Spoiler Warning: References to "Mana'o".
Steve wandered in without warning and found a place to perch on the edge of the desk like he'd done many times before. Danny didn't look up. He sat uncharacteristically still, regarding a framed picture he held in his hands. It was a picture of his ex-wife holding their daughter in her arms. They looked happy.
The expression on the detective's face was a mix of many emotions. Among them, Steve was sure he saw both regret and sorrow. Given recent events, it didn't come as much of a surprise.
"You okay?"
His gaze lifted but sank again a moment later. "Yeah," he replied in a noncommittal tone.
"You thinking about Grace?"
The smile that rose to his lips and vanished in an instant held very little humor. "No. Actually, I was thinking of Rachel."
Danny looked at the picture for a final minute and then placed it back on his desk in its usual location. "Amy called. She said the funeral is scheduled for tomorrow. Two o'clock. There's a reception afterward. We're all invited."
Steve nodded in acknowledgement. The gesture however went unobserved. Danny's eyes were now on the picture of the Brooklyn Bridge that hung on his wall. When he finally spoke again, his voice was subdued. "I wonder how many nights she spent waiting up for me. Thinking the worst."
His partner listened in silence.
"It's not fair to them. Never knowing when the call might come. Knowing there's a pretty good chance it won't be 'if' but 'when'. Knowing they'll have to bury you if something goes wrong."
There was a pause as he mulled it over. "How can they live that way?"
The answer was tragic but true. Not all of them could.