Mike was staring at his partner with a proud and knowing smile and he nodded softly. "Good." He sighed heavily and glanced down at his daughter. "You know what I'd like right now," he said to neither of them in particular running his left hand over the two-week-old stubble on his chin, and the others shrugged. "I'd like to get out of here and go somewhere and take a long hot shower, then have a nice big lunch… and then we'll think about when we want to sit down with Hogan and hear what his explanation for all this is." He looked down at Jeannie again, raising his eyebrows and giving her a quick squeeze. "What do you think?"

She smiled. "I think that's a great idea."

Steve laughed softly. "So do I. Listen, ah, I still have a motel room, with a shower. And I know the perfect place for lunch." He turned towards the door. "I'll tell Hogan." There was a touch of glee in his tone that was unmistakable; he obviously enjoyed having the shoe on the other foot for a change.

Mike tightened his arm around his daughter, laying the back of his head against the pillow again. She leaned against his shoulder, her arm loosely across his chest.

"Helluva fishing trip, hunh?" he whispered with a sad sigh, and he felt her nod.

# # # # #

Steve opened the door and started to lead the way across the bullpen. Mike, his arm lovingly around his daughter's shoulders, followed slowly, staring straight ahead, determined not to show any discomfort. Peripherally, he could see Hogan standing at his office door, watching silently, as they made their way towards the gate in the counter. The room was silent.

As they approached the counter, he noticed a young man sitting at a desk near the front and saw Steve toss a quick nod in his direction as he opened the gate and waited for the others.

The young man didn't nod back but his eyes widened in shock and what seemed like fear when they settled on Mike and Jeannie. Mike stared back as he passed the desk, and a soft, knowing smile briefly crossed his features. And he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was the young man who had shot him, and most likely the person who had killed Johnny Seddon.

# # # # #

Mike looked at himself in the small mirror over the sink. He ran his fingers gently over the wound in his shoulder. It was almost completely healed; only the stitches, which needed to be removed soon, were visible now.

He turned slightly, raising himself up as much as he could to see the left side of his chest. The large dark purple bruise, that had been slowly disappearing, was an angry red once again, the result of Chisholm's death grip no doubt. He pressed his fingers against his ribs, flinching.

Keeping his left arm close to his side, he turned the shower on and got in. It felt good to feel the warm water cascading over his battered body, and he stood perfectly still with his eyes closed, enjoying the sensation.

It had been a long time since he had felt so vulnerable, and he didn't like it one bit.

# # # # #

Steve was standing in the open motel door, leaning against the frame, staring at the Porsche. Jeannie joined him. "So have you decided what you want to do?" She gestured at the car with her chin.

He snorted dryly. "Well, no, not really… I definitely don't want to get it towed anywhere. But I'm beginning to think that maybe… just maybe… Hogan's responsible for this too." He looked at her and smiled. "And I have a feeling that he knows someone here in town that can fix it too."

She chuckled. "I bet you're right." She paused, listening. "I just heard the shower go off."

Steve took a step back from the door. "I'll give him a minute to towel off," he chuckled as he moved deeper into the room.

# # # # #

They were sitting in the booth in the back, perusing the menus that had been preset on the table. The diner was busier than Steve had seen it before; the lunch-hour 'rush' was obviously still on. The waitress approached the table, greeting Mike and Jeannie, who she saw first, with a wide smile.

"Have you decided what you want?" she asked, her eyes sliding to the third person at the table. She froze.

Steve grinned. "Hi, Doris."

Flustered, she smiled back. "Um, Mr. O'Brien, I, ah, I wasn't expecting to see you here…"

The young man smiled reassuringly. "It's not O'Brien, Doris. My real name is Keller, Steve Keller, and I'm a cop from San Francisco." When she frowned in confusion, he pointed across the table. Doris looked at Mike and Jeannie. "And these are my, uh, my 'clients'. Mike is actually my partner."

The older man smiled warmly and extended his right hand. When she took it hesitantly, his smile got even wider. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Doris. I, ah, I hear you're responsible for our release."

"Oh, I don't think so…" she began tentatively, shaking her head and mumbling at the same time as the Mike pumped her hand gently. Her eyes fell on the bandages she could see under his shirt and her frown got deeper.

"And this is his daughter Jeannie," Steve continued the introductions, and the beautiful young woman, grinning, reached across her father to shake the waitress's hand as well.

"Thank you so much," Jeannie said, "you have no idea."

Doris seemed to finally find her voice and her own smile turned sadly understanding. "Unfortunately, I do, honey, I do." When all three sitting at the table frowned, she straightened up, a professional smile brightening her face, back in waitress mode. "So, have you made up your minds?"

Mike stared at her sympathetically for a quick beat then raised his eyebrows and grinned. "Ah, what would you recommend for someone who really needs something that'll stick to his ribs?"

Doris looked at him gratefully, knowing he understood her discomfort at the situation, and she reached out to point at something on the menu in his hand. "Well, a lot of people don't believe me, but I think we make the best meat loaf in the state."

Mike looked up at her and chuckled. "Well, that sounds perfect." He dropped the menu on the table with a flourish. "Meat loaf for me, please."

Doris looked expectantly at the younger two. With an expectant look at Jeannie, Steve pushed his own menu away, smiling. "Then make that two."

"Three," Jeannie added with a laugh and, beaming, Doris picked up the discarded menus.

"Good choice. And something to drink?"

# # # # #

Leaving Doris a very large tip, and thanking her discreetly once more, they left the diner to return to the nearby motel. Father and daughter were walking slowly, arm in arm, both just grateful to be outside in the fresh air.

Leading the way as they turned the corner from the sidewalk into the motel parking lot, Steve pulled up abruptly. The waiting cop car was still in front of the motel office, but the large and imposing tow truck from Gary's Garage was now parked behind the Porsche. "Hey!" Steve yelled, sprinting towards his car.

A tall, thin man got to his feet on the other side of the Porsche, wiping the grit from his hands on his coveralls as he looked in the direction of the agitated shout. Breaking into a smile, he raised both hands in mock surrender.

"What are you doing?" Steve demanded, his worried eyes raking over his car.

"Hey, man, this is some sweet ride you got here," the stranger said with a chuckle, looking down at the sports car admiringly.

"Thank you but what are you doing to it?"

The mechanic's laugh got a little louder and he reached over the trunk, extending right hand. "I'm, ah, I'm Dennis."

Steve had reached for the proffered hand then froze. "Dennis? Wait, aren't you supposed to be in Hawaii with your wife?"

Dennis continued to chuckle. "Yeah, well, we don't go to the islands till next month." He shook Steve's hand quickly then nodded down at the car. "She'll, ah, she'll be running smooth as silk now, don't worry."

Steve frowned. "You fixed it?"

Dennis grinned. "There was nothing to fix. I'd just disconnected a couple of wires. So I just… connected them again." He shrugged.

His hands on his hips, Steve stared at the car. He could feel Mike and Jeannie standing behind him and glanced over his shoulder.

"Try it," Mike encouraged and Jeannie nodded.

Fishing into his pocket for the keys, Steve circled his prized possession and got in behind the wheel, staring at Dennis as he did so. He closed his eyes as he slid the key into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life.

Sighing loudly to himself, Steve turned it off and got out, turning furiously to the tall mechanic. "Who asked you to do this?" he demanded. "Who told you to f%$k with my car?"

"Easy," he could hear Mike's soft voice from behind as he glared at Dennis, whose eyes were snapping back and forth between the partners, his smile gone. He shifted nervously from foot to foot.

"Ah, it was, ah, it was Chief Hogan…" he said finally, his eyes finally settling on Steve, "he, ah, he's the one that asked me to do it." A smile briefly reappeared. "He knew I could do it without doing any damage to your car." He nodded. "And I didn't."

Steve continued to stare, breathing heavily through his nose, trying to figure out what to do, or say, next. Dennis's eyes slid towards the older man, who nodded subtly towards the tow truck. With a slight nod of his own, the mechanic took a step back. He pointed vaguely towards the truck. "I, ah, I gotta get back to the garage…" he said softly, taking one hesitant step at a time back to the truck cab, keeping his concerned gaze on Steve, who had his hands on his hips, looking down. Finally reaching the already open driver's side door, Dennis jumped in and within seconds the truck was squealing away.

Mike glanced down at his daughter, who looked up at him with raised eyebrows. They both turned to stare at Steve, who still hadn't moved.

"Son of a bitch," the younger man muttered quietly, shaking his head.

"Well," Jeannie offered tentatively, "you did say you thought Hogan had something to do with it." Steve looked at her and she shrugged slightly. "Now you know."

"Yeah," he muttered, "now I know." He sighed heavily. "Look, ah, why don't you two go back to the station in the cruiser, and I'll clear my stuff out of the room and then drive over there myself." He was staring at the car, still peeved.

Jeannie looked up at her father, frowning. "Where are we going to-?" she started to mouth and he cut her off with a quick shake of his head.

"Not now," he mouthed back, slightly shaking his head, "not now…" He looked at his partner and smiled. "That sounds like a great idea. We'll do that."

Still frowning in confusion, Jeannie followed her father to the back door of the cruiser. When they had closed both doors, she turned to him. "So where are we going to stay tonight, 'cause I doubt we're heading for home anytime today, right?"

"I know, I know," Mike concurred, raising both hands slightly in surrender, "we'll figure something out. But I didn't want to poke the bear… did you?"

She stared at him expressionlessly for a beat then burst out laughing. She leaned against him as he chuckled and wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close. Her heart soared; even in the toughest of times, her father could always find a way to make her smile.