The morning had started out a bit different than usual for Mike, his first stop being the courthouse on McAllister where he'd been summoned to testify on a hit and run case from a few months back.

He happened to come across the scene of the accident during one of their investigations and was the first officer on site, making him a prime witness for the prosecution when it came to identifying the flight vehicle.

Even though court appearances were a regular occasion in his line of work, Mike hadn't been able to stifle a sigh when he saw the notice the other day, knowing that any hour spent away from his desk could potentially rob him of significant headway in their cases.

Alas, he'd gotten up early, dressed accordingly and met the prosecutor shortly before nine, then spent an hour and a half being dragged through a cross examination, until both sides were satisfied with their findings.

It was nearly noon when Mike returned to the Hall of Justice, anxious to see if anything had turned up overnight. As he exited the elevator to the fourth floor, turning left toward the main office, he glanced up briefly, nodding his head at Captain Olsen making his way down the busy corridor, Rudy's ashen face speaking of a long few days of dealing with the press and several new murder cases that had popped up across the city.

When the sign for Office 450 came into view, Mike sped up his pace, subconsciously eager to enter his den, see where things were standing on all active investigations, most of all his own.

The usual atmosphere greeted him, a mix of hasty detective work and dedicated professionalism, all desks filled with their respective owners, the Telex machine printing away eagerly, the water cooler bubbling away over in the corner, the midnight cleaning crew having refilled the beverage table with a new tin of coffee and filters.

Sighing in quiet relief at the notion that everything was still the way it should be, Mike headed toward his office, stopping briefly to acknowledge his partner who was busy with a phone call. The bits and pieces of conversation he picked up sounded like a round of questions for R&I, a positive sign that the young Inspector might have come across something to further their case.

Restraining his curiosity as best as possible, Mike took off his fedora and overcoat, then meandered to the coffee machine for his first cup of the day, finishing pouring by the time he heard Steve hang up the phone.

"Sorry I was late. Kilmer took forever on the cross examination…", he explained and turned around in time to see his partner get up and stretch, the sleeves of his mandarin dress shirt pulled up, the assortment of black and blue handprints on his forearms stopping Mike in his tracks.

"What happened to you?"

"Not what. Who.", Steve countered cryptically and joined him by the coffee machine.

Just as the young Inspector reached over for the carafe, Mike grabbed a hold of his arm, examining the bruises that had come from large hands, several of them, fresh enough that the skin below was swollen and tender still.

"Who did this? What happened last night?"

"Well, I thought I'd treat myself to a night at the Northside…", Steve grunted, his voice fueled with unbridled aggravation, "On my way back, I get dragged into an alley and worked over by Hernandez and his guys. He's the tall Hispanic we had in here yesterday along with the other homeless people…remember? Angry Rafael?"

With his eyebrows raised in concern, Mike gestured downstairs.

"Did you file a report?"

"On what? A few bruises and sore ribs? No. It wasn't worth it. But what was worth it was the fact that Hernandez is adamant about the fact that he didn't kill nobody. He runs some sort of gang of homeless guys on the northside, pushes people around here and there when they get too close to his territory, but mostly keeps to himself. He suspects Albert of killing Reverend Joe."

"He told you all that while working you over in the back of an alley?", Mike countered incredulously and reached over to refill his partner's coffee, hoping it would keep the conversation from getting disrupted.

"Pretty much. He just kept mumbling away as he was polishing his knuckles on my ribs. I am inclined to believe him."

"A guy assaulting a police officer like that? Pardon my hesitation on that one…you sure you're ok though?"

Looking his partner up and down one more time, Mike handed the coffee back before wrapping and arm around the young Inspector's shoulders and leading Steve toward the inner office.

"Yeah, I am fine. Just sore. Seems that this clearly isn't my week. But I am actually glad it happened because it gave me an idea."

"An idea?"

"Yeah. I ehm…I was going to bounce it off you when you came in. You got a minute?"

"Sure."

Sitting down behind his desk, Mike watched his partner slowly drop into the guest chair, stiff and aching muscles making the effort look clumsy at best.

"So, what's on your mind?"

"Well, I was thinking that…you know, we've been spending so much time chasing homeless people across town…why don't we figure out a way to…to bring them all together?"

With his eyebrows raised, Mike leaned back in his chair, hands resting in his lap as he pondered away.

"And how would we do just that?"

Shrugging impatiently, Steve sipped on his coffee.

"I don't know. We could…well…we could put on some sort of food event. Maybe cook chili and invite them over. Something free to get them to come together. This way we can have Rick and Albert come to us rather than us chasing them."

An amicable smile spread on Mike's lips, the train of thought quite noble and yet fiscally impossible from their position.

"And how would you like to explain the expense of such an event to the San Francisco tax payers?", he nudged warmly, "You're just going to have Haley and Hassejian cook up a big crock of chili and Lessing and Tanner get dressed up as cooks and hand out the food while we lurk in the dark back corner waiting to handcuff people standing in line?"

The mental image made both of them chuckle for many long moments, a much-needed reprieve from the daily grind.

"I'd wager that a chili cookoff would be less expensive than our payroll chasing these guys across town for days on end…", Steve argued with a wily grin, his point answered with a fervent headshake from his partner.

"For a person of interest? A set of guys we don't even have enough on to arrest them for something? Come on, Buddy Boy. That long night getting to you? The DA's Office would have us for breakfast if we tried to build a murder case out of all that circumstantial evidence. No, that's not going to fly. But I agree, we have to change our tactics somehow. We're not going to get anywhere until we talk to both of them."

Running a tired hand across his freshly shaven cheek, Mike let his eyes drift over his immaculately organized desk, not entirely discounting Steve's idea although he knew it'd be impossible to authorize.

Then again, nothing said they couldn't piggy-back onto a similar event under the guise of humanity.

"Wait a minute, Buddy Boy…wait just one minute…didn't Father Tenpenny say something about a soup kitchen?"

"He did, but I think it was for a woman's shelter…"

With a renewed sense of progress, Mike reached for his Rolodex, skipping through the vast assortment of names for a few minutes while his partner stared at him confused.

"What are you doing? You're going to try to convince him to put on a luncheon for the men?"

"Something like that, yeah. I might tell him that throughout our investigation my eyes have been opened to the suffering of the homeless and we want to throw a few bucks at him to make some meals for the homeless men in this town. See if he buys it. As a matter of fact, I bet that would be the best twenty bucks we've spent in a while."

"You'd lie to a priest like that?", Steve asked with a cheeky grin before raising an index finger, "Lieutenant, Lieutenant. The criminal element is flowing strong in this office this morning."

"Not lying. Just…neglecting to mention a few things in regards to our ongoing investigation. We're still going to feed the hungry, my judgmental friend, but if by chance a certain two persons of interest show up, well I guess we might as well apprehend them while we're there…"