Slipping on his sunglasses, Ryan hit the pavement, texting Fulton his ETA, although he would rather do anything but look at that guy's mug today. He was needed at home, where Felix was probably having a panic attack. The mask of calm she wore after melting down in his bedroom hadn't fooled him. She was terrified. As the stream of joggers and morning commuters propelled Ryan forward, he put his brain on autopilot, using the free time to reminisce about Felix's lace-covered ass. In fact, it fueled him during his three mile walk.

"You're up early, Clark." Harris acknowledged Ryan from behind his shelf of paperwork, looking sleep deprived. "What time did you get in last night?"

"Around midnight, but we didn't get to bed until after two."

"We?" Harris glanced up from his desk, letting a rare smile contort the hard lines of his face. "You find yourself a southern belle and bring her all the way back to Chicago?"

"No. Forget I said that." Ryan yanked the baggie with the flash drive out of his pocket and slapped it on the desk. "I found this at Jenny Mason's home hidden in a shoebox. It links her to the people we helped her get away from. It seems she had a hard time adapting to life as a medical office assistant and was doing a little hacking on the side. The coding is very specific and it matches the signature of the criminals connected to the Donovan case."

"Two things. Why did you have this shoved into your pocket rather than following protocol with federal evidence? And who helped you figure out the coding? You're no expert."

Ryan expected Harris to read him the riot act for the flash drive, but he usually got away with rogue maneuvers if he could provide justification. Like now.

"It's like this," he said as he dropped into a chair. "The night I identified Jenny's body, I had a girl show up at my door asking for my help. Actually, she's a neighbor I grew up with. Her name is Felicity Taylor. She claimed she witnessed a murder and was escaping the people responsible. It turns out the murder she witnessed was Jenny Mason's. Felix has been dating one of the guys involved. She apparently helped him develop a coding system that is used to hack into financial accounts and funnel money out of them. She's ready to talk in exchange for immunity."

Harris' head bobbed for the duration of Ryan's speech, stopping to acknowledge whoever had walked up behind him. "Let's hear what the expert has to say."

Fulton strode over and hefted himself into a chair, crossing his arms over his government-issue shirt. "First of all, where is this neighbor who you've been protecting in spite of her connection to known criminals?"

Ryan suppressed the desire to introduce his fist to Fulton's face, addressing him calmly and in words the prick would understand. "She is at my apartment. I'm going to take her confession today and make a full report. Harris will have it by the end of the day."

"And what gives you the right to handle this on your own?" Fulton continued, just as Ryan expected. "There are safe houses we can place the girl in if she's in mortal danger. I think we should take a ride to your apartment right now and bring her back here for the confession. Then we can all decide what the best course of action is."

Ryan looked at Harris, who had been uncharacteristically quiet while Fulton told him how to do his job. Fulton may have been a federal agent for twelve years, but he traded that badge for a walkie-talkie and a billy club. Ryan addressed Harris as he presented his argument.

"I don't know to what extent Felix has been involved in the criminal activity, and it was not an hour ago that she finally agreed to give us names. She's scared and has put her trust in me. If that trust is broken, she may not be willing to help us. I did manage to overhear the name Donovan during a phone conversation."

Harris' eyebrows slid up to meet the swath of hair he kept plastered with gel. "Really? Does she know anything that might help us track him down?"

"I haven't asked those questions yet. I was going to today."

Fulton scraped his chair back and grunted himself out of it. "Then I suggest we take a ride to your place and find out what she knows."

Ryan scowled. "I don't want to pull up in front of my building in a squad car. My neighbors don't know I'm a fed and I'd like to keep it that way."

Fulton matched Ryan's scowl. "Are you sure you're not worried your neighbors will think you spent the night in jail?"

"Christ, you two sound like a couple of bickering old maids." Harris picked up the baggie with the flash drive and shoved it at Ryan. "Just get the information we need to close this case and let me have a shitty Monday morning in peace."

Ryan relented to Fulton's insistence they take the squad car to his apartment, mostly because he wasn't in the mood to argue with the prick. On their way, Ryan sent a text to Felix, letting her know he was bringing Fulton to the apartment. When they pulled up, she still hadn't responded. He tried not to read too much into it. She tended to ignore texts, since most of them came from assholes. It wasn't until he opened the door that Ryan wished he had called Felix. They caught her watching television in a tee shirt and panties with a towel wrapped around her head.

"Holy shit!" she cursed as she grabbed a nearby blanket and threw it over her lap. "You said you'd be a few hours."

"Sorry, Felix. I sent a text saying we were heading over. This is Officer Fulton. He's working on the case with me. He insisted we come here to take your statement."

She stood and waved, but avoided eye contact with Fulton as she shuffled toward the hall. "Excuse me while I make myself presentable."

"Now I get why you were keeping her to yourself," Fulton said as he watched Felix disappear into Ryan's bedroom. "I suppose you already hit that. Your reputation is legend at the precinct."

"Fuck you, Fulton. Let's just do what we came here to do."

Ryan escaped to the kitchen, putting some distance between himself and Fulton's smirk. The amount of protectiveness he felt for Felix had approached the extreme. He determined this by the amount of restraint needed to keep his fists inside his pockets. There was no turning back for him, and only one road ahead. The road Felix was on.