"So, are we ready?" Assistant District Attorney Gerald O'Brien was sitting on the edge of his desk, staring at the occupant of one of his visitors chairs.

San Francisco Police Inspector Steve Keller let out a tired sigh and nodded. "Yeah," he said confidently. They had just gone over his upcoming testimony for what seemed like the umpteenth time.

O'Brien nodded back. "Good. So," he continued, standing to address the other occupants of the room, "Steve will probably take the stand either late morning or early afternoon, whenever Lassiter's finished with Mendez. But I'll need him here at 10 a.m. sharp just in case Lassiter wraps up faster than expected. Okay?"

Sergeants Nick Burke and Luca Ianello nodded. Both men, veterans assigned to the D.A.'s office, knew their jobs thoroughly, and were well aware of the seriousness of their present assignment.

They were also acutely aware of the stare from two blue eyes which bored into them from across the desk. Detective Lieutenant Mike Stone had been sitting silently in O'Brien's chair through the entire meeting.

Ianello squirmed where he was standing and shot a brief, furtive glance in the Lieutenant's direction. Steve saw the look and followed it, unable to suppress a smile at his partner's oh-so-familiar glare. He barely stifled an inappropriate chuckle as he got to his feet.

Mike followed, his eyes traveling from the two sergeants to his partner. "You," he pointed at Steve, "you get some sleep. You two," the accusing finger changed direction, "I want to see you both yawning and bleary-eyed."

O'Brien laughed and Steve snapped a crisp though whimsical salute. Burke and Ianello, still unsure of their status in the eyes of the Lieutenant, answered in unison. "Yes, sir."

"Come on, Papa Bear," said O'Brien, slapping Mike's shoulder as he crossed behind his desk and began packing up his papers and files, "you can drive me home. You three better get back to the hotel."

Steve's very audible sigh underscored his annoyance. He chafed under the necessity of his sequestration in a downtown hotel, but because of the nature of this trial, heightened security was now the norm. He turned back at the door to face his partner. His frustrated gaze met the older man's concerned one.

Steve nodded slightly and smiled. Mike returned the nod but there was no smile. "See you tomorrow," he said quietly as Ianello opened the door and preceded the small group into the hallway.

Mike continued to stare at the door after it was closed and O'Brien could hear his sigh. He glanced up from straightening his desk.

"He'll be okay. Burke and Ianello know what they're doing."

"I know," came the unconvinced reply.

Steve glanced at his watch for the fiftieth time that morning. 11:55.

He was in a small room in the courthouse building with Ianello. They had been waiting for almost two hours since the sergeants had delivered him, on time, to O'Brien's office.

"Doesn't look like I'm gonna get on the stand before lunch," he grumbled, idly flipping the pages of the Time magazine in his hands. His coat was flung over the back of an empty chair and his tie was loosened.

"Yeah, well, the minute you get off the stand for good, my paycheque's gonna suffer, so they can take their sweet time as far as I'm concerned," Ianello chuckled.

He and Burke were making good coin 'babysitting' the inspector 24 hours a day for the past two weeks. The second team, Sergeants Donovan and Carter, had the day off but would be back on duty when the trial adjourned for the day.

"I'll take my time," Steve smiled.

"Yeah right." He knew how anxious Steve was to get all this over with and get back to his job and his life.

There was a discreet knock on the door and Ianello got up to answer it. Steve heard Burke's voice. "Luca, O'Brien wants to see you."

Burke stepped into the room as Ianello exited, and immediately Steve sensed that something was amiss. "What's going on?"

"Hmmm?" Burke seemed to pull his thoughts together. "Oh, nothing. Lassiter's being a pain the ass and taking his time so O'Brien doesn't think you're going to get on the stand today. Everyone's pretty frustrated," he said with a 'that's-all-it-is' kind of shrug.

Steve was unconvinced but decided to keep his doubts to himself.

"O'Brien wants to know what you want for lunch? The usual?"

Steve's entire body sagged, the frustration writ large. Angry eyes met Burke's understanding ones, and he tempered his words with a mirthless chuckle. "Why don't we shake things up a little - how about a Cobb and a coffee for a change?" Steve dropped his gaze to the floor and rubbed his fingers over his eyes. "So if I don't get on the stand today, we gotta wait till Monday at the earliest? Shit"

"Yeah." Burke still seemed distracted.

Steve looked at the older man. "What's going on?" he asked again, a little more forcefully.

"Oh, just everyone getting frustrated with the delays - it's starting to make everybody moody and snappy."

"Yeah, I hear ya."

The day continued to drag and not even the delicious lunch could do anything to lighten the mood. Steve stretched out on the couch and took a nap, a habit he'd picked up from Mike and one he'd come to appreciate.

But by 4 p.m., Ianello replacing Burke, Steve had had enough. "This is getting ridiculous," he growled as he rose and started to pace the room. "Can we at least go back to the hotel? We're obviously not going anywhere today."

Steve caught Ianello's quick glance at the door before he said, apologetically, "They've asked us to stay -"

Steve cut him off. "Luca, what the hell is going on?" His tone brokered no resistance.

"Look, I can't say anything. We've been told -"

The door opened and, as both men turned towards it, a flicker of relief passed over the sergeant's face.

Assistant DA Gerald O'Brien, Chief of Detectives Rudy Olsen and Captain Roy Devitt stepped into the room, Devitt closing the door behind him.

Steve looked surprised. "Chief, Roy…what's…?"

Olsen put up a hand and gestured for Steve to wait. "Sit down," he said gently.

Steve glanced at everyone in the room but couldn't get a reading from the serious faces. "What's going on?" he asked again as he sank slowly into a chair.

Devitt pulled a chair over in front of the young man and sat. He sighed heavily as he leaned forward. "Steve," he said quietly, "we can't find Mike."