The weight of half a dozen storage crates landing on top of him had done nothing to improve Steve's irritable disposition that morning, neither did the blockage Amy had shoved in front of the door to lock him into the dark office.

Ignoring the pressure headache from his freshly stitched headwound for the time being, he'd summoned all his energy to ram the door shoulder first, feeling the obstacle behind it move somewhat, before swinging back in place.

Cursing under his breath, Steve took a couple extra steps back, then once again slamming himself into the door, this time feeling it budge even farther, before whatever sat behind it shifted back into place with a loud and heavy thud.

As he felt himself starting to break out in a sweat, Steve increased his running distance a couple more steps while summoning what was left of his energy. Darting through the darkened office, he rammed the door again at full speed, this time causing the hinges to break off with a high-pitched snap. As a result, the door came loose, sending him and the heavy metal table that had blocked it tumbling forward and onto the slaughterhouse floor.

Steve landed with his back against an assortment of cardboard boxes that cushioned his fall, keeping him at a safe distance from the office door and metal table that had come to a rest just a couple feet away from his position.

Shaking off the dizziness for a moment, the young Inspector got back on his feet, his eyes instinctively searching for his partner.

"Mike?"

No answer could be heard as the building remained painfully still.

"Mike!"

Deciding to head toward the Lieutenant's last known location, Steve noticed a side door that was partially open, illuminating the otherwise dark corridor leading to the back of the building. Retrieving the .38 from his holster, he cautiously followed the narrow hallway until he reached the open.

Much to his horror, he saw Mike's still form on the ground in front of a storage shed, his grey fedora carelessly lying beside him.

"Mike!", he called out for his partner once again as he sprinted the short distance toward him, trying to keep his eyes open for Amy.

"Michael!"

Slightly out of breath, he took a second to check out the inside of the storage shed first, ensuring that nobody was hiding in it, before kneeling down to check on his fallen partner. Mike was lying on his belly, his right hand stretched out and his .38 right beside it, as if he'd tried to defend himself at the last second.

"Mike!", Steve whispered again, before carefully reaching for the side of his partner's neck to feel for a pulse.

From the outside, there seemed to be nothing wrong with the Lieutenant. No blood from a gunshot wound could be seen and the scene surrounding him looked eerily quiet.

When all Steve could feel was his own blood pumping through his veins, he resorted to sliding a hand beneath Mike's dark blue dress coat, right below his sternum. Much to his relief, his shaking fingers detected slow and even breaths.

Sitting back on his heels, Steve ran a nervous hand through his wavy hair, before resting it on his unconscious partner's shoulder, trying to determine what to do next.

It was the movement he saw out of the corner of his eye, that made his decision easier.

Trying to flee undetected, Amy was walking along the backside of the slaughterhouse, her pace cautious but determined as she made her way toward the parking area up front.

Hesitant to leave his partner behind, Steve glanced down at Mike one more time, not seeing signs of the Lieutenant regaining consciousness anytime soon. With a quiet sigh, he rose back to his feet, his right hand clenching the .38 firmly as he followed their murder suspect in a dead run.

Halfway across the yard, Amy had vanished around the corner of the large building, squeezing through the many sections of livestock panels to get to her car. As he slowly caught up, Steve didn't waste any time trying to navigate the maze of metal and wooden planks like she did.

Instead, he jumped across them at a rapid pace, using his strong legs and knees to bounce through the assortment of obstacles like horse during a steeplechase.

By the time he reached the parking area, Amy was still several feet away from her car, nervously digging for the keys in her pants, as she walked along.

"HOLD IT! POLICE!", Steve warned, causing the slightly shorter woman to freeze in her tracks and slowly turn around.

As her expression filled with deep annoyance, the young Inspector approached her cautiously, his aim never leaving her center mass in case she was armed.

"You guys are harder to get rid of than manure flies!"

Although the words almost sounded comical, her voice was dark and calculated, as she took a step toward the young Inspector, but hesitated when he cocked his revolver.

"It's over, Amy."

"And just what do you know about any of this…Kid? About life? And choices?", she replied petulantly and pointed her chin at his clothes, "You're all pretty boy and Ivy League; designer clothes and fancy cowboy boots that have never seen dirt. You wouldn't know a thing about the rural lifestyle if it came to kick you where the sun don't shine."

"Maybe not…but I do know a thing or two about murder. And you are under arrest."

Much to his surprise, Amy chuckled in amusement.

"How'd you get a badge anyways? Win it at a carnival or something, Kid?"

"Put your hands behind your head.", Steve demanded, completely ignoring her insults for the time being. Much to his ire, Amy didn't comply.

"You're just like all the other guys your age…just like Rory. All talk with nothing to back it up. No values, no commitment. All you ever worry about is yourselves. You don't care about what's right or wrong."

"He cares a lot more about it than you ever did."

Mike's stern voice came from the front of the building, where the still dazed Lieutenant slowly made his way through the front door and toward their location. With one hand rubbing the back of his head, he reached for his handcuffs with the other.

Unable to hide a relieved smile at the sight of his partner up and about, Steve continued to hold Amy at gunpoint, while Mike approached and fastened the cuffs, his expression mirroring his own mixed emotions.

"My father will have me out in no time. And make sure that you both lose your badges.", the young woman threatened, wincing as Mike tightened the handcuffs more than necessary to hold their suspect at bay.

Ignoring Amy for the time being, Steve returned his .38 to its holster before approaching his partner, his eyes scanning the Lieutenant intently to ensure that he was alright.

As he was guiding Amy toward the waiting Galaxy, Mike seemed to noticed the extra set of eyes on him and turned around to flash a brief smile at his partner.

Returning the gesture with a cheeky grin, Steve pointed his chin at the back of Mike's head.

"Lieutenant, looks ehm…looks like you got your bell rung a little bit, eh? I better go and take you to the local Doctor to have you checked out. I hear he's pretty good."

Chuckling as he guided Amy into the backseat, before sitting down next to her, Mike waited until Steve slid into the driver's seat, before affectionately squeezing his shoulder.

"You're going to talk or drive, Buddy Boy?"