one day and shake everything up?

When he first laid eyes on her, he thought she would be in the way. And now here she was making breakfast in the wake of keeping vigil on him after getting fucking wasted? He had this Tori Vega all wrong. There was a real heart behind that badge. Beck would have made sure he got home safely, but this? Staying by his side in case something happened? And then making breakfast to help get him back to normal?

He smirked, starting to realize that the chief undersold his new partner.

She stood up to get some more coffee, checking on the toaster as she went. Without missing a beat, she had a plate ready to receive the slices of toast when they sprang up. Andre came right behind her, reaching for the coffee urn, when she brushed his arm aside. He looked at her confused when she flung the fridge open and procured a red Gatorade.

"No caffeine for you, mister! Not until you replace those electrolytes!"

Rather than protest, he went into the cabin by her head and grabbed a small bottle of Tylenol Extra Strength. Andre gave it a flick of the wrist and heard there was still aspirin inside.

"Oh, thank god" he sighed.

He opened it up, poured out 4 capsules and washed it down with his ice-cold Gatorade.

"Come on, let's eat!"

The two partners were seated at the table with bacon and toast, with their condiments in the middle. Andre preferred jam on his toast while Tori was drawn to butter. He raised a brow when she nearly drowned her bacon in maple syrup. The Latina didn't seem to mind that it was sugar-free. Anyone who gave it a chance found it hard to tell the difference.

"Listen...um..." he began, staring down at the gleaming red raspberry on his toast. He then sighed before lifting his eyes to face her. "Thanks for being concerned and sticking around like that."

Tori blinked in mid chew, managing a smile while finishing her mouthful.

"It's fine. I'm just sorry I upset you the other day."

(Is she really apologizing to me?)

Andre held up his hand.

"No, no, you didn't like drive me to drink or anything...It's my fault for keeping my shit buried inside. All you did was rip off the Band-Aid."

They ate in quiet for a few moments, the only sounds in the room besides the ticking clock where the soft sips of drink or the clanging of utensils.

"I want us to be more than partners, Andre..." Tori confessed. "I also want us to be friends, too. Like you and Beck."

He started to chuckle to himself, piquing Tori's interest.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," he smirked shaking his head. "Just remembering a story Traylor told me about Beck. I was just imagining his face."

Tori picked up on his smile but also the twinkle in his eye when Traylor was mentioned.

"What's she like?"

The detective, until she was shown otherwise, was still dealing with an alive person. They were after a murderer but there was also hope that it wasn't too late for her. Andre was pretty receptive to Tori's careful use of words. The language referred to Traylor in the present tense. Bethany and Lin were gone, so anybody who knew them would talk about who they "were." But Tori wanted to know what kind of person Traylor "is."

He admired her willingness to stay positive, no matter how grim.

"We met in school. Been tight for years, like really close." He set his bacon down and leaned forward. "Friends come and go and they can be fun. But there are those very special people who blow into your life and help shape who you are, you know?"

Tori couldn't speak from experience that she had someone that special. Unless you were to count people she wronged. Like Rosalinda. It was mostly happenstance but lo and behold, they were close for a hot minute. But the inevitable fallout made Tori confront the deception. It had a face. And it was that crestfallen expression Rosalinda had the moment Tori dialed 911 and outed herself. She made a vow after that to never be dishonest. It was one thing to use subterfuge to entrap a suspect or use interrogation tactics.

But Tori refused to put on a mask and deny who she was in such a way ever again. She was proud of what she did and as far as who she was as a person went, the people in her life would just have to accept her warts and all.

"Not to speak out of turn, but..." she cautiously broached the subject. "Were you two ever..."

"You ever hear those stories about how two people are just right for each other, but they don't do anything because they don't want to lose them?"

She nodded.

"That was us and it sucked. She was my best friend for years, Tori."

Tori put her hand on his and shook her head.

"Don't say 'was'! I promised to bust my ass to find her and the asshole responsible."

Andre nodded, refusing to start crying after the scene he caused the night before.

They slowly resumed eating. Tori checked the time on her phone.

"It's still pretty early," she noted. "When we finish, you can drive me to my car if you're up for it. I'll need to head back and shower."

"Same," he nodded. "Guess we would look suspicious if we showed up to work in what we wore the night before."

The tan woman shook her head, giggling.

"That would start some rumors."

"And I'd hate to piss off your boyfriend back home," he smirked.

Tori tilted her face.

"Boyfriend?"

He pointed to her left hand.

"I just assumed...didn't see a wedding band, so..."

"No boyfriend," Tori admitted. "Nobody really."

"Can't speak for the dating scene up here," he shrugged. "I'm sure there's someone interested who isn't Beck."

Tori snorted, nearly inhaling her coffee into her nasal passages. She knocked on her chest to get her faculties under control.

"Beck is traditionally handsome I guess, but...not my thing."

She forgot a moment that she was talking with a fellow detective, someone who had been doing this longer than her. He gave a knowing grin as he nodded. Tori began to put it together that he was putting something together.

"Maybe you have a special lady back home, then?"

Tori turned away, glowing redder than the jar of preserves on the table.

"Uh-oh!" he grinned. "There is, isn't there?"

She licked her lips before daring to reforge eye contact.

"There kind of was...but it ended pretty badly. My fault."

"Oh...I'm sorry."

"Live and learn," she shrugged.

Andre shoved the entire last strip of bacon into his mouth and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

"Chin up, Vega. Tomorrow's another day, right?"

She gazed at him incredulously.

"What?"

"You're telling me not to get discouraged, I want the same from you. OK?"

"What, that I'll find the girl for me up here?"

He stood up and cracked his neck from a night of sleeping on the couch.

"You'd be surprised."

An hour later, they were heading down the main street. Andre was beginning to feel his headache subsiding. He hoped to be over it by lunch. The pill bottle was on his person just in case he had a relapse later.

"You don't suppose they had my car towed, do you?" Tori asked.

He shook his head no.

"Ernie is pretty cool with that sort of thing. Now, if you left it all weekend, you're not going to have a vehicle come Monday."

Tori crossed her arms.

"Fair enough."

"PANDA!"

She was startled by the sudden outburst and sighed when she remembered that was the name of her rental. He pulled up next to the black and white Fiat and Tori got out.

"Thanks for the lift!"

"Just so you know, we are nowhere near even."

Tori grinned, after so many bad partnerships over the years to have this remarkable man in her corner. The least she could do was be there for him as well.

"I'll meet you at the station," he told her. "Now go wash off the stink so we can catch some bad guys!"

She waved as he drove away.

Checking the time, she figured if she hoofed it, she could get back to the motel, shower and change and be at the precinct in a half hour.

Tori returned roughly in the time frame she envisioned and met up with Andre in their room, joined with Beck.

"Hey, there she is!" the Canadian grinned.

"Sorry I'm a bit late..."

Andre waved her away.

"Nah, it's cool" he smiled.

She wasn't sure if Beck was in on what happened, how much Andre explained to him. So, Tori decided to just leave it at that and get down to business.

"Beck was telling me that you were having Robbie looking into a new angle."

"Yeah, I was wondering if we had any suspicious people skulking around the diner before or after or during Lin Deering's shifts."

Andre nodded, a look of being impressed about him. He then turned to his colleague.

"Hey, Beck...tell her about your theory."

Beck brushed his hair back, a little embarrass.

Tori made a tight face and pulled up a chair.

"A theory?" she mused. "Tell me!"

"It's a no-brainer that the killer does the deed elsewhere..." Beck started, pointing to the murder board. Her eyes followed to the sites of discovery circled with yellow Sharpie. "And that these are purely dumping grounds. But the more I looked at it, the more I'm thinking the window between the slaying and the disposal has got to be small!"

"How do you figure?" Tori asked.

"Just looking at the...brutality...it would be a lot to keep these corpses around...in the state that they were in."

Andre turned to Tori.

"The methodology had been a big mystery for us. Even Lane took a whack at it and something seems...off."

Tori rubbed her chin.

"I can wrap my head around getting rid of the body when its basically falling apart. It's only going to get worse as the hours go by."

"But why hold onto the victims for several days?" Beck asked. "The feels like a sociopath."

In criminal cases, one needed to differentiate between a sociopath and a psychopath. They often get conflated in popular culture, but they have a distinction. Both are capable of amoral and antisocial behavior, usually revolving around an overindulgent sense of self. An ego so massive that the laws of society do not apply to them. Rather than establishing meaningful relationships, they often see others as a means to an end.

For example, a parent with these tenancies would see their children as the upholders of their legacy, not vulnerable beings they were sworn to love and protect. Both lack empathy or a conscience. What sets them apart is what triggers their violent or manipulative actions. Psychopaths have a biological component, like mental illness. Sociopaths are influenced by the world around them, such as social constructs.

Beck cleared is throat.

"My hunch is that our man waffles between fantasy and reality to a harsh degree. Are you familiar with Don Quixote Syndrome?"

Tori shook her head, aware of the classic literary figure but not aware that there was a condition named after him.

"This is someone who has such a powerful hero complex," Andre explained. "That it consumes his thoughts."

"Imagine paranoia but the inverse of it," Beck went on. "Instead of worrying about people out to get him, he's convinced others are in danger."

He stood up and pointed at the two women on the board.

"Maybe two damsels?"

Tori leaned in, squinting.

"I'll bet you dollars to donuts this cat is a textbook misogynist, believing that only two kinds of women exist." Beck counted on his hand. "The mother...and the whore. I remembered reading a book about a woman who was sexually assaulted in college and this guy she knew was obsessed with being her knight in shining armor. He would constantly follow her around, it was very weird."

"She gets attacked and hero boy makes it about himself," sighed Tori with folded arms.

"Exactly," Beck nodded. "So, I was thinking...picture this...he's driving around, sees a sex worker and he's of two minds. On the one hand, his heart goes out to the shivering young lady who has to make her living servicing strangers. On the other hand, she's damaged goods and needs to be put out of her misery."

"And that's why you think he holds them for a while!" she pointed.

"Bingo!" snapped Andre. "This sicko is basically at war with himself until eventually...the darker side wins."

Beck let him arms drop.

"Like I said..." he sighed. "It's just a theory. I wish it could bring us closer to finding the son of a bitch!"

"Speaking of which," Tori said standing up. "Let's head down to the basement."

Traylor was pacing around her "bedroom" as it were.

It was pretty much just that, a place where there was a bed and little else. She felt like an animal in a zoo and it was driving her insane.

The house was eerily quiet much of the time.

But one night...

One night, Hal sounded like he was going insane.

She heard the footsteps going up the stairs, heading west presumably to his own room as he did this every night. To hold onto her sanity, Traylor got into the habit of counting the steps to see where he was going. Thirteen steps...his bedroom. 21 steps...hers.

That night, while in his room, Traylor was violently woken up by shrill screams. Hal sounded like he was dying but nobody else was in this house. He kept shouting for whomever was distressing him to go away. She pondered if he had night terrors because they can feel so real at the time. But Hal didn't have this happen until the third or fourth night.

It was hard to tell, to keep track of the days.

Traylor rarely caught a glimpse of natural sunlight, her days and nights being lit by purely artificial sources.

Footsteps again.

But these were heavier, quicker than normal. At least as normal as within this fucking house.

Hal burst in and grabbed Traylor by the wrist, quick with the handcuffs. He was a large man but he moved as swiftly as someone half his size. Before she knew it, both hands were bond behind her. She never had a chance. He then stuffed a clean sock into her mouth and hoisted her into a fireman's carry, slinking her over his broad shoulders. She kicked with all her might, but it was pointless.

She knew what this was.

He was leading her down into the cellar. But he was being real deliberate and quick about it this time.

This wasn't like when the plumber came over. This was something else.

"Talk to me, Shapiro!"

He turned in his chair to see the detectives lined up.

"Whoa!" Robbie grinned. "It's the Three Musketeers!"

"Please tell me you found something," huffed Beck.

"Hey, it's me! Rob never disappoints!"

Andre whispered in Tori's ear, "I felt there was meant to be a ladies at the end of that."

Tori giggled and nudged him. Beck raised a brow at the little private joke going on between them.

"Okay...I went back two weeks prior to the first girl's disappearance...and this guy frequented the diner at least nine times!"

The spectacled guy leaned back in his chair dramatically like a Bond villain ready to unveil his coup de grace.

"And every single one of them was in the afternoon or early evening," he nodded.

"Lin's usual shift," Tori nodded.

"We have a good look at him?" Andre pressed.

Rob sighed and shook his head.

"No dice and when I try to zoom in on the stupid license plate, it's all distorted."

"Damn," Beck huffed.

"What kind of vehicle is that?" pointed Tori.

Shapiro typed on his keyboard and guided the footage with his mouse.

"Right around here is the best view of the guy's car...and it's a blue...Chevy...something."

"That's a midsize SUV," Beck clarified. "Equinox? Blazer? hard to tell."

Andre sighed, putting his hand on Rob's shoulder.

"Still got that connection at the DMV?"

"You bet!"

"I'll forward you a list of who were questioned about Deering's appearance and see who matches that guy's description."

Tori stretched and looked upward.

"Hey gang, anybody hungry?"

"I could eat," Beck admitted.

"How about we revisit the diner, have a look around and maybe grab a bite?"

Andre eyed her, wondering what she had in mind.

Hal was pouring sweat.

He had Traylor in his house for a week now and his anxiety grew with each passing day.

"You're in too deep..." he muttered to himself like a dark actualization. "Too deep. Too deep."

The large man checked his watch, noting that it was nearly 2 pm. He had to hurry and get back before long. Traylor was subdued and silenced downstairs, but he tried not to leave her for longer than a couple of hours.

Hal was able to stave off of work by using his stored-up vacation time while he figured things out. He may have to leave that job and seek employment elsewhere. Something in town. Or maybe, relocate with her down south. Either way, he couldn't move like he used to. That was why Hal didn't own a pet; now he had a whole living person in his cellar.

Even in his delusion, Hal couldn't keep this up. He would have to implement a more...permanent solution.

But for now, he needed supplies.

He was fresh out of cleaning products and some of the food in the refrigerator spoiled. Everything was such a mess! Hal loaded up his Chevy and breathed deeply, desperately holding it together. Gazing down at his phone, he looked at it for two minutes solid, expecting it to ring.

He prayed it wouldn't.

Hal got into the car, shaking his head to focus. His meaty hand gripped the steering wheel while the other fumbled with the glove box.

Out popped a gun.

That gun.

Horrific memories flooded his mind, and he suppressed them. If only he could put the past in the cellar and forget about it.

"You got this," he told himself. "Just get to the store and head back."

Beck and Andre hung back while they observed their newest recruit. She was squinting and rotating with her arms stretched. Tori looked like a drunk traffic cop on the sidewalk.

"What'cha doin?" smirked Andre.

"Working out the angles..." the tan woman replied, pointing to a traffic light with a black box on the end. "We saw from that camera." She moved a few steps down and the boys followed. "The car went this way, but we can't tell which direction he turned."

They were starting to pick up what she was putting down.

"If we check with the bar across the street, or the tattoo place..." Beck mused.

"They might have CCTV pointing to the sidewalk..." added Andre. "We might be able to see his exit."

"That's only the beginning," Tori sighed, turning to face her colleagues. "There's a whole mess of roads past downtown."

Andre gave her an encouraging look.

"Anything to eliminate a dead end is welcome." He gave the stink eye to Beck. "Better get inside. I can hear your stomach growling over here!"

"Give me a break," Beck huffed. "My metabolism makes it impossible to go more than a few hours without something."

They entered Dom's Diner and found a friendly face seated at the counter.

"Doc? How's it going?" Andre smiled.

Reynolds turned around and lit up at his buddy on the force.

"I actually get a glimpse of the illusive Detective Harris." He shook his hand and reached over to shake Beck's. "Oliver! You're getting along with my man, Andre?"

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"Was wondering if you just live at the station these days!" he nodded. "Oh, and who is this?"

Tori blushed a bit, clearing her throat before offering her hand.

"Yes, Tori Vega."

"Dr. Gregory Reynolds," he smirked accepting her hand to shake. "I actually heard about you."

"Oh, really?" she chuckled.

"News can travel, even in the morgue." The doc went to sip his coffee. "I've been occupied with Jane Doe, who is no longer nameless!"

"That's great," Andre smiled.

Reynolds wiped his mouth and placed his empty cup on the empty plate.

"We can thank Jade for that!" he said with total pride. "Sharper than any knife in my arsenal!"

"Uh...who's Jade?"

They both turned to Tori while Beck quietly excused himself to the restroom, looking rather comfortable.

"She's my protege," Reynolds explained. "The best damn medical examiner this town's ever seen if I do say so."

"Well...I'd like to meet her," Tori grinned.

"She's out of town," Andre said.

"Uh-huh," confirmed Reynolds. He then checked his silver wristwatch. "Yikes! I'd better skedaddle. Gotta head to the florist and then home."

Tori and Andre shook hands and smiled again to say their goodbyes while the good doctor took his leave.

"He's pretty chipper for a guy who dissects dead people. Is... Jade as sunny?"

Andre rubbed his neck.

"Not exactly..."

SCREEEEEEECHHH!

HONK! HONK!

SCREEEEE...

THUMP!

Their ears perked up at the commotion, but the screams made them take off like a shot outside. Andre's eyes widened at Dr. Reynolds on his side, blood on his face.

"WHAT HAPPENED?!" Andre shouted at the onlookers.

"HE HIT HIM!" a lady screamed. "THAT CAR!"

He turned just in time to see the rear end of a blue car speed away. It felt like a gust of wind when Tori brushed past him and took off on foot. Andre was flabbergasted at how she went into a full run like a gazelle. His attention had to be on tending to the unconscious doctor.

"Someone call an ambulance NOW!" Andre demanded.

Beck burst out of the diner and looked around.

"What happened?"

"Hit and run!" he huffed. "He went east, I think. Get in the car and follow!"

"Where's Tori?" Beck asked.

"Take a wild guess."

Tori had maintained her regimen to stay fit, but she hadn't done a run like this in a while.

This was her first real run since the accident.

Her legs were like the pistons in a diesel engine, just propelling her forward with the utmost efficiency. Even when a shooting pang in her side began to manifest, Tori refused to acknowledge it. Her focus was on the blue car. It looked very similar to the one they saw earlier on the traffic cam. She prayed that her photographic memory wouldn't fail her now and she read the plate very carefully. If she lost him, she would at least have that.

This bastard was really trying to shake her up, turning left and right and right. But with the amount of foot traffic and slower agricultural vehicles, Mr. Hit and Run couldn't accelerate more than he would have wanted. More crashed would only hinder his escape.

Tori's phone rang and she answered it.

"WHAT?" she huffed.

"Are you insane?" scolded Beck. "You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Bullshit! Just go down Stark's Road and try to head him off."

Beck pleaded, "But Tori..."

"NO! Now go before I lose him!"

She shoved her phone back into her pocket, eyes still trained on the car.

The driver burned rubber coming to a hairpin K-turn and sped down an unpaved road. Without missing a beat, Tori vaulted over the wooden fence which got her down the hill fast enough to keep up with the blue car.

He was about to shake her when Tori attempted to clear another fence, but the wood was rotting, making the whole thing collapse under her weight. Tori landed face first into the thick mud, momentarily blinded by the cold wet dirt. All she could make out was the car's engine growing fainter.

She wiped her eyes clear and saw that she had lost him.

"FUCK!"

Andre accompanied Dr. Reynolds in the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

He texted Beck to meet him there once the crime scene was secure. First thing he did was find Greg's cell phone and contact his wife, Camille. She was confused and concerned when she picked up her husband's number and he answered. Andre explained he was with the Langley Police Department and that Greg was involved in a hit and run and is with him right now going to Emergency.

She tearfully processed the vital information and gave an absent-minded thank you before hanging up.

Andre licked his lips, seeing the hospital in sight.

He stepped back so the paramedics could get Reynolds through the doors without incident. Andre flashed his badge, informing the doctors what had happened. They asked him curtly to stay back while they checked him out.

His phone dinged and his face fell when he saw his partner's reply: FOUND TORI. HE GOT AWAY.

"Fuck!" Andre cursed.

Thinking for a second, he thought of the only other logical person right now to call.

RING RING RING

"Hello?"

"JADE?" he shakily replied.

His troubled tone was apparent over the phone.

"What's wrong?"

"Something happened."

A/N: NEXT CHAPTER: Jade Returns!