A/N: Okay...this is my first story in months and months, so please go easy on me. Also, I know I'm not the best Ed Green, trust me, I know. Also, there's no partner in this fic, because...well...I suck at Ed, I don't want to know how I'd do with Briscoe. Oh and this may be a bit cheesy :P I'm not too happy with the ending, but meh

Also, if you're a fan of Ed/Cha-Cha...I have an RP site. I play Cha-Cha and used to have Ed too, but...I was a mess. It would be really really nice if someone could play him...I know it's kind of tacky to ask, but if you;re interested, the link to the site is in my profile. Just if you're interested and want to RP Ed and Cha-Cha like I do...

Anyway, sorry about that. Don't own Law and Order or Flaweless.

It wasn't as though she was ever, ever close with her family...so tears and sniffling and what could almost be called all out blubbering was completely unacceptable. And stupid, and...unattractive. Particularily the blubbering. Miss Flawless didn't blubber! Whales blubbered!! But despite her valient effort to quell the them, her tearducts were rather uncooperative. And she was sure her mascara was paying the price.

Cha-Cha could barely believe she'd been happy when Detective Ed Green had come to her door. Well..he did have a nice face, it wasn't so much of a shock. But she'd been so stupid, so absolutely clueless to the fact there could only be bad news in store. He was a homocide detective, of course there'd be bad news. But no, no, she fluttered around like a butterfly on speed, trying to make coffee and pleasantries and batting her eyelashes until with a semi-stern "Miss," he seated her. He didn't have much time to chat, as kind (flirty was what he meant, she was sure, but didn't say) as she was.

Her baby brother was dead. Murdered. Only twenty one and found in the back room of some seedy, godforsaken club with a...a...well, she didn't want to think about the details. That was a little too much. And they didn't even matter anyway. She'd only seen him the month before, and he was just fine. Healthy and happy and most importantly, alive. But now...

Mr. Detective was looking at her and he was sad, or he looked sad, it was hard to tell. There was a chance he genuinely felt for her, his heart and soul was going out to her, one of those emotional types. Or more likely, he'd gotten good at faking the sad look. Probably that one. She doubted she was the first one he'd ever had to break bad news to. Not even close. Still though, that it kind of felt like he gave a damn was a little comforting. Not too much, but she'd take what she could get.

It was clear he was there to do a job though. After a few minutes he reached across with the tissue box off her coffee table. He had questions he needed answered so she had to get herself composed pretty soon. "Miss..." (Santos? Perez? Cueva? Who knew?) "I do understand your position, I do. But you realize...in order to find your brother's murderer...you're going to need to answer some questions."

She nodded her head slowly, wiping her eyes gently. Black smudges stained the white kleenex. Good god, she probably looked absolutely disgusting. She was torn between caring and not caring, but still put the tissue down. "Yeah...sorry, I...yeah, I know," Cha-Cha never had trouble speaking, not unless there was something really wrong. Or if she had one too many.

He asked her all the questions she'd been expecting and she answered them to the absolute best of her ability. Were you close with your brother? When was the last time you spoke? Was he acting differently, oddly? Do you have any idea who murdered your brother? Any other information that could relate to your brother's murder? Murder murder murder?

"Could you...do me a small favour?" she asked softly. "Could you...not...mention murder? Could you just say...the thing, or something? The guy? I'll know what you're talking about, just...you know," she finished with a sigh. He looked up from his notes and nodded in understanding.

"We're almost done here, Miss, I promise. There's just one more thing..." he paused and she raised her eyebrows. "Miss...where were you on the evening on Tuesday, June 5th, 2007, at approximately 8:00 PM?"

Wait. He coulsn't think she...of course he could. It was his job. Of course, he had to ask. But he didn't honestly think she...would be... "You don't...oh my god. I was performing. The Busty Rusty drag show, and I have a whole slew of people who can back me up on that. I mean, I headline! Honest..." she trailed off as he watched her. Eyebrows raised, a small smile appearing on his face. "Hm?"

"Thought you looked familiar," he mumbled, looking down at his notes with a smile as he jotted down her answer. She sort of had to wonder for a moment, if she heard him right. But once she made her conclusion, she jumped.

"You know it?" she asked, a small bit of her original butterfly-on-speed mood zipping back. Not the whole thing but she was definitely, visably enthused. She didn't think anybody good went! Not really. She'd had a few boyfriends who went, and had met a few boyfriends there, but it was mostly just tourists and scumballs. Said past boyfriends included in the scumballs.

"Just sometimes," he replied with a small smile. Cha-Cha de los Santos Perez Cueva did not blush. She didn't but she couldn't really help it when Ed added a, "You're good. I knew I knew your face, your name...I just couldn't place it." Odd, considering how could you misplace a name like hers? But it didn't matter. This was...phenominal. This was the start of something, something...she could feel it. "I think we're about done here, miss. I thank you for your cooperation. We'll keep you informed."

She nodded, not moving for a second. Before springing up. "Wait, well...want some more coffee? Or a...cookie or something?" Or maybe my phone number, something like that? He left her with smile, the door clicking shut quietly.

Cha-Cha was never one who could stay sad for long. It just wasn't her nature. She mourned for an hour or two before something new, something exciting took it's place. Sure she still felt sad, probably would wince at the mention of murders for some time to come.

But at the moment, for that moment...forget speed. She hadn't even touched the man's hand and she was in ecstacy.