Steve heard the stern marching of his partner's dress shoes following him down the hallway before he ever made it to the elevator. His active mind was already preparing for the discussion that would undoubtedly ensue, Mike's question, his answer, Mike's counter question, his answer, Mike's argument, his passionate rebuttal, the tense silence and staring contest that would result.
As such, he slowed down somewhat, sighed in unmasked dread and pushed the elevator for the down button, when the Lieutenant's hand reached for his elbow.
"Was the coffee a little strong for you this morning? What's this?"
Pointing his chin at the envelope in Steve's left hand, Mike cocked his head, his alerted senses trying to gauge the situation, be prepared for any sort of emergency or threat long before his partner could ever fill him in, the hyper-vigilant soldier shining through on the edges like he always did in these situations.
"This is the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. This is going straight to Gerry's office for a warrant. Then to Lenny's office. Then downtown where-"
Grasping for his upper arm and squeezing it tightly to rein in the growing irritation feeding on Steve's nerves; Mike reaching for the envelope, before holding it up symbolically.
"I ask again. What is this?"
Taking a moment to glance from his partner to the envelope and back, Steve drew in a deep breath, the move rewarded instantly when Mike's grasp on his arm eased up.
"It's a lead on our first leg. The tattoo. And it looks viable…until you see where it came from."
Frowning, the Lieutenant let go of his partner's arm altogether, then pulled a sheet of paper out of the inconspicuously addressed envelope, holding it farther away from his face to make out the print.
"Thought this might help your investigation, Inspector.", he read out loud, then scanned through some text of the heritage of the tattoo, before reaching the last sentence, "With much regard, Claire Gifford, your biggest fan at the San Francisco Telegraph."