By the time Steve arrived at the bullpen the next morning, the map from Winston Seavers' apartment was propped up against the blackboard Mike had drug into his office, his desk a frenzied mess of newspaper articles put into some sort of order only the Lieutenant could understand.
Taking a moment to strip out of his overcoat, Steve let his eyes drift over his inbox, grateful to find it empty, then rolled up the sleeves of his royal blue dress shirt, before joining his partner.
"Do you ever sleep?"
Acknowledging his question with an indiscernible grunt, Mike was leaning over their latest leads, his thumb resting over his lips in deep contemplation, eyes going back and forth between the handfuls of articles.
The checkered tie below his red vest was askew, as if the Lieutenant had been fidgeting with it at one point, then forgot all about straightening it back out.
"Get me some coffee, would you? Please?"
When he finally stood back up again, Steve could see his partner's red-rimmed eyes, definite signs of way too many hours spent looking at evidence.
Nodding quietly, the young Inspector reached for Mike's empty cup and back-tracked the few steps to the beverage table to refill it, before returning to the office.
"So how long have you been looking at these?", he pried again as he watched his partner take several overdue sips, then cringe at the lack of cream and sugar.
"You'd make a horrible barista…", Mike complained with a headshake as he forced another sip down his throat and pointed at his desk, "And to answer your question, I've been looking at these probably since you got back from your dinner date."
Noting a strange undertone in his partner's voice, Steve raised his eyebrows in unmasked suspicion.
"I thought you had a charcuterie night planned with Jeannie? Salami and ham and cheese and all the fixings?"
"Me too…", Mike answered somberly, then pursed his lips for a moment, hesitant to continue for a few seconds, "We had an argument. She ehm…she brought up Eric again and the way he was handling the pregnancy and…well…apparently, I said something I probably shouldn't have. After a while it seemed easier just to return to work rather than continue arguing."
"Your outspoken self saying something you shouldn't? No way!", Steve teased only to earn himself a warning glare.
"He wasn't dumb enough to bring up abortion, was he?", the young Inspector added when Mike fell quiet, too quiet for his liking.
"No, not that. He'd be in a whole lot of trouble with me by now if he had. No, it was more along the lines of pushing out the marriage again. He told her that he doesn't need a ring to know that he is with somebody and Jean, well…she thinks it's romantic. I happen to think that if you go as far as fathering a child, no matter what the final outcome ended up being, you ought to at least seal that…that bond with something more than promises."
"Oh boy…"
Deciding that the depth of their upcoming conversation would be best served with a truly alert mind, Steve stepped back outside to pour himself some coffee, black, without any additives, so strong and flavorful that it would hopefully provide him with the diplomatic eloquence to sail the churning waters ahead.
When he returned, Mike stared at him with a mixture of impatience, exhaustion and an underlying request for moral support rarely seen these days.
"Well, I mean…Jean is still young and-"
"Don't give me all that young stuff. If she's old enough to become pregnant, she is old enough to get married, even though I don't really like the guy."
"She's still young and trying to find her place in this world was what I was trying to say, before you interrupted me…", Steve shot back, hoping to keep his partner's escalating temper under control, "I am sure this Eric guy has been rubbing it on thick with her when it comes to trying to avoid marriage. It's a new trend, you know. It's less…commitment, for a lack of a better word. I am not saying it's right or wrong, I am just saying that her and Eric aren't the only ones considering that option."
"Care to guess who gets to pick up the broken pieces if she gets pregnant again and he walks his non-committal self right out the door to find the next flower to pollenate?!"
Nearly spitting out his coffee, Steve glanced down, trying to hide his amusement over Mike's choice of words beneath a stern and professional façade that was slowly but surely cracking.
"Well, I mean, the best way to prevent that would be to make sure that they are married before that can happen again. And please don't ask me to volunteer and explain the birds and the bees to them, because I won't. But there are ways to prevent an unwanted pregnancy, you know?"
His gentle approach to a highly sensitive topic caused Mike to nod slowly, then stare into his coffee cup for a few more seconds of silent deliberation.
"Listen, how long have we been partners now?", Steve continued, successfully coaxing his best friend out of his deep brooding when Mike's sullen blue eyes rose up to meet his again, "And in all that time I have learned to appreciate your stubbornness. I know how you get when something bothers you, or when ehm…when there's something going wrong with those you care about. You tend to get a little…intense. And I also know that Jeannie has inherited that same trait, like it or not. So, the more you push, the more she will resist, and vice versa. How about you just calm down a bit, give both of you a day to think about this situation, then sit down and talk things through. Tell her about your worries, I am sure she shares the same ones. She's scared, Mike, for obvious reasons. She's been through a lot this year, so she's going to be a bit edgier than usual. And you've been through a lot this year too so you're a lot more on edge than usual…and thus we have a volatile situation."
A deep warmth returned to Mike's features when Steve finally fell quiet, taking an overdue breath as he awaited whatever reaction would ensue.
Despite his worst fears, his reward would be an amicable smile.
"What in the world did you put in your coffee this morning? You're starting to sound like my grandfather…", the Lieutenant finally said and nudged his elbow, so much sincere gratitude radiating from the simple gesture.
"Like you always say, Michael, you took me on to keep you in line."
The flippant remark combined with a self-satisfied grin earned Steve a playful slap on the cheek, before Mike turned back around, taking a few seconds to shift back to detective mode, completely move on from the conversation at hand to return to their current case.
Like a hunter looking for prey, he circled his desk once more, eyes focused on the articles down below, scanning each headline top to bottom, one hand nervously playing with the middle button on his red vest.
"So, what have we got so far?", Steve tried and joined him by the desk, taking another sip of coffee in silent celebration of mastering the dangerous minefield that was Mike Stone's private life.
Not answering right away, the Lieutenant reached down for a cutout featuring the picture of a blonde, well-to-do woman in her mid-fifties. Its layout was unlike any of the other articles and printed on shiny paper, definitely the tabloid type.
"We have a name. And as of half an hour ago, an address. Grab your coat Buddy Boy, it's time to go hunting. Come on, let's go."