Thank you so much for the check in's. I can assure you that the rumors of my demise are largely unfounded. It speaks volumes about the caring group of people frequenting this site. Time to get back to posting some chapters.
"You know…I am not homeless. I could have driven back to Berkeley and slept in my own bed."
At close to midnight, Mike intentionally kept up the incessant fretting, hoping he could give Steve a taste of his own medicine after what the day had done to his weary nerves. And the fear he'd always held inside about something catastrophic happening to his best friend without him being able to do anything about it.
"Oh no. No, no, no. You are still dragging and have been since you went down. That must have taken a lot out of you. I am not comfortable having you drive after a long day like today. You can grab the guest bed."
Wisely so, Steve had left a change of clothes in his Porsche, allowing him to trade the dirty and sweat stained suit for a warm shower and a cozy black turtleneck pullover and blue jeans. And now that he was sitting on the couch, a freshly opened bottle of beer in his hand, there was no doubt in Mike's mind that for a few precious moments, they were reliving history again.
A cherished past he missed so dearly these days.
"So where'd you put your award?"
As he reached for a handful of potato chips in the yellow bowl on the dining room table ahead, Mike slid into his recliner and took a sip of beer.
"Award?"
"For putting in thirty years. You mean to tell me they didn't give you an award? Or…hold it…you were too busy to attend your own award ceremony because you had a murder to solve, isn't that right, Lieutenant?"
"Well, I am glad to see you haven't lost all your street smarts in those fancy hallways yet…and to answer your question, it's right up there."
Using the hand holding the potato chips, Mike pointed to the cabinet off in the corner by the kitchen, where a wooden plaque with metal engraving sat behind protective glass.
Following his lead, Steve spent several seconds staring at the newest paperweight in Mike's collection, a sorrowful expression spreading on his face as he did so.
"Thirty years is a long time…I can't imagine doing what you have been doing for this long…"
"It grows on you after a while. Before you know it, you've got ten years in on the force, then twenty, then thirty. And suddenly…everyone around you is a whole lot younger than you are."
They both chuckled at the reminders of their obvious age gap which, ironically enough had been one of their greatest benefactors over the years.
"Have you thought about what you are going to in the next few years? Like you said, you're no spring chicken anymore. Have you given retirement any thoughts?"
Taking another sip of beer, Mike let his eyes drift across the skyline of San Francisco visible through his living room window. Although it laid in the dark now, he knew that parts of this city never slept. And neither did its criminals.
Or the person who swore a long time ago to protect all its citizens.
"Thoughts yes, not much besides that. There's still way too much to do out there."
"There's always going to be something to do out there. But after all these years, don't you think you deserve to retire? Get away from the morose work and do some traveling? See other countries? Spend more time with Jeanie?"
"What has you all worried about me retiring?", Mike shot back, causing Steve to giggle insecurely, "At the rate you are going, you'll be forced to retire long before I do. The stress you're putting yourself under and that…that interesting lifestyle you lead…you can't keep that up forever. I'd hate to tell you, but even you are getting older. A few more years and that big 4-0 is looming…"
"Nah, I am just getting started. I have to take a few more cracks at sending these kids off on the right path in life."
"Well, for what it's worth, I really liked what I saw in the two boys you brought in.", smiling in fatherly pride, the Lieutenant pointed back at his old partner, "I could tell they had a pretty good teacher. Almost made me think you did listen occasionally when I taught you something."
"Mike…", Steve groaned laughingly and shook his head, only to have his friend hold up his hand to stop him.
"No, I mean it, seriously. Their…choice of clothing leaves much to be desired, but they did work hard. They told me about some of the other teachers they've had and how much they like you. What a difference you made for them…I just wish we would have gotten farther today."
"There's always tomorrow. And if Doctor Meyers is correct and they get Dan to wake up in the morning, there's a chance he may be able to point us directly to the killer."
"Mhm…"
Mike fell silent again, the overwhelming worry about his partner's condition weighing heavy on his mind that evening despite the lighthearted atmosphere both he and Steve had expertly created between grabbing a pizza from Tony's and sharing a few laughs here and there over a beer. It seemed that inevitably, no matter how hard they tried, their conversation eventually led back to Dan and a ruthless killer who, for all that Steve's professional opinion was worth, would go after him next.
"I sure hope so. But in the meantime, we need to rely on our own footwork…So the first thing I want to do is go through those files your students scanned one more time, see if there's anything we missed. How far did they get on the gun registration? I've seen Tanner still working on it after we came back from booking this afternoon."
Running a hand through his sandy hair and sighing woefully, Steve shrugged, before nervously pulling on the collar of his turtleneck.
"Far enough to know that there're some 915 32.'s registered in this city that could potentially be our murder weapon, starting with private ownership to security companies and some being used in the police force. But without a suspect and without the gun or knowing what exact model it is, we're not getting very far."
"Damnit.", Mike cursed, an unusual occurrence for him that wasn't lost on his worried friend, "I am getting tired of having to wait for our killer to strike before we get more pieces to this…this bizarre puzzle she has created."
"Michael, we will catch her."
Reiterating the unwavering optimism Mike had grown to appreciate in his best friend over the years, the Lieutenant got up for a second, his beer still in one hand as he approached the living room window once again, as if he secretly hoped to spot their killer amongst any of the thousands of bright lights at his feet.
"I want to believe that as much as you do, but how many more people will have to die before we will catch her, hm?"
Behind him, Steve had fallen silent. Leaning forward and playing with the label of the beer bottle, he pondered for a brief moment, before raising his voice again.
"Hopefully none.", the young Professor finally said and stood up to join him at the large bay window, "Especially not you."
Mike smiled in deep appreciation and reached over to grasp the nape of Steve's neck, shaking him playfully.
Unaware of the dangers lurking ahead, both men stared out of the window and into the vastness that was San Francisco.
Moments later, a bright light and the sound of shattering glass disrupted their peace.
