"You sure you're ok?"
It had been an excruciatingly long three weeks without seeing that bright smile outside his office door, making Mike more anxious than usual, as he hovered around his partner, carefully placing himself between Steve and the elevator doors as they arrived at the 4th Floor of the Hall of Justice Building.
"Yep…yep, I am fine…", the young Inspector returned patiently, having done so numerous times throughout their slow trip from the parking garage downstairs, as he carefully navigated the crutches to hop from the elevator onto the open hallway.
"Just take it easy. I mean it."
"I know. You said so before. Don't worry."
Steve had barely taken a couple more steps, taking a moment to readjust his grasp on the crutches, when Mike's hand appeared on his back, attempting to steady him.
"You need a break? I can have Sekulovich bring a chair down here if you need to take a break for a moment."
"No, I am fine."
Honored, and yet mildly annoyed by the incessant fretting that was going on week three, Steve shook his head and proceeded to make his way down the long corridor, careful to keep his injured leg out of the way of anything that could touch it.
"We're almost there!", Mike coached and gestured toward the door to Office 450 enthusiastically, causing his partner to shake his head with a broad smile.
"I know. I work here too."
The Lieutenant kept one hand on his partner's shoulder until they were close enough, then walked ahead to open the door wide, allowing for Steve to hop through, enjoy the everyday frenzy of one of the busiest departments in the city.
Several cheery greetings echoed from various corners, undoubtedly grateful to see some normality return, and in doing so, ease the incessant fretting Mike had bestowed upon everything from his partner to his daughter and the entire department, a well-ingrained coping mechanism that showed up after especially traumatic cases.
"So ehm…are you and Janine going to mother-hen me to death now?", Steve countered mirthfully and made his way over to his desk where a bag of chocolate sinkers greeted him.
"Only until you are back on your feet, my friend…both of them.", Mike countered from behind and waited for him to put all his weight on his good leg in order to lean the crutches against his desk and dress out of his beige sportscoat.
"Thanks…", Steve mumbled as Mike helped get his arms out of the sleeves and hung up the overcoat with a warm smile, "If you don't mind, there's a letter in there, could you please put it in the mail outbox?"
With a quizzical frown, the Lieutenant reached inside the coat and retrieved the nondescript letter with the Modesto address on it, his expression turning into utter surprise.
"Well, would you look at that? You decided to start a conversation? Mend some fences?"
"Something like that…", Steve replied with a faint smile, "Let's just say I had a lot of time to think out in that forest and then in…in the hospital. Thought about some of the things you said too. And they suddenly made sense. We'll see if it leads to anything."
"I am sure it will, Buddy Boy, I am sure it will."
Cocking his head in understanding, Mike walked across the bullpen to put the letter in the designated outbox, before heading to the coffee machine, dropping a dime in the change jar before filling two cups and bringing them over to his partner's desk.
"So, you need a few moments to get settled back in before working on reports?"
Returning back to his fretting self, Mike rearranged the back of sinkers and the coffee cup to make room for Steve to push the chair up to his desk, leaving everything within arm's reach.
"Nah, I think I am good. I had three weeks to do nothing work related. I think it's time to get back to the grindstone, even if it means running the old typewriter hot."
They shared a quick chuckle, before Mike hesitated and raised his index finger.
"There's one thing you should read before you get started, here let me get it…"
With the cryptic message, the Lieutenant disappeared in his office for a brief moment, only to return with a copy of the San Francisco Telegraph, opened to the page reserved for opinion pieces and short stories.
"Oh no…don't tell me…"
"Oh yes…", Mike countered and dropped the paper off at his desk, before disappearing in his office to grab a phone call.
Below Claire Gifford's picture was an unusually short piece, considering the lengthy columns she had put out in the past. Sighing dreadfully, Steve took a sip of hot coffee and began reading.
"My project of depicting the characters of Detectives Graham and Hicks throughout their many adventures took an unexpectedly realistic and rather personal turn a few weeks ago, when I was kidnapped from my apartment and drug to an abandoned warehouse up north. Although I will spare you the grim details surrounding my capture, I am here today sharing my experiences with you because of the tireless efforts of two detectives who, not just were kidnapped as well, but who selflessly risked their lives on multiple occasions to protect mine. I saw first-hand what it means to abide by the term "to serve and protect" and it went far deeper than the cliché, believe me. Many of the things I saw and heard will scar me forever, and it made me realize that my extraordinary experience is rather ordinary for the fine men and women in this chosen profession we so often criticize and even ridicule. I don't think anyone can even begin to image what these officers and detectives go through on a daily basis, the difficult decisions they must make, the dangers they face and the shadow of death that follows them everywhere. We can go about our business and sleep well at night because of the men and women in uniform who protect this city with everything they have, willing to lay their life on the line for perfect strangers. I thought that the success of my column spoke volumes about the way I had portrayed my Graham and Hicks characters but truth be told, I was way off. My analysis of the complex emotions associated with a partnership in this difficult line of work barely scratched the surface. The degree of dedication, compassion and selfless bravery can not be put into words, they escape my level of eloquence by far. They are traits that can only be witnessed in action, in the middle of a deadly firefight, when a protective arm keeps you out of harm's way, or during a tear-filled, dreadful goodbye, having to leave your fallen partner behind to get help, then drag your injured body across hostile environments all over again to reunite. These are unspoken tales happening around us every day, acts of unbelievable heroism that never reach the airwaves, that rarely receive accolades, and yet that are expected and accepted by those carrying a shield. My stories paled in comparison to the gritty reality that is the lives of our police officers. As such, I feel compelled to end the adventures of Detectives Graham and Hicks now, after my eyes have been opened to the truth that many of us are so blissfully oblivious to; and we should be quite grateful about that. I will end this column with one last, sincere Thank You to those two brave souls who did so much with so little, whose strong and intricate partnership is something I was honored to witness up close and will cherish for the rest of my days. Thank you for showing a naïve reporter what it means to give and care unconditionally and to weather any storm with the strong bonds of friendship."
Steve put the paper down with a warm smile, forcing the images from the forest out of his mind that morning as he studied the carefully written paragraphs from afar once more.
Gifford had been right about one thing. Words could never even begin to express what they'd been through over the past few years; how this unlikely partnership had evolved into something amazing neither detective could have imagined at the beginning. Few would ever know the special place Mike held in his heart, and would until the day he died.
Steve must have been staring at the newspaper for a while when a warm hand appeared on his shoulder, the unexpected gesture causing him to flinch.
Keeping his hand there a brief moment longer, Mike smiled, then pointed his chin at the article.
"Don't you want to know what her next project will be? Because she called me yesterday to tell me before announcing it in the paper tomorrow."
Frowning, Steve looked up at his partner expectantly, the Cheshire cat grin on the Lieutenant's face broadening as he let the seconds tick by to build excitement.
"It's going to be a piece about city leaders and what they deal with on a daily basis to keep everything running. She said she'll specifically narrow in on the role of the Mayor and the Police Chief."
"No way!", Steve blurted out, understanding the ironic implications immediately.
"You better believe it. She's dead serious. Ready to zone in on Conden to make the piece as…how did she call it…realistic as possible. Considering he felt that her stories about us were great police PR work, I am sure he's going to be excited to have Gifford shadow him ever step of the way. By the sounds of it, the project is a big scale effort from sides of the paper to highlight city workers and it will be her sole occupation for the next nine months. The Mayor is excited about it and ensured full cooperation from sides of the Police Chief. I am sure John is going to love every minute of this."