This story is not going to be too terribly long. Probably only about 5 chapters. I promise, there will be lots and lots of Mothership feels even though Rusty isn't in this chapter. I've never written procedural type stories before, so bare with me, and let me know if something doesn't make sense. Thank you!

This story takes place right after season two before Rusty turns 18.

Chapter 1: Memories

Wednesday Morning

Sharon hadn't needed directions or even an address to find the latest murder scene she had been summoned to. Having lived in Los Angles most of her life, she was intimately familiar with the city. Probably more intimate with it then she was with her own husband. Checking her makeup one last time before stepping out of the car, she inwardly pushed that thought aside. Now was not the time or the place to think about Jack.

Closing the car door, she paused for the briefest of seconds looking at the outside of the dance school. Emily had come to this school years ago. It had been owned by someone else then and had been a ballet school instead of dance. The walls had been painted a horrible shade of pink then that she was happy to see had been replaced with a soft green. The same etching of a ballerina still covered the front window, and Sharon wondered it was the cost to replace it or appreciation of the art that caused the new owners to leave it there. Sharon's mind, without her consent, brought forth images of her young daughter waiting in front of the window, trying to peer in, eagerly anticipating her instructor coming to unlock the door.

She'd have to call Emily later.

With a carefully composed face and purposeful movements, she made her way to the door, ducking under the crime scene tape. While she put on gloves and protective shoe coverings, she gave her information to the officer at the door to be entered into the log. Only once proper procedure had been followed did she step inside.

"Ah, Captain!" Provenza greeted her, glancing down at her feet. "You might want to grab another pair of foot covers. It's a bit of a mess in there."

Sharon raised an eyebrow, but nodded her consent taking another pair of foot covers of the officer at the door. "Thank you, Lieutenant."

Provenza bowed his head at her thanks.

"May I ask what makes this case a Major Crime, and why it was necessary for me to come out here?"

"You can ask, but…" Provenza paused glancing past the front desk and down the hallway. He shook his head. "I think, the answer will become very clear to you once you see the body."

That did not bode well. "I see. Fill me in."

"At 7 am this morning the owner of Dynamic Dance came in to turn on the air conditioning and get everything set up for the first class of the day, which was supposed to start at 9 am. She noticed the smell when she walked through the door and went to investigate. Shortly thereafter she discovered our victim, a dance teacher here by the name of Susan Caine, in the main dance studio, and immediately went outside to call the police. Sanchez already took her statement, and she's waiting outside with him if you'd like to talk to her, Captain, but I doubt she had anything to do with this."

They'd started walking down the hallway as Provenza filled her in, and now he stepped aside to allow her through the door of the studio.

Provenza was right. She was immediately able to see why this was a Major Crime. There was blood everywhere and lying in the middle of it was a completely naked young woman who had been cut open from just below her chest to just above her pubic area. Around the young woman, in her blood, which had pooled around her, were footprints. Hundreds of them. All had the same tread, and Sharon would have bet her pension that they belonged to the murderer.

Kendall was in the process of examining the victim as she and Provenza approached.

"What can you tell us? " Provenza asked immediately.

"I'd say she's been dead since sometime late last night. You'll have to wait for Morales to give you a more precise time. She's pretty beat up, so I can't say for certain if she died from loss of blood or something else. And," Kendall continued as he moved closer to the body turning her just slightly, so the detectives could see her back. "This was carved into her at some point."

Sharon Raydor had been to a lot of crime scenes in her career. And while this definitely ranked in the top 50 worst ones she'd ever seen, it was not the worst. Yet, as she looked at the words "Dance Whore" carved carefully into the dead girl's back, she felt her heart stop for a second, and her stomach rolled for the first time since she was a rookie on patrol. She just barely suppressed the shiver that tried to run down her spine the cause of which she'd have to examine later over a glass of wine.

"Did Buzz document that already?" she asked, grateful for an excuse to take her eyes off the young girl.

"Yep," Kendall replied, placing the body back down on the floor gently. "I'm just about done here, and should be out of your way in about 10 minutes."

"Thank you." Sharon turned away from the body and made her way towards Buzz who was filming the walls next to Flynn.

"Good morning," she said in way of greeting. She found it both sad and funny that police officers maintained the same social niceties while standing in the middle of a vicious crime scene as they did when gathered around a coffee pot. It was a necessary survival technique, she knew, and it brought a sense of order and mundane to the chaotic and messy.

"Good morning, Captain," Buzz replied never taking his eyes off his camera.

"Captain," Flynn smiled, and nodded his head in greeting. "We've been trying to figure out what this is about since we got here." Flynn gestured to the words scribbled haphazardly all over the walls and mirrors of the room in what she assumed was the victim's blood. "There's been a consensus that the words ring familiar to everyone, but no one seems to know what from. The order they're in doesn't seem to make any sense. Most likely it only means something to the whack job who did this, but it seems like a good idea to try and track down their origin anyway." Flynn shrugged. "Maybe we'll get lucky."

Before she could say "thank you," Mike was at her side.

"Morning, Captain," Tao began and didn't give her a change to return the greeting. "We found the murder weapon, assuming the murder weapon is a knife and she wasn't killed by a blow to the head or something like that. At the very least, we found the weapon used to slice her open, and it's covered with prints. We've also found prints and traces of hair in the artwork he left all over the walls for us in the blood he used. The blood, as I'm sure you've guessed, is most likely our victim's, but we'll have to wait for DNA results to be absolutely sure."

"Thank you." Sharon bowed her head in thanks to both Tao and Flynn before stepping away from them and standing more towards the middle of the room.

Flynn was right. There was something familiar about these fairly common words painted randomly onto the walls. She turned in a slow circle following the words with her eyes. They weren't just common words. There were names as well. Familiar names.

She continued turning in circles and reading the words trying to pull from her memory their collective meaning. Remember. Rock. Change. Century. Radio. Jerry. Go. Lying. Energy. High. Bed. Lennon. Covers. Moulty. End. Roll. Need. You. Pulled.

She studied the footprints again, walking their path without disturbing them. The she walked them again. And again.

Remember.

"Captain," Lieutenant Provenza's voice drew her from a long forgotten memory. "I'm getting dizzy just watching you. Is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?"

Sharon's hands found their way into her pockets and she straightened as she noticed all her detectives watching her curiously. "I know what the words mean."

So...how's the hiatus treating y'all? There are free internet brownies to anyone who guesses what the words written on the wall are from! Let me know your thoughts!