"What is she doing here?"
Mike's stern words cut right through the bullpen, silencing every ongoing conversation and making all his detectives and Sergeants freeze in their respective spots.
Not taking his eyes off the person sitting in the guest chair of his office while Steve awaited him by the coffee machine, Mike inhaled deeply, feeling his heart skip a few beats as he restrained his anger once again, the walls of self-control slowly but surely crumbling after a morning wasted barking up various trees with no positive outcome whatsoever.
Heroically stepping in between the reporter and his best friends' fury, Steve glanced up at him evenly, trying to diffuse the situation as best as possible.
"She's here with some information that might help us.", the young Inspector explained from the safety of the wide beam in the middle of the bullpen.
"Say it ain't so. What is it now? She wants an exclusive interview? See what else she can dig up?"
"I thought the same thing, Michael, but she's got an angle. Trust me."
Stifling another frustrated grunt, Mike followed Steve to his office, then taking off his fedora and black overcoat while stealing a glance at Gifford who had sat down in the guest chair farthest away from his desk, nervously taking in the scene, her hands clasped together tightly.
Like a child who had just been summoned to the principal's office, she avoided eye contact each time Mike glared in her general direction, going as far as studying his carpet intently.
Behind him, Steve closed the door and headed for the water carafe, crowding both of them in one corner while keeping Gifford in the other one.
"So…what is it that brings you here this time?", Mike asked in unmasked hostility, never sitting down.
Instead, he leaned against his window sill, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes sternly fixated on the nuisance reporter that continued to disrupt their investigation.
Well aware of the growing animosity around her person, Gifford shifted off to the side a bit, finally looking up at Steve first, then at the Lieutenant.
"As I…as I explained to Inspector Keller, I have reason to believe that whoever killed this…this Happy Artist guy whose leg you have found…well…this person is after me now."
Sharing a puzzled glance with his partner, Mike frowned.
"And what makes you think that?"
"I noticed him following me since…since yesterday when we went to Sausalito."
"You mean when we went to Sausalito and you followed us."
"Correct.", Gifford mumbled insecurely and clasped her hands even tighter, "It's a dark green sedan. The driver wears a black suit and tie. And sunglasses. Clean shaven. I saw him when I went shopping yesterday. And when I drove home. And then again this morning when I picked up the paper."
Drawing in a deep breath, Mike let his hands slide down to the window sill, holding onto the wood tightly as his mind tried to process the latest curveball thrown in their laps.
"And you're sure it's always the same guy?"
"Yes. Absolutely.", Gifford insisted eagerly, then reached forward to drink a sip of coffee.
"And how do you know that he's trying to kill you and not just following you around town for grins and giggles? He might just be your biggest fan…"
The snide remark caused Gifford to clench her jaws, the hands holding onto her coffee cup making the liquid inside slosh around until it almost spilled.
"Call it a sixth sense, Lieutenant. The type that tells you when mortal peril is imminent."
Pursing his lips, Mike glanced down at his dress shoes, shaking his head at the ridiculous irony of the current situation, before taping his partner's shoulder.
"Mortal peril. How about that, Stephen? I sure wish all our victims would have a sixth sense that tells them when murderers walk around town. We'd be out of a job in no time at all."
Steve opened his mouth to say something, when Mike cut him off.
"Pardon my natural skepticism, Miss Gifford, but you see, if I have learned anything about you in the past few months, it is that you will use everything that we say or do against us, spin it into some fantasy-driven novel and scatter it all across town to the entertainment of your bloodthirsty audience. I have no desire whatsoever to continue being your object of study, as a matter of fact, your shameless intrusion into our privacy is touching the borders of legality and honestly, I can't wait for you to push it just a bit more so that I can throw the book at you."
"Mike…", Steve tried from the sidelines, only to receive a warning glance to remain quiet.
"Not now, Stephen, not now.", Mike growled and lifted his index finger warningly, "You arrogantly claim to be a fan of our work, to do this for some…some grander purpose and give us some recognition we don't want. Yet you follow us around town like some Peeping Tom, taking notes of our method of communication, then weaving it into a story to feed your…your psychosis, your…your creepy idea that you are somehow part of our team here, that you know me and my partner better than we do ourselves. You treat us like fictional characters that you can mold to your liking and use to live out your strange fantasies to-"
"Michael. I really need to-"
"I said not now!", Mike shot back, followed by another warning glare, "After everything you have done to disrupt our professional and private lives in the last few months, do you honestly think we're going to believe you now? That this isn't just a lie you have come up with to contact us? You and I both know that you would lower yourself to such a standard, wouldn't you? Just to get a little closer to your objects of interest once again, get some more ideas for next weeks' rendition of Lieutenant Graham and Inspector Hicks, isn't it? Well, I won't give you that satisfaction. As a matter of fact, if you come to this office one more time to solicit contact with us, I am going to put a team on you day and night, have them follow you around wherever you go, see how you like being the center of somebody's interest for once. See how that constant attention makes you feel like after a while."
"Michael, I really gotta talk to you.", Steve urged once again, keeping his voice calm, yet relaying the importance of a secondary discussion in no uncertain terms.
With a final slow exhale, Mike let his stern glance finish the remainder of the monologue he'd presented to Gifford, words and thoughts that had been on his mind for weeks and finally bubbled to the surface when the reporter pushed one too many of his buttons.
Below his blue tie, his heart was racing frantically, almost hurting his ribs, making his hands shake from aggravation when he should be able to keep his cool.
But truth be told, Gifford's shameless stalking had finally pushed him over the edge of his self-control, her vivid explanation of his relationship with Steve cutting too deep to be ignored, the mocking from the rest of the bullpen becoming a weekly ritual he had grown sick and tired of.
If she'd taken the berating personally, Gifford certainly didn't show it. Having frozen in place, her hands still clenching the coffee cup, eyes in his general direction but lowered in subjugation, she managed all but a faint nod before once again turning into a silent audience for his interaction with Steve.
"What is it?", he barked at the young Inspector, not surprised to see a flash of irritation flood his forcibly neutral features.
"Can we talk?...Outside?"
Simmering his temper back down with a brief nod of the head, he pushed himself away from the windowsill and followed Steve to the Telex machine in the main office, making sure to close the door behind them.
"What was all that fussing about? I hope you're not going to try to tell me that she's a credible lead. You do realize who we're talking about here. She's trying to play us."
Waiting patiently until Mike had finished the last of his ranting, Steve nodded, his eyes absent-mindedly drifting over to his desk, where a single manila file awaited its owner.
"No, trust me, I was thinking the exact same thing.", the young Inspector explained evenly and shrugged, "That was until she told me about the car. You see, the team I put on Willis' mansion last night, they saw a vehicle matching Gifford's description pick up our actress and drop her off again a couple hours later. They tried to follow but lost him on the highway heading north. Worse yet, they didn't get the plate number."
"But why Gifford? It's not like her leg would be a match for Willis' missing one. Why would anybody tail her? A plain-looking, overweight reporter who gets her kicks off stalking other people?"
"I don't know. I just don't know.", Steve said with a frustrated shrug, "Could be that they think she knows something and want to silence her? Could be that this is one of Willis' bodyguards who saw her parked there and wanted to check her out himself?"
"Yeah it could be."
Both detectives fell silent, their eyes drifting back over to the lone person sitting in Mike's office, slowly sipping on her coffee, completely unaware of her audience.
"Listen, I don't want her around me as much as you do, Mike.", Steve finally said, his warm eyes scanning his superior and best friend empathetically, "But if we just blow her off and send her home and she gets kidnapped and killed…well…I'd feel like a complete fool, wouldn't you?"