When Danni had first learned that she was going to be partnered with Charlie Crews, the "Killer Cop," she had expected a hardened, bitter man with a grudge. She hadn't expected this bright eyed, smiling man who constantly (annoyingly) quoted Zen and seemed to have a love affair with fruit. She had expected someone who hated the world. Instead, she got someone who was intent on loving it.

Still, there was sometimes something in his eyes, underneath the mirth. Something cold. It was never too present. Danni still remembered two times she had truly seen it take over. Once was when the prison guard had referred to the inmates as "convicts." She had truly thought that the two were going to go at it, and she knew that if Crews attacked the guard, the guard would lose. Never had Danni been more relieved than when Crews started spewing his Zen crap. It was annoying, but at least it was harmless.

The second time had been one of the few times that Danni had been truly scared of Crews. They had just brought in Roman Novikov. Crews had been his normal, jovial, not-entirely-sane self when Novikov had spoken the question they all wanted answered.

"Just between you and me, you really did kill that family, didn't you?" Danni's eyes had shot to her partner. Crews' expression never changed, but his eyes did. They went from the color of a mountain spring to hard pools of ice. For a moment, Danni wasn't afraid that Crews would attack Novikov; she was afraid that Crews would kill him. Novikov seemed to sense the danger and switched to attacking her. That she could handle. That look in Crews' eyes…she never, ever wanted to see that again.

The drive was mostly silent until Crews (as always) interrupted.

"When Roman said those things, did you want to shoot him?" The question, just like all of his questions, took her off guard.

"Yes," she replied, but she wasn't talking about the comments about her drug issue. That she was used to, if ashamed. No, she wanted to shoot-to kill- Novikov because it wasn't just hate in Crews' eyes. It was pain and a deep sorrow.

"Me too." A brief pause. "Did you see yourself shooting him?"

"Yes." Because although that look had answered that question-Was her partner a murdered did he kill his friends-it had also reminded her that those people had been his best friends. And he hadn't even gotten to attend their funeral, to explain or defend himself to the daughter. He had been locked away and punished for a crime that hurt him more than anyone realized, and released twelve years later to more suspicion. She never wanted to see that look ever again.

"Me too." Because they had both seen the pain in each other's eyes, and neither ever wanted to see that again.