Jesse straightened his lab coat and ran his fingers back through his typically messy hair, tucking the chart under his arm. He quickly glanced around. Mark and the others would want to see this.

He spotted them at the nurses station and headed straight over there, pleased and slightly relieved to see Ellie with them. She couldn't despise them all too much then. He noted however how she stuck to Amanda and Mark, barely acknowledging Steve. He hoped she wasn't like that with him.

Mark looked up as he approached and took the chart that Jesse handed to him, "Respiratory depression, hypoxia, tachycardia and non-cardiogenic pulmonary edema," he read, before looking up at the others, "All indications of a morphine overdose."

Jesse nodded, "We'll have to confirm it, but I'd say our killer has struck again."

"Well, at least he wasn't successful this time," Amanda pointed out.

Mark looked at Jesse again, "What did you put him on?"

"Naloxone," he turned to Steve, anticipating his next question, "I should do the trick, but it's gonna be at least a couple of days before you'll be able to get anything out of him."

"But he's he gonna be okay?"

"He should be," Jesse said with a pleased nod, "We caught it in time and it helped that we knew what we were dealing with. It was touch and go for a while though."

"What about the killer?" Mark asked Steve.

Steve sighed. This case was beginning to bug him. "No sign. And no one recalls seeing anyone hanging about either."

"So," Ellie said, speaking out quietly, "While you guys were down here playing cops and robbers with me, the real killer was upstairs doing this. I suddenly feel like a cheap diversion."

That thought clearly struck Mark. "You know," he said, thoughtful wagging his finger, "She could be right." The others looked at him and he felt compelled to explain further, "Think about it - whoever did this didn't try to frame her. They must have known that we would work out that she wasn't the killer. They just wanted us out of the way long enough to commit the second murder. Either we're dealing with someone very clever or very desperate."

"Or both," Amanda said, darkly.

"Not that that really helps us," Jesse said in rather defeated manner, "Since it could be some guy who walks in off the street and walks out afterwards."

Mark shook his head, "I don't think so, Jess. Remember this was rather a professional job. And who ever did it, must have known the workings of the hospital rather well."

"And we keep forgetting about the first death," Amanda noted, "Mr Truman. The guy who had the sedative in his system."

Steve nodded. He hadn't exactly forgotten it, but it had rather got pushed to the back of his mind, what with the more imminent matter of stopping Mr Hallman from dying. Two accidents on the same stretch of innocuous road. The only thing connecting the four victims were the accidents themselves. There must be something. Something else he was missing. A connection.

Then, as he played the events of the last few days back in his mind, a horrible, sickening realisation came to mind. He'd overlooked a suspect. One who not only had had opportunities in the hospital but was at the scene of both accidents.

Mark saw the look spread over his son's face and somehow read it, knowing exactly what he was thinking.

"McKenzie?" he asked, wanting to make sure.

Steve nodded, "He had the perfect opportunity. He was at both accident sites and had constant access around this place."

"But wasn't he with you the morning Mrs Laferty died?" Amanda asked Jesse.

Jesse shook his head, "He got to me about thirty seconds before Steve came in."

"And McKenzie was there when I offered to give Mr Hallman his shots," Ellie added, "I was talking to one of the nurses and she mentioned she was going to give him the antibiotics when McKenzie intervened and said he had to talk to her. Which I was why I volunteered to do it instead."

Steve looked grim, "And while we were down here talking to you, he was supposedly upstairs interviewing the nurse who would support what Ellie was saying."

"He always knew exactly where we were and what was going on," Amanda said, her voice tinged slightly with anger, though Jesse guessed it was more at herself for missing the signs than at McKenzie.

"And he knew how to distract us," he then added, throwing a slightly guilty glance Ellie's way.

"Where is he now?" Mark asked with a sense of urgency as behind them the radio came to life with a burst of static and Jesse went to answer it.

Steve sighed, inwardly cursing his own stupidity as he pulled his cell phone, "I sent him back to the station. Told him I could handle things here."

"Er...Steve?" Jesse said, returning with a grim look on his face, "I found him. A light aircraft has gone down. It hit the side of a restaurant on one of the roads in the hills. McKenzie is apparently already on the scene. They want a couple of doctors out there. The paramedics are already there but they're sending a helicopter."

Mark could see the look of thunder on Steve's face and quickly took action. "You two," he said, pointing to Jesse and Ellie, "Get on that helicopter and get down there."

The two doctors nodded, heading off to collect their stuff and get quickly to the roof.

"And don't do anything about McKenzie," he called after them, "He's got no reason to run, so let's not give him one okay? We'll meet you there."

They both nodded, although Jesse was clearly somewhat reluctant.

"And we'd better get to your car," Mark said to Steve as they and Amanda headed for the parking lot.

---

Steve called in for exact directions to the crash site but he needn't have bothered. They could've just followed the rush of emergency vehicles heading that way. Or just driven towards the flames that were clearly visible from the areas surrounding the hills.

As Steve got out of the car, having shown his badge to the officer patrolling the cordon so he would allow them through, he was immediately assaulted by the heady smell of burning fuel.

It was easy to see what had happened. The plane had crash landed a few hundred metres from one end of the restaurant, the large trenches in the ground showing where it had skidded and only come to a stop when it had taken out one wall of the building. Being in that quaint wooden cabin style however, the rest of the building had pretty quickly gone up in flames too and the fireman were fighting a losing battle to save it. The plane itself was in two halves, the rear a crumple but the front relatively intact. The pilot could have been lucky.

From his six foot plus advantage, Steve had a pretty good view over what was going on, but couldn't see McKenzie anywhere. He spotted Jesse and Ellie assessing the casualties, but they both looked busy and harassed and so he decided not to bother them, instead heading for Captain Newman who he saw standing a few feet away.

"My God," said Amanda, shaking her head as she saw a body bag being zipped up and discretely taken away, "Why would he do this?"

"I don't know," Steve said, sharply, "But I'm gonna make him tell me."

"And if you're wrong?" Mark asked.

Steve half smiled, "Well I'll be two for two on false accusations and will be spending a lot of money of chocolates."

The remark of course left the other two perplexed and that made him smiled even more.

"Sir," he said, interrupting Newman as he was talking to a uniformed officer.

"Sloan," he said in mild surprise, "What are you doing down here?"

"Sir," he said with a deep sigh knowing this wasn't going to be easy or popular, "I have reason to believe that Detective McKenzie may be involved in the case I've been investigating."

Newman looked momentarily startled by that by pulled his composure back together rapidly.

"I suppose you had something to do with this," he said with a tone of inevitability, looking at Mark.

Steve shook his head, "This is my call, sir."

"Well, your call might be a mute point, Lieutenant," he said grimly, "McKenzie was one of the first officers on the scene. He went into the building to try and get some people out and he hasn't been seen since."

Amanda frowned, "What is he up to? If he did cause this why is he trying to be the hero?"

"The hero?" Mark asked, the phrase striking a cord. He turned to Steve, "Didn't you say that a lot of his family were rather celebrated emergency workers? That he felt a pressure to live up to that?"

"You don't think that's why he's doing it, do you?" said Steve, "Dad, that's crazy."

"Yes. And maybe McKenzie is."

There was really no arguing with that. Fortunately Steve caught sight of a man being lead away from the front of the plane. "The pilot," he indicated, crossing over to him and guessing the others would follow.

"Do you what happened?" he asked.

The EMT who was taking care of him looked slightly annoyed. The pilot had a large gash on his head and was clearly unsteady on his feet.

"Please," Mark said, calming the EMT's rant before it started, "We just need a moment."

Recognising Mark, she decided to give the detective some leeway.

Steve turned back to the pilot again. "What happened?" he asked again.

The pilot shook his head in a woozy manner, "I'm not sure. The engine failed, I think."

"Don't you have to do checks before you take off?" Amanda asked, wondering how something so drastic could have happened between here and the landing strip just half a mile away.

"Yeah, and I did," the pilot said defensively, "Everything was fine."

"Could anyone have tampered with your plane?" Mark asked.

"Tampered?" he asked, then frowned for a moment, "Well, there was this guy. He said he was a cop. Showed me his badge and everything. Didn't catch his name. He said that he was investigating drug trafficking in light aircraft and wanted to check the plane for any concealed stash."

"And you let him?" Steve asked.

The pilot looked at him with a screwed up expression, wondering why he was asking that, "Of course I did. He was a cop."

Behind them there was a sudden shouting commotion. Steve heard his name being called out and it only took him a moment to notice a guy in a doctor's windbreaker waving at him. Closer inspection revealed that it was Jesse and he was motioning for them to go over to him. Steve ran over there, Mark and Amanda hot on his heels.

He was going to ask the young doctor what he wanted when it became apparently clear. Ellie, a couple of EMT's and cops and were leading a group of people away from the burning building. McKenzie, looking a little worse for wear, was helping them out of the cellar.

"Thank God for that cop," Steve heard one woman say through her coughs as Ellie lead her to a safe distance, "He saved all our lives."

The fire officials then came over and ushered them all back, despite the protests of various emergency workers. The building wasn't going to hold much longer and they had to get to a safer distance.

Steve however resisted being manhandled away, instead looking at McKenzie and finally catching the young man's eye. It only took him a moment to read something in Steve's face that said he had figured it out. And then McKenzie looked sorry and turned and disappeared into the cellar once again.

The firemen immediately went nuts, two of them crossing to the cellar entrance and screaming at McKenzie to get back up there. Moments later he reappeared, leading an elderly couple, obviously badly suffering from smoke inhalation, up the stairs. Neither could walk very well and the two fireman had no choice but to help get them to safety. Unnoticed behind them, McKenzie's head suddenly dropped right out of view. The stairs had collapsed.

Ignoring Mark and Amanda's shouts of 'Steve, no!' he dodged round the two fireman and made his way to the cellar entrance. The heat coming from the burning building was incredible and he had to shield his eyes against it. Ignoring the painful tingling feeling in his skin he bent down towards the entrance.

"McKenzie!" he shouted, as loudly as he could before he got a lungful of smoke and had to cough.

"Detective Sloan?" a voice inquired before a face appeared to accompany it. Steve was shocked to see the fear in the younger man's eyes a look that drove all his anger away.

Somehow though the detective kept his voice all calm and business like. "Detective Sloan, there's still a woman down here. I think my arm is broke so I'm gonna need your help to get her out."

"Just get her over here and I'll get you both out," Steve said firmly.

McKenzie didn't answer, instead disappearing out of sight for a few moments and returning, half dragging a woman who seemed to be in a pretty bad way. McKenzie hoisted her up as best he could with his good arm. Even so, Steve had to lean a long way over to reach her. As he did so, he also grabbed at McKenzie with his other arm, gripping him by the leather strap of his gun holster.

But he was too off balanced and however much he wriggled back he couldn't pull them both up, "Hang on," he said, still gripping tight and trying not to be pulled in with them, "Help will be here in a minute."

McKenzie looked to the cellar roof as it creaked even more loudly however, more sections caving in. He glanced back up at Steve and shook his head.

"Just tell my dad I'm sorry for what I did."

Steve noticed far too late that McKenzie had been undoing the buckle on the holster. As he released it, Steve grabbed desperately at him, but couldn't catch him and he felt out of sight below. Steve easily pulled the now unconscious woman out of the basement. He quickly carried her towards the safety of the ambulances, seeing the relieved looks on the faces of his father and friends.

"Where's McKenzie?" Mark asked, as Steve lay the woman on a gurney at Jesse's request.

"He's still in the basement," Steve said, with a mixture of anger and worry, "We need to-"

His words were cut off however by a loud crashing sound as the floor of the restaurant fell into the basement.

---

"How's the jaw?"

"A little tender."

"Only a little? wanna give me another go?"

Steve half smiled, the first one he'd even attempted in quite some time. After a busy night running between the crash site, the station and the hospital - with a quick stop off at the store - his dad had finally pinned him down long enough to make him get checked out. He'd wondered at Mark's rather satisfied smile, but had understood it when he saw who was going to give him the check over.

Ellie.

He'd brought the chocolates he'd promised himself he would but had been trying to palm them off on his father to give them to her. Now it seemed he was cornered.

"That was pretty smart hit," he said, rubbing his jaw at the memory, "Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I worked in Chicago, remember?" she said, taking her pen light and flashing it across his eyes, "My mom insisted I took some self defence classes."

Steve let out a small laugh, "It was money well spent."

There was a small moment of silence as Ellie jotted something down on his chart. "You're fine," she said, signing it. "Not even slightly singed."

When she looked up again, Steve was holding out a box of chocolates.

"What's that?" she asked, hands on hips in a dismissive manner, "The 'sorry-I-thought-you-were-a-mass-murderer' selection?"

But she was smiling when she took them.

"I am sorry," he said, holding out his hand, "Friends?"

She shook it without hesitation, "Friends."

Steve nodded, somehow now knowing what his father saw in her that he'd missed.

"And I'm sorry about what happened to your partner," she added as he followed her out of the room, "Even after what he did."

"Yeah," Steve said softly, "So am I."

---

"So, it definitely was him," Mark said as he and Steve headed towards the doctors lounge for a well earned cup of coffee.

Steve nodded. It had been three days since the plane crash and the reports for the accidents cases were still sitting on his desk. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with them.

"Yeah, it was," he answered, "One of the nurses upstairs confirmed seeing him there the morning Mrs Laferty died and Mr Hallman recognised him as the cop who pulled them over saying there appeared to be something wrong with their car. Apparently he checked it over and fiddled about with some stuff. An examination of the car showed the brake line had been partially severed."

"So he must've killed Mrs Laferty and tried to kill Mr Hallman so they wouldn't identify him," Mark reasoned.

Steve nodded again, "I checked out the first death again too. It seems McKenzie had been prescribed diazepam for depression. And he did an unauthorised inspection in the same restaurant Mr Truman ate at the night he died."

Mark could see the connection there. McKenzie could have certainly managed to have drugged Truman's food.

Steve sighed, "I just don't get it, dad. I know he felt pressure to live up to his what his family achieved, but to go so far as to cause accidents for him to help at...."

"He wanted to be a hero," Mark shrugged, "And in some ways he was. He did save some lives back at that restaurant."

Steve knew that, and it was what made closing this case so difficult. He'd never felt any pressure to be in competition with his father and hence he couldn't really understand how McKenzie had felt, and yet part of him sympathised with the young man.

"Yeah, after he endangered them in the first place," he said quietly, "I know he did good, but someone has to be pretty disturbed to cause all that violence and mayhem."

They walk into the lounge, but came to a halt well before the coffee machine. Jesse and Ellie were sitting about a foot from the TV, engrossed in a particularly violent video game. Mark and Steve shared a look.

"No, shoot him in the head, not the leg!" Jesse half shrieked, smacking the buttons with some fervour, "He's still crawling towards us!'

"Jesse, he's only got one leg," Ellie reasoned, although her tone was equally high strung, "He's never gonna get us before I get my shotgun out."

"You were saying?" Mark said to Steve with a chuckle.

The two young doctors immediately dropped the control pads as they jumped to their feet, standing up to hide the TV. They both had the guiltiest looks on their faces.

"This isn't ours," Jesse said hurriedly.

"No," Ellie agreed.

"Someone brought it for us."

"Lent it to us."

"For a very short time."

"We're not enjoying this."

There was a screaming sound and some sad music from the TV and the turned back with a slight panic on their faces.

"Oh my God!" Jesse protested, indicating the screen, "You forgot to press pause! You killed us!"

"I'm sorry!" Ellie wined, very apologetically.

"It took us two and a half hours to get to that level," Jesse pointed out before he realised that Mark and Steve were still looking at them with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.,

"Er...Slow day....", he improvised as he and Ellie made a swift exit.

Steve smiled as Mark poured two cups of coffee, "Are you sure it's a good idea to let them work together. They're a bad influence on each other."

Mark smiled in return, "I did think of that. But they do keep me amused."

As he watched Jesse and Ellie chatting to Amanda at the desk, the smile widened even more. That good feeling he'd had about her had returned. It had taken a few days, but she had forgiven them for their accusations. Amanda, who had exonerated her, had become her new best friend and after a few awkward meetings, she had accepted Jesse's apologies. Even Steve, who she had clearly blamed for the whole thing had been forgiven.

Mark sighed in relief, glad for the growth in his little family.

---

All was quiet in the LA precinct. Even the most dedicated cops rarely stayed until this time of night.

In his office however, Steve twiddled a pen in his fingers, occasionally tapping the end on the desk. The case files for the accident victims were sitting open in front of him, waiting to be finished off.

He just didn't know how to.

McKenzie had been a murderer, that was true and he should write that. But then what about all those lives he'd saved at the restaurant fire? And the fact that he'd sacrificed his own life to save him and that woman.

The unbiased detective part of him said he should report what he had found and close the case, concluding that McKenzie was a lunatic and a murderer. The other part of him though was the one that had listened to the guy's devastated father, a man who had taken comfort in the way his son had 'so bravely died'. Could he bring himself to shatter that? And the sorrow and remorse he had seen in the detective's eyes had been real enough. Hadn't McKenzie paid for what he did already without ruining the memory of him? He could quite easily leave the case as unsolved. No physical evidence had been found to link McKenzie to the crimes and the only people who really knew were his dad and the others. No one would ever have to know.

Both choice was right and both was wrong and he didn't know how to decide.

At that moment, Captain Newman walked in.

"Have you got those files on the accidents?" he asked Steve, "You said you'd have them on my desk by the end of the day."

Steve nodded, holding them up. "They're right here."

"What did you find out?" Newman asked quietly, "Was McKenzie involved?"

And at that Steve let his gut take over, not listening to his sensible head that was screaming out something entirely different. In his heart of hearts he somehow knew this was right.

"No sir," he said firmly, "I was wrong. Sometimes accidents do happen, right?"

Newman looked at him for a long moment and Steve guessed that he knew. But he didn't say a word. Just walked away with a nod.

Picking up his pen, Steve marked the cases closed without conclusion, feeling good and bad about himself at the same time. Looking at the night sky through his office window, the smouldering of what had been the restaurant still slightly visible, he just prayed that wherever McKenzie was he had gotten some kind of justice. And some kind of peace.