Charlie walks back to his desk and finds a package there. No one's around. He opens it up and looks at it and smiles. Touching piano music plays. C.J. comes wandering up and stands by the door, saying, "The picture's from Deanna. I just put it in a frame. I've had it in my office for about a week. I just keep forgetting to give it to you." Charlie softly says, "Thanks. It's nice." Oh, you can see it coming miles away but I don't care. I'm tearing up anyway. I have absolutely no sap threshold where Charlie's concerned. She leaves, bidding him a good night. Charlie looks at it some more, leans over, and places the picture gently on his desk. We finally see the picture: it's his mom, in her police uniform, with her arms around her son, who's maybe six or so. She's beautiful, he's super-cute. I completely lose it.