"You know, if Rudy finds out about this, we're both going to lose our badges."
Despite the lighthearted tone, Steve knew that his underlying warning had been understood loud and clear across the front bench of the Galaxie.
And yet, shrugging indifferently, Mike continued to stare out the windshield, his seasoned mind taking in every person he saw along the sidewalks, every inch and nuance of his city, as if to see if anything looked amiss.
With his eyes hiding beneath the rim of the gray fedora, hands tightly wrapped around his upper body, the Lieutenant had become a stoic observer over the last few minutes, as they circled a variety of city blocks, more or less aimlessly looking for clues to fill the early morning that left them with nothing else to go for in the case of their John Doe.
Admittingly so, it was a welcome change to their fast-paced routine. As such, Steve didn't begrudge getting out of bed a bit earlier to head over to his partner's house, help him treat the burns with more cream and re-wrap the bandages, before hitting up the streets.
It seemed a small price to pay for a man who literally and figuratively put his own body between him and the dangerous flames.
Their next turn brought them back onto 16th Street heading westbound, the road slowly but surely filling with early lunch hour traffic, slowing down their travel significantly.
"A man without any sort of a background…", Mike then began, never taking his eyes off the sidewalk, "Suffering a violent death. Then gets buried in the grave of one of the biggest men of San Francisco's history. And Father Tenpenny won't tell us who buried him there or who's trying to cover up his murder. Lenny seems to think that the burial was some sort of cherished ritual by a person who revered our guy. That's about all he could give me so far though."
As Steve came to a stop at the traffic light on Church Street, it was a sudden thought that struck him out of nowhere.
"You remember when we investigated the attempted murder of your friend, Bishop Tim Farrow?"
"How could I forget? I still think of him every day. I miss him dearly.", Mike barked back, more harshly then intended, then glanced over at his partner with a sad smile to make up for the cantankerous tone.
"Well, I was just thinking, considering the injuries on the body, maybe he wasn't murdered at all. What if he committed suicide and somebody decided to give him a proper burial? Or it was an accident. We can double-check with Bernie but it would seem that the broken neck and shoulder blade could be congruent with falling out of a window or something similar."
"Mhm."
With a slight nod, Mike accepted his theory and returned his attention back to the pedestrians, pondering away on a variety of issues that seemed to damped his mood that late morning.
Deciding that he wouldn't get much more out of his partner at this point, Steve fell quiet again as he carefully navigated the Galaxie down 16th before taking a left on Sanchez, where the impressive Elementary and Middle School took up most of the city block.
And even though Steve couldn't see it, he knew that Mike's bloodhound senses had picked up a scent, hopefully leading them directly to their victim.
# # #
When the radio remained pleasantly silent for a change, they continued their rounds along the neighboring districts that bordered the Mission Dolores Cemetery, the unusually quiet day doing wonders for the two weary detectives that had been through so much over the course of the past few weeks.
The sunny day and mild temperatures only added to the uplifting theme, at least as far as Steve was concerned.
When it came to Mike on the other hand, he still worried about the scars the incident in the warehouse had left, both physically and mentally.
Ever since he was discharged from the hospital, there'd been a distinct change in the Lieutenant's ever-present balanced attitude. Like a fragile scale that had been shifted, throwing its weights off center; Mike's usual non-biased approach to life and everything surrounding it seemed askew.
The reassuring tone of his voice had changed into the edgy spectrum, handing out curt remarks when they weren't necessary, pushing the people below him just a bit more than usual, barking orders instead of giving them.
Warm blue eyes that spoke volumes of the wisdom hidden behind them were frantic now, fleetingly scanning every room before he entered, watching out for threats around each corner.
And those straight shoulders upholding the law for nearly thirty years were slumped now, as if carrying the burden of the entire town was weighing them down. And in a metaphorical sort of way, Steve could understand his partner feeling that way.
As long as there was no definite proof of Osorro's death, Mike would continue to be on guard, part of his mind always distracted, fretting about the mad arsonist, causing him to lose his focus on the current case more than once.
Steve just wondered how much longer his best friend could dance at two weddings before making a mistake.
And while he'd made it his priority to be there for him, make sure that Mike felt safe and taken care of, there was only so much in his realm of abilities and time he could dedicate to this arduous and challenging task.
Perhaps, or so he hoped, driving in circles around town would do some sort of good, creating a level of reassurance that everything was exactly where it was supposed to be while they were both caught in the storm that was the aftermath of the Osorro case.
Steve sighed subconsciously, the burden of death and destruction that had hovered above them for quite some time still causing ripple effects in far more ways than the charred remains of several buildings currently begin bulldozed or rehabbed, or the brand-new headstones and touching memorials popping up for all the people who'd fallen victim to the madman.
Time, he told himself, just give it time.
Time had a way of making everything work out in the end.
Usually one to be on top of every nuance of his body tense language; Mike stayed surprisingly quiet, never acknowledging him, his eyes focused sternly ahead like they had been for the past hour.
With a resigned headshake, Steve took another corner, trying to keep his growing concern about his partner's state of mind at bay.
Then again…everything took time.
