Steve pushed the courtroom door open as far as it would go; he'd been in that particular room many times before and knew that the door creaked if it was opened all the way. A high-pitched metallic squeal cut through the Assistant District Attorney's address to the judge and almost every eye in the room turned in the direction of the ear-piercing noise; except Donna.
As Steve paused, frowning, Healey and Haseejian slipped in behind him, crossing the back of the room in different directions. Releasing the door to allow it to close, Steve nodded slightly at ADA O'Brien, who had paused his argument when he'd turned towards the sound. O'Brien nodded back.
Donna, who had been staring at the district attorney with an altruistic smile as he had argued for her to remain in custody, turned almost nonchalantly in the direction he was looking, her smile intact. Slowly her soft blue eyes travelled unsuspectingly towards the door.
Steve was staring straight at her. Their eyes met and she froze; he didn't react. Then her smile escalated into a beaming grin and she sat straighter, grabbing the arms of the chair and beginning to stand. Her lawyer, who had followed her gaze, reached out quickly and put a hand on her arm, keeping her seated.
Steve continued to stare expressionlessly. He knew that her reaction alone was enough to puzzle the judge; after all, he had just been told that Steve and his partner had conspired to take her child from her. Why, then, this seemingly enthusiastic and emotional reaction to his appearance, the jurist was certain to contemplate.
Judge Ivers looked from the man at the door to the defendant to the ADA. "Mr. O'Brien, if you could continue please, I do have a full calendar today."
O'Brien looked back at the bench. "Of course, Your Honor, my apologies." He glanced down at his notes, taking a few seconds to decide how he wanted to incorporate this new wrinkle into his argument; he too, of course, had noticed the young woman's reaction to the homicide inspector's unexpected appearance.
Donna was continuing to stare at Steve, the adoration evident in her eyes. To the others in the room, it was almost heartwarming; to Steve, it was terrifying. He knew what she was capable of.
The door behind Steve opened slowly, and Mike Stone limped into the room. He took the few steps to behind his partner, looking over his shoulder and straight at the young woman who had come so close to killing him.
Donna's eyes slid very slowly from Steve's face to Mike's, and he smiled at her. Her smile disappeared as the blood drained from her face. She began to shake as she put her weight on her hands on the arms of the chair and started to push herself to her feet.
Her lawyer felt her move and looked up at her, seeing the fear in her eyes and feeling her muscles tense under his touch. He reached out with both hands to grab her but she was already on her feet. Her stunned look quickly transformed into rage and she opened her mouth.
"No!" half scream, half shout, emerged from deep in her soul, a sound so vicious and unnerving that her lawyer snapped back his chair, taking his hands off her as if she was white-hot. Before anyone could react, she was stepping on the chair, her hands on the back as she tried to vault over the bar into the gallery.
Suddenly Healey and Haseejian were on either side, grabbing her by the arms and pushing her back down. They had unobtrusively worked their way down to the bar on either side of the room, ready for just such a reaction. They held her in place as the court officer sprinted to the defense table; she continued to scream and struggle.
"No! No! You're dead! I killed you!" she bellowed as she writhed around under their grip. Everyone was now on their feet. Her lawyer backed up as the court officer rounded the table, shoving it out of the way and grabbing her. With the detectives help, he pulled her flailing arms behind her back and handcuffed her.
She was roughly turned around and pushed down onto the chair, the court officer standing in front of her. Healey and Haseejian kept their hands on her shoulders to hold her still.
Judge Ivers' loud, authoritative voice cut over the babble that had erupted in the semi-packed courtroom. "Ms. Atkinson, if you don't settle down and shut up I'll have Officer Winslow gag you, do you understand me?!"
Breathing heavily and staring viciously at the uniformed cop in front of her, Donna shut her mouth. After several long silent seconds, Ivers said with a heavy sigh, "I'll take that as a yes." He turned to the ADA as everyone took their seats again, the low murmur of voices continuing. "Mr. O'Brien, in light of… recent events," he said, gesturing towards the defendant and trying to keep the stunned irony out of his voice, "the court agrees with your assessment and Ms. Atkinson is to be held without bail."
O'Brien got to his feet and looked over his shoulder at the two homicide detectives, who were still standing near the door. He smiled slightly and nodded. They both nodded back.
Mike saw Steve lower his head and bring his right hand up to rub his temple. "Are you okay?" he asked worriedly.
Steve stood silently for a moment then said softly, "My head is pounding."
Mike took his elbow and started to pull the younger man back towards the door. "Come on, let's get out into the corridor and we can both sit down." He was attempting to mask his own discomfort as, trying not to limp too noticeably, he guided Steve through the doors held open for them by exiting trial watchers.
There was a bench just to the right of the door and the partners sat; Steve leaned forward, putting his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands. Mike put his hand soothingly on the younger man's back. "Just sit here for a few minutes and I'll get Norm to drive us both home. I want to lie down too," he said with a smile in his voice as he patted Steve's back gently in empathy.
Steve turned his head to look at the older man. "You're not going home alone," he said quietly.
"Well, where else will I go?" Mike asked with a soft chuckle.
"You're not going home alone," Steve repeated. "I want you to come to my place. You've slept on the couch before; you've said it's comfortable, right?"
"It is, you're right, but isn't Ellie staying at your place right now? Your place isn't that big, buddy boy, no offense but…"
Steve sat up a little straighter and turned in the seat to face his partner, trying to mask the discomfort from his throbbing head. "Ellie is going to be in court all day, and at night she's sleeping with me… no offense," he said with an affectionate chuckle. "There's plenty of room for you… and I have a feeling the two of us are going to be doing a lot of sleeping for the next few days. Right?"
Staring at his young friend with raised eyebrows, Mike nodded slowly with a drawn out, "Right." He smiled softly. "If you're sure?"
Steve smiled back and nodded. "Yeah, I'm sure. And, actually, when Norm and I were at your place this morning, I, ah, I picked up enough stuff for you to stay at my place for a week. The bag's in the trunk." He finished with his own raised eyebrows and self-satisfied smirk.
Mike pursed his lips and snorted. "So, ah, so I don't really have a say in this now, do I?"
Steve very carefully shook his head with a small triumphant smile. Mike began to laugh, and slapped the younger man's back fondly as Steve put his face in his hands again. Mike leaned the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes. Even though it was only a few hours old, it had been a long day.
They were still sitting in that position when Healey and Haseejian exited the courtroom.
# # # # #
He felt the big jiggle slightly then a warm hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes, blinking slowly to allow them to focus. He smiled lovingly and reached up to lay a hand gently against her cheek. "You just get home?" he asked softly; his headache had become a dull throb.
Ellie nodded.
"What time is it?"
"Just before nine. I would've been earlier but I had to catch up. And guess what, I now have a para working with me because," she raised her cast, "I can't take notes anymore." She chuckled and he joined her.
"How is it feeling?"
"Fine. If it wasn't for the cast, I wouldn't know anything is wrong. How are you feeling?"
"Bit of a headache," Steve admitted, but that was as far as he was willing to go. He would tell her about his and Mike's unscheduled appearance at the Atkinson hearing some time down the road, when she wasn't apt to yell at him for risking his health.
"Then you stay right where you are." She started to get up then thought better of it and leaned back towards him again. "Oh, ah, I did notice there's a big lump on the couch downstairs… has a blanket over it? And it seems to be snoring a little bit?"
Steve started to chuckle again. "I didn't want him going home alone, not in the condition he's in right now. Are you mad?"
"Mad? Are you kidding? I'm happy he's here, I really am. I was going to tell you to ask him but I forgot when I left this morning." She smiled at him warmly; she was only too aware of the special bond the two men shared. "Have either of you eaten?"
Steve carefully shook his head.
"Neither have I. I know it's a cliché but I don't feel like cooking tonight for some reason," she chuckled, "so you want me to order a pizza?"
"Sure," he smiled, reaching up to put a hand on the back of her neck and pulling her down so he could kiss her.
Grinning at him, she pushed herself up. "I better order that pizza or we won't end up eating till midnight." She started towards the door.
"Hey, listen," he called quietly after her and she stopped. "Listen, ah, could you make a third of that pizza with –"
"Anchovies, I know," she interrupted with a throaty laugh. "The three of us have had pizza together before, remember?"
"Right," he nodded carefully, chuckling. "Oh, ah, did you get a chance to call the hospital today?" he asked gently.
Ellie smiled ruefully. "I did. There's no change, which I guess is a good thing, right?" There was a desperate hopefulness in her voice that tore at his heart.
He nodded again. "Yeah, I think that's a good thing."
# # # # #
"Well, you're looking better this morning," Mike said over his reading glasses from his seat at the kitchen table, the morning paper in his hand.
Unshaven, his hair uncombed, his burgundy dressing gown over his blue-and-white pajamas, Steve shuffled into the kitchen and straight to the percolator. Picking up a mug from the counter, he poured a cup of the strong smelling coffee, diving into the fridge for the milk before he cleared his throat. "I hope so, it's been three days now." He put the milk back in the fridge. "How come you seem to be doing so well?"
Mike grinned, taking the glasses off and dropping them on the table. "Well, maybe because I'm sleeping alone, with no… distractions." The whimsy in his voice was unmistakable; Steve continued to prepare his coffee, avoiding eye contact.
But when he turned to the table, there was a smug, self-satisfied smile on his face and he raised his eyebrows. "I like the distractions."
Mike chuckled. "I know you do… I'm just saying…" He folded the paper and put it on the table. "Listen, ah, I was thinking of going back to my place –"
"Can you walk without limping yet?" the younger man interrupted.
There was a brief hesitation then Mike dropped his eyes. "Well, no, not yet."
"Then you're not going home." Steve put his mug on the table with a heavy, pointed thud then returned to the counter, pulling the toaster closer and taking two slices of bread out of the wrapper.
Mike contemplated arguing then thought better of it. To be honest, he was elated that the decision had been taken away from him; he really didn't want to leave, but he felt he was infringing on the young couples' lives.
But he still picked up the paper and opened it again with a snap. At the counter, Steve smiled to himself. A few seconds later, as he waited for the toast to pop, he turned to the table and leaned back against the counter.
"Mike, ah, there's something I want to tell you…" He glanced down, as if he was nervous and bobbled his head slightly. With uncharacteristic hesitancy, he looked back up at his partner under a lowered brow and cleared his throat. "I, ah, I'm gonna ask Ellie to marry me."
The older man froze then his face broke into a wide grin. Steve started to laugh, relieved, too caught up in the moment to notice the veneer of melancholy that briefly washed over his best friend's face.