A/N: School's out, so it must be time to write. This has been kicking around in my brain for a while, time to put it to metaphoric paper. As always, these fine characters do not belong to me, though I would not say no if they were left to me in someone's will, LOL. I only borrow them to amuse myself and hopefully you. No one is getting rich and famous here. Enjoy.

He sat looking around the office he had occupied for the better part of 40 years. Most of his things had been packed up by his teaching assistants, but he had yet to tackle his desk and the credenza directly behind it. His minions, as he jokingly called them after seeing a movie with his youngest granddaughter, knew better than to touch the holy of holies of his office.

When he made the decision to retire at the end of the current school year, Steve figured he would have plenty of time to sort through the detritus of his academic career. Yet here he was, still so much to do with only a week left in the semester. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. There was no avoiding it now.

More than two generations of Berkeley students had passed through his classroom during his years in academia. Although still fit and vigorous at 72, it was truly a wake-up call when a student shared the fact that Dr. Keller had taught his grandmother as an undergrad. It was as if fate had shown him the door. Where had all the time gone?

Criminology had changed dramatically in the years since he left the streets. DNA, CCTV, CODIS, AFIS and a litany of alphabet soup applications continued to make law enforcement more science than art. Hell, he could find out more information in five minutes on Google than he could in a lifetime of old school investigation. He tried to keep up with all the newest technology, but he had to admit, it was getting harder every day. Funny, when he first joined the force he was the hot shot college boy, the best and the brightest of the new breed of cop, but now he felt like his view of police work was closer to Dragnet than CSI.

He picked up a black and white photo in a silver frame. They were all gone now. Sekulovitch was first, but over the years one by one they all slipped away. Tanner, Lessing, Healey, Devitt, Olsen. Haseejian was the last. Steve had thought Norm would live forever as the dirty old man of Leisure World*, but even the sturdy Armenian had succumbed to the march of time almost a year ago. Steve slipped the frame in the box and continued on to the next photo.

He gazed lovingly at his favorite picture of him and his onetime partner with the Golden Gate in the background. It had been almost 7 years since Mike died peacefully in his sleep at the ripe old age of 97. Steve's friendship with Mike Stone had turned out to be the most enduring relationships of his life. Certainly longer than his marriage, which ended in divorce over 30 years ago. Not one day had gone by since Mike's passing when Steve didn't miss his best friend. He gently swept his fingers across the glass protecting the image before placing it into the box. Could it really have been 46 years ago when they first met?

The insistent buzz of his cell phone pulled him back to the present. He laughed as he thought about how much time he had wasted looking for pay phones back in the day before he answered.

"Keller."

"Hey, Steve, I'm glad I caught you."

It had been a long time since he had heard that voice.

"Hey stranger, this is a surprise. How are you?"

"Good, really good. How about you?"

"Can't complain, just trying to get my office cleaned out."

"So you finally pulled the plug, huh?"

"Yeah, thought it was about time. So how are you and Jim enjoying retirement?"

"Busier than ever with volunteering, the grandkids and travel. Had I known retirement was going to be this much fun, I would have done it years ago."

"That's great, so what's up?"

"Do I need an excuse to talk to an old friend?"

"Of course not, but it's been a while." Since Mike's death, they had barely been in contact, save the annual Christmas letter and a few odd phone calls.

The line was silent for a few beats before Jeannie Stone Parker continued.

"As it turns out, I'm in town. Finally decided to sell the old place. We've been renting it out since dad passed, but with the way real estate has taken off in this town, we are looking at a pretty good payday, even as old as the place is.** And honestly, I never liked being a landlord."

At the mention of the house, Steve was instantly transported to the kitchen table at DeHaro Street. Though he was sure the old furniture was gone, he would never think of it other than as it looked in the early 1970's. He fondly remembered the endless cups of coffee from the old Pyrex percolator while Jeannie tried to get his attention on the other end of the line.

"Earth to Steve, you still with me babe?"

"Sorry, just nostalgia catching up with me. Sad day when a Stone doesn't own 768 anymore."

"I know what you mean. Funny how attached we get to places, isn't it."

"Yeah, it sure is. Hey you and Jim want to grab a bite later?"

"Love to, but I'm flying solo this trip. Jim stayed in Phoenix."

Steve smiled. As much as he liked Jeannie husband of 31 years, it would be nice to have her to himself for one night.

"Where are you staying? I can pick you up around seven."

"Do me a favor, swing by the house, there is something I want to show you."

"Casa Stone, it is. At least I'll get a chance to say goodbye to the old place."

00000

Jeannie looked around the now denuded living room. When she had put the house up for rent 6 years ago, she had sold, trashed or packed and shipped most of the contents. With the tenants having moved out a little over three weeks ago, nothing was left, save a wall mirror, a few empty cardboard boxes and two folding chairs. Despite the emptiness, this was still "home." It didn't seem to matter that she had not lived there full time in over 30 years. The house you grew up in would always be home. Her eyes misted.

The low grumble of a car out on the street caught her attention. She looked out the window to see a slim, silver haired man exit a sleek black Lexus. Steve and his cars, she thought. Didn't matter how old he got, he always had a cool ride.

She watched him jog up the steps, much like the old days. The new knees seemed to be working just fine. Wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, Jeannie glanced at the older woman staring back from the mirror and sighed. It didn't seem fair, he looked handsome and distinguished with his full head of wavy hair and neatly trimmed goatee. She just looked like someone's grandmother; hot grandmother yes she smirked, but a grandmother nonetheless.

The door opened before he even had a chance to knock. Jeannie stood and drank in the sight of one of her oldest friends.

"Steve, you look great as always."

She gathered him into a comfortable hug. They had known each other for what seemed like forever. Jeannie had been in high school when they first met. Now over forty years later, his eyes still held the same sparkle. She'd always had a crush on him, from the first time Mike brought him home. But ultimately they wound up as old, comfortable friends.

"You look terrific babe, younger than ever." Steve complimented as he released her embrace.

"You are a liar and a flirt, Steve Keller. You never change. But at my age, I'll take it."

He gave her a crooked grin. "Seriously Jeannie, you look great. How's Jim?"

"Super. He's playing in a golf tournament in Scottsdale. Gave me an excuse to come home."

Steve looked around the empty room. This house held the memories, good and bad, of more than half his life. Towards the end, he'd practically lived here full time, particularly when Jeannie couldn't leave her family. She'd wanted Mike to come and spend his final years with her in Arizona, but true to Mike's stubborn nature, he could never leave his beloved city by the bay. This was the first time he'd been in the house since the week after the funeral. God, how he missed Mike.

"It's a little overwhelming, isn't it?" Jeannie whispered.

"Yeah," Steve responded in an equally quiet tone. Not knowing how long he could stand being in the old house, he got right to the point. "So, what did you want me to see?"

Jeannie walked over to the stairs and picked up a dusty, brown banker's box. "I found this in the attic." She took one look at his startled face and quickly added, "And don't you dare say I'm too old to be climbing up to the attic. I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything. This was tucked under one of the rafters."

Steve brushed off some of the dust and opened the box. Inside were several file folders filled with what looked like copies of case and evidence reports, there was also a yellow legal tablet with notes clearly in Mike's hand. He flipped open the top file and gasped, "Well I'll be damned. He never gave up on this."

Jeannie was now even more curious. "What is it?"

Steve put the lid back on the box. "Come on and lock up, let's get out of here and I'll tell you all about it."

*Leisure World is a California-based "active" retirement community that opened in 1960 and is still around today.

** The 1220 square ft. (113.3 square meters) house at 768 DeHaro Street sold for $953,000.00 US dollars in 2015. It is currently valued at $1.2 million US. It was built in 1908. Real estate prices in San Francisco are nuts!