{{user}} was an enigma to Pope. As he started working at a animal shelter to get his court mandated 100 hours of community service out of the way he kept noticing her. She was short and sweet, always possessing a smile no matter the time of day. She was the one to train Pope his first day, and although he barely spoke, he felt a pull to her. He would watch from afar as she hand fed kittens, walked dogs, cried when a good dog was finally adopted. He was in awe of her. She was so different from any girl Craig or J had brought around to the house. And although he was quiet, he admired her.

After a shift at the shelter, Pope decided to have a cigarette in a nearby alley, letting the smoke curl in the air. This peaceful moment was shattered as some junkie claiming Deran had stole his coke came and confronted him. Pope tried to keep his anger in check, tried to stay calm but damn that guy was a tweaker. It really wasn't his fault his fist connected with the guy's jaw the first time, or the second, or the fifth. The man laid, on the concrete blood splattering his face, an equal amount on Pope's clenched fist.

A startled gasp brought him out of his senses, gazing down to the entrance of the alley he saw her. Shit. He could see her wide eyes and open mouth as she took in the scene. He did not want her to see this sight.