Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Major Crimes; they are not my intellectual property. I am not financially benefiting from this story in any way.

Notes: Hello *waves*! I'm starting a new story (yay!) It's been a while - so here's hoping I'm not too rusty (pun entirely intended).

Thanks to Mel for the beta!

Pleasurewood Pines

It was a balmy morning in LA; a scattering of cloud sheltered the city from the full heat of the sun. Captain Sharon Raydor looked out over the skyline from a vantage point – absorbing the last moments of calm on her balcony, before she was forced to join the congested network of roads below.

Even though Sharon had arisen almost an hour ago, she still felt the draw of her bed; she hadn't slept at all well last night. After hours of tossing and turning, she had given up around 5am and headed to the bathroom for a shower.

The presence of another person in her bed was taking a while to get used to. After years of living and sleeping alone – it had been the thought of starting a new sexual relationship that had kept her awake at night. It needn't have however – in that department they were really quite compatible.

It was the 'actually sleeping' part that was proving to be more challenging. Sharon slept light and Andy snored, he liked to cuddle and she was prone to hot flushes; it would be comical if she weren't so damn exhausted.

As Sharon took a sip of her coffee – hoping the bitter liquid would help to revive her senses - she heard the patio doors slide open behind her. She felt the cold bite of air-conditioning against the backs of her legs, before that coolness was replaced with the soft brush of slept-in fabric.

"Morning, beautiful." Andy muttered near her ear as he looped his arms around her waist and placed a warm kiss to her cheek.

"Good morning," Sharon leant back into his embrace, a contented smile touching her lips. Just like that – with such a simple gesture - her annoyance at a poor nights sleep drifted away. She placed a hand over his at her waist; she wouldn't change this for the world. "Did you sleep well?"

"Always," he rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice still a little raspy from a heavy nights sleep.

"You're already dressed; you've been up for ages..."

"Wow," Sharon laughed softly, playfully nudging his chin with her shoulder. "Good work lieutenant."

"Thank you, " he retorted through a smile of his own, before turning more serious. "Did I snore again?"

Sharon hummed contemplatively. " A little...but I'm getting used to it."

"How diplomatic of you, Captain." Andy turned her in his arms. "I'm sorry," he pouted.

"It's fine," Sharon leant in and dropped a soft kiss to his sulking lips. "Really," she smiled as she pushed the half-full mug of coffee into his hands. "Here, you can finish this – I'm heading in early. I've got a ton of paperwork to do before the rest of the team arrives," she stepped around him and headed for the door. "I really want to get a head-start before the next case comes in."

"Okay," Andy followed her back into the apartment. "I'll see you there." He took a sip of the coffee she had prepared and recoiled with a grimace. "God, that's strong."

"I know," Sharon picked up her purse and a flask full of said coffee from the counter, before turning back to face him. "I'm getting used to your snoring," she kissed him once more, then turned to leave. "I'm just not quite there yet."

"Don't be late," she finished with a playful smirk over her shoulder, before shutting the door behind her .

xXx

"Hold the elevator!" Sharon - skilfully balancing her purse, a flask of coffee and a box of files - rushed across the entrance hall to the LAPD headquarters, in an attempt to beat the closing doors.

Upon boarding however, she wished she'd waited for the next one.

"Ah, just the person!" Assistant Chief Taylor greeted her with his customarily smug smile. "Good morning, Captain Raydor."

'It was...' She internalised, before begrudgingly reciprocating. "Good morning Assistant Chief Taylor; do we have a new case?"

"We certainly do," Taylor said as he rocked back on his heals and clasped his hands in front of him. "I'd like you and Lieutenant Provenza to join me in my office at 8:30 sharp," his gaze drifted up to the floor indicator light above the doors. "You'll have to prep your team for some overtime," he said with a hint of a smile – one that Sharon thought was entirely inappropriate considering her involvement in a case almost always meant that somebody had died.

She had always found Taylor's smile to be unsettling; it often crept across his face in situations that would inconvenience her team – or place them in less desirable situations. It wasn't a secret that there was 'no love lost' between the now -Assistant Chief- and his former comrades - but he seemed to derive some pleasure from their suffering...Sharon deduced however, that if the boot was on the other foot, Provenza would most likely draw just as much enjoyment.

"Of course," she shifted the box of files to rest on her hip, as the elevator ground to a halt and the doors opened. The Assistant Chief always made claiming overtime especially difficult; the fact that he was willing to just give it away before they had even started the case, caused a knot to form in Sharon's stomach. "Are you expecting his case to be particularly trying, Chief?"

"Oh, it's going to be an interesting case, Captain," Taylor exited the elevator and turned back to face Sharon, his smile still firmly in place. "One that will involve a little more input than usual..." the doors began to close. "...Especially from you."

As the elevator began to move once more, the knot in the Sharon's stomach tightened.

xXx

"Pleasurewood Pines," Chief Taylor pushed a file across the boardroom table to where Sharon and Provenza sat. "An independent living community, built two years ago just outside of Brentwood Heights."

"Housing for the elderly?" Sharon thought aloud as she fingered through the prospectus; it's pages littered with photographs of smiling, silver haired models. Some played golf, whilst others enjoyed what looked like spirited conversations with nursing staff.

"Housing for the 55's and over, Captain," Taylor corrected her and she and Provenza shared a glance. "It was penned as of utopia - of sorts - for the retired elite; each villa has it's own pool – there's a golf course, tennis courts..."

"Oh, how the other half die," Provenza grumped as he pushed the prospectus back towards the Assistant Chief – the Lieutenant's expression deftly communicating his dislike for such places.

"The community also offers end of life care; the villa's can be adapted as the occupant ages and mobility becomes more of an issue..."

"Why does it feel like you're directing this sales pitch at me?" Provenza raised his eyebrow and Sharon stifled as smile before interjecting.

"I've looked at places like this for my parents," She pointed casually towards the brochure. " They offer their clients the piece of mind...if the worst were to happen."

"And it inevitably does," Taylor continued, "As you can imagine, death is sadly part of life at Pleasurewood."

"Do they put that in the brochure?" Provenza picked up the prospectus, before dropping it back on the table. "So," he leant back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest; he was clearly irritable, Sharon thought, about being dragged into a meeting before his morning coffee. "What's the case?"

"I was getting to that, Lieutenant." Taylor responded snappily; Provenza's attitude was wearing the Assistant Chief's patience thin. "It has been apparent that a recent spate of deaths at Pleasurewood have occurred under suspicious circumstances..."

"Murder," Sharon surmised. "How many is a spate?"

"Four." Taylor answered - matter of fact.

"Four?" Sharon questioned him, surprise evident in her tone.

"That we know of."

"That we know of?" Sharon's eyebrows retreated to her hairline. Chief, how did we get to a headcount of 4 people without the proper authorities being notified?"

"Incompetence?" Provenza offered.

"That's where it gets complicated..." Taylor placed 4 photographs on the table, "Elsie Jones, Clara Goldstein and John Campbell all passed within away in the past couple of months, all from apparent natural causes." He held up the final photograph, it was of an elderly gentleman wearing military regalia. "World War 2 veteran Geoffrey Roberts passed away three days ago, and the coroner found something suspicious in the toxicology report..."

"Suspicious, how?" Sharon pressed him.

"A large amount of Aloe-Vera was found in his bloodstream."

Sharon frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Aloe-Vera? But that's a health supplement!" Provenza spluttered as he sat forward in his chair, suddenly taking an interest. "I take it every morning!"

Sharon shifted her frown to be directed at her Lieutenant, although his answer made her wish she hadn't.

"What?" He responded with a casual shrug. "It keeps me regular..."

"Thank you for that useful – yet repugnant – revelation, Lieutenant." Taylor's expression portrayed his disgust. "I am told that Aloe-Vera can actually be quite toxic. When it is taken with certain heart medications, it can actually increase heart rate, cause arrhythmia..."

"Let me guess," Provenza said. " Our four victims were taking that certain heart medication?"

"Only one actually," Taylor responded flatly. "Geoffrey Roberts was taking Digoxin; a drug used to treat patients with congestive heart failure."

"And the other three victims?" Sharon asked.

"Pick your poison," Taylor reached across the table and pointed at the photographs in turn as he spoke. "Insulin, morphine and diamorphine."

"Why wasn't this picked up with any of the first 3 victims?" Sharon asked. "Surely there were tox screens run..."

"Incompetence," Provenza offered again – and Taylor nodded glumly in agreement.

Sharon touched the edge of the photograph of Geoffrey Roberts, a thoughtful frown creasing her brow. "Are we thinking this is an Angel of Mercy, a carer who thinks that they are helping the victims move on somehow?"

"It's a possibility," Taylor agreed. "We have 4 victims, men and women of different races and religions...all they really seem to have in common is that they are residents at Pleasurewood."

"And they're rich," Provenza added."Where there's money...yada-yada-yada." He shrugged, before resting back in his chair again, his expression remorseful.

"Four victims is certainly quite the head count to reach in just a few months..." Sharon contemplated the motive. "Whoever it is, they're confident – cocky even."

"And cocky means mistakes," Taylor tapped his finger on the table to emphasise his point. "We need to be there to catch them when they screw up...and that's where you come in."

"Absolutely Chief," Sharon nodded firmly and got to her feet. "We'll start right away."

"Pleasurewood obviously want this case handled as quickly and as quietly as possible, Captain."

"Of course Chief," Sharon placed her hands firmly on her hips. "We will tread as lightly as possible – but we are investigating 4 murders; we will expect the full cooperation of the Pleasurewood team."

"Understandably they don't wish to alarm their residents; a herd of LAPD officers turning up and asking questions could be distressing..."

"Okay then," Sharon lowered herself back to perch on her chair; she knew better than to fight Chief Taylor when it came to Public Relations and the LAPD. Rather than bang heads with her superior – she had learnt over the past few years that it was much better to let him think that her proposal, was really his idea. "What do you suggest, Chief?"

"Well, Captain," Taylor reached for a file to his left and placed it in front of him. "We believe that the best course of action to identify the murderer - without causing too much upset – is to...infiltrate their society."

"Undercover..." Sharon nodded, then narrowed her eyes as soon as she saw Taylor's trademark smile creeping across his face. "What? You mean..."

"Now, wait a minute..." Provenza's protest proved futile.

"You move in later today," Taylor opened the file and pushed it across the table. "Mr and Mrs Moreau."

TBC

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