Steve's musings as he drives over to Mike and Jeannie's house on the morning of February 14.

Driving the familiar route to your house, I cast a quick glance to the flowers I just picked out at the florist sitting on the passenger's seat. I know it's not much. It's not even a dozen roses. It's really just a token for the holiday, but one that I thought about carefully. I want you to know that I think about you – but I don't want you to know how much.

I recall my high school and college years. Girls loved flowers and candy, and for some, it was the be-all-end-all to be acknowledged on Valentine's Day. Guys don't care so much about the acknowledgement and the romance, of course. Back then, I had one thing on my mind and while I admit a nice bouquet and candy got me further with some of the girls, I only viewed it as a cost of doing business and not the expression of love that a real man would consider.

I was such a cad back then. Even now, I can't help but grin a little. I got into so much trouble. Not just with the girls, but with their fathers and brothers. "You broke my little girl's heart…", I heard one dad say to me after ending a relationship with his very clingy daughter. Who knew? We were just teenagers and I wasn't ready to settle down then. She shouldn't have been either. Not before college and not in Modesto.

Hmm. Maybe once a jerk, always a jerk, but maybe not. In the dozen years since, I'd like to think I've matured some and gained a better sense of priority.

Priority. That's the best thing about maturing - you learn and accept what the priorities are. The job forces it – that's for sure. There's nothing quite so sobering than murder and witnessing the horrible things people do to each other.

And then there's Mike. In more ways than I care to think about, Mike has cooled me down and slapped me upside the head with his priorities and values. How many times did he interrupt a dinner date to drag me back to the office? So many times that I began looking over my shoulder anticipating him coming from behind and sticking his big hand over my wine glass so I wouldn't dare have a drink before going back on duty. It was just like dumping a cold bucket of water over my head.

Yep, cold showers, crazy chicks and Mike. What are the top three ways of knocking old buddy boy off his game? It'd be a good question for Carnac the Magnificent.

But not that it's such a game anymore – at least not always. I still play the field, but it's just to have a little fun. Mike disapproves when he sees the different girls coming out of my apartment. "Back in my day, we'd never…" How many times has he started a lecture on my love life with that nugget? I do think that secretly he's happy that he's not the father of these women because he knows in the end, the relationship will end and someone will get hurt. Come to think of it, perhaps that has been his reason for crashing so many of my dates. Hmm…

Nah, I know he wants me to find some nice girl – someone he has no stake in, I might add - and settle down. But I'm not really interested in anyone. That's probably what he picks up on. Well, I should rephrase that. I'm not interested in anyone else. And that's the problem. It's you, my dear. I've come to realize where my interest is. If anyone could change my evil ways…

You've captured something inside of me that no one else has come close to touching. I don't know what it is, but I think of you all the time. And not in that way. It's different. Its: What would Jeannie think? I wonder if Jeannie would like this? If Jeannie knew... It goes on and on.

I hide it from your father. For the most part, I'm successful. Very successful actually - to the point of being aloof. It all goes back to that word – priority. It's the job. It's what I've set out to do with my life. I truly do believe the tried and true police slogan: to 'protect and serve'. And with that comes the strong urge to protect my fellow police brethren…and my partner.

For the moment, that's just as important to me as the service I perform for the public. I have Mike's back and I want to keep him safe. He's a great man and means a lot to me and I know he means so much to you. If I were to reveal my feelings for you, I know that he and I couldn't work together. There are rules about that kind of thing. Conflict of interest, emotional attachment, nepotism. It's just not allowed.

And if he and I can't work together, who will be there to protect him? No, I'm not egotistical enough to think it can only be me. There are other cops who would do this, but I feel like I have a stake in this. It's like when I was a kid back home. Once a farmer said to me, "Who do you think has a bigger stake in making a good breakfast - a chicken or a pig?" I had no idea what he was talking about, but then he answered, "The pig, of course. He gives his life to make bacon. The chicken only lays an egg."

And that's me – I'd give my life to protect him if I had to. So, ha! - I guess I really am a pig, in more ways than one. You even called me that not so long ago. Jokes aside, I owe it to you both to make sure with every fiber of my being that your dad is taken care of and protected when we're out in the field. You have my promise on that.

Well, I've finally made it to your house. I'll grab my small bouquet – three long stemmed lavender roses with baby's breath wrapped in green tissue paper. Lavender is supposed to mean 'enchantment' and I think that's an accurate description of my feelings. Red would be too obvious anyway. And lavender is special and not all that commonly given – and that seems appropriate, too.

I do hope you accept these flowers and understand that it's given with great intent and a lot of love. I may even sneak a brotherly peck on the cheek. But keep in mind, the greatest gift I can give you – at least right now – is one that you probably won't realize and I will never mention: my commitment to you to do everything in my power to keep the man we both cherish safe.

Happy Valentine's Day, babe.