"You sure? Yes, that would be great. How…how much money do you need? About a hundred bucks…okay…yeah, sure no problem…"

Steve couldn't hide a faint smile listening in on Mike's conversation with Tenpenny, noticing the more-than-obvious tiptoeing the Lieutenant had mastered while talking to the obstinate priest on the other end.

With his coffee still in hand, eyes never leaving his partner during that important phone call that might make things a lot easier on their end, he patiently waited for Mike to weave himself through all the questions he was being asked by a man who seemed to know that their benevolence had more to do with law enforcement than humanity.

"Absolutely. Yes, we'd really like to contribute. Tell you what, we'll even be there to lend a hand if you like…no, I am absolutely serious."

Meeting Mike's pained grimace with unmasked enjoyment, Steve shook his head, then mouthed the words 'lend a hand', causing his partner to shrug.

"No secondary agenda, I promise. No, I am serious. Father Tenpenny, can't a man show mercy when confronted with such…sadness? It's obvious that there's a need in this community and as police officers, well…we care."

As if even the good lord himself had had enough of the incessant schmoozing, it was a faint knock on the door that helped put an end to the painful phone call.

Through the window pane, Steve could make out Lenny, gesturing toward a file in hand, then reaching for the doorknob.

Knowing that it would take a few more words of careful encouragement for Mike to finish his call, the young Inspector got up from his chair to meet the Psychiatrist in the bullpen.

Dressed in his light blue turtleneck and trying to disguise his impatience, Lenny pointed his chin at the inner office, then scoffed.

"You should tell your partner that I do have a job in the hospital.", he grunted and followed Steve's lead to sit down in the guest chair, "Calling me at seven in the morning to request a profile wasn't the way I had planned to start my day."

"What ever happened to the shirt fitting the man and making sure the man fits the shirt?", Steve teased unrelentingly, "Your passion for helping people should make this an enjoyable task."

Rewarding his flippant comment with an angry grunt, Lenny symbolical dropped the thin file on his desk before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Listen to you, wise guy. Using my own axioms against me. If I wasn't so sleep deprived from dealing with schizoid patients wreaking havoc at the hospital at 2 in the morning, I would actually appreciate this."

"We're hiring over here if you want to join our circus."

Steve wasn't the least bit surprised when Lenny shook his head fervently, his gaze moving over at Mike who was still finishing his phone call, then back to the young Inspector.

"So, the Lieutenant over there said he wanted a profile on both, this…raccoon guy and an Albert?"

"Correct…", Steve answered and took another sip of coffee, "I am expecting to get something back from R&I on Albert this morning, but so far he seems like a pretty nondescript kind of guy. We want to find out that the likelihood is that either one of these two men have something to do with Reverend Joe's death…"

"Nice of you to assume I could do much of anything with that little information I have to go on…", Lenny grunted, unusually agitated even for his snippy self, "A nearly blind guy using a racoon as some sort of emotional support animal. You're talking about somebody who either can't or refuses to fit social norms. He defies standard practices, has a heightened sense of self preservation and possibly also a hyper- elevated need to show compassion to others to make up for the lack of receiving some himself. By the sounds of it, he has given you guys a bit if a runaround, so even if he were somehow involved in your guys' death, I would guess he was an accomplice, but not the killer himself. Besides the physical limitations, he has shown too much caring behavior to be in the realm. Think about it, if he wanted to, he could have hurt you guys to keep you away, but instead, he is resorting to these silly cat and mouse games…"

"What about Albert?"

"Now that's where it gets interesting…", Lenny countered, his intense brown eyes boring into Steve's as he switched to complete psychiatrist mode, "A protégé who could have maybe outgrown his teacher, feelings of superiority, even feeling threatened. It could be that this…Reverend Joe did something that went against this guys' belief, or perhaps asked him to do something to that regard. Nothing in what little we know of the murder method currently strikes me as a planned event, so whatever happened, it tipped him over the edge, made him murder his teacher. There are countless events in history where the exact same thing happened so it's certainly conceivable. But I would feel a lot better getting some more information on these guys before narrowing their behavior down to an actual profile."

"Fair enough. I'll be sure to let Mike know what you said if you want to scoot out of here. Something tells me that this…phone call of his might take a little longer."

Steve was about to waive Lenny off, when the Psychiatrist cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Speaking of which, how is he holding up lately? I am still worried about him with this whole…Osorro situation going on. Does he still have flashbacks? Suffers from stress episodes? Any nightmares?"

Freezing in his tracks, Steve glanced down, sorting through the plethora of difficult emotions when it came to his best friend's erratic behavior over the last few weeks, his unspoken concern about Mike's mental health and what this constant pressure was doing to his work performance when it came to their current investigation.

Was it his right to discuss these concerns with Lenny? Was he in any position to question Mike to begin with? A man nearly twice his age with plenty of experience working the streets; a man who, for all intents and purposes never stopped seeing the threat that Osorro was posing and quite possibly still could pose if he had indeed managed to get out that warehouse fire alive.

Yes, Mike had admitted that he'd been right, that he was glad Steve had challenged him on the issue. But dragging Lenny into this was a different situation altogether. Things said between the privacy of their partnership were sacred, mutually accepted.

Lenny on the other hand, was a bystander, a distant spectator who had little connection to either one of them besides the professional ties; a man whose job it was to pry into other people's private business, whether it was welcome or not.

Was his friendship with Mike strong enough to withstand any unwanted repercussions coming out of such an in-depth conversation with Lenny, possibly giving away information that belonged hidden far away in the depth of their strong bond?

The sheer thought made him stop breathing, subconsciously falling completely quiet as if to fear that as little as the noise of such thoughts would make his partner aware of what was going on outside his office.

With his palms turning clammy, feet pressed into the ground below, assuring himself he wasn't falling into the abyss of insecurity and doubt, it took Lenny several attempts to get him to snap out of that worrisome state that had been his constant companion since that fateful incident a few weeks back.

And still was to this day, unfortunately.

With his warm hand tightly wrapped around Steve's wrist, two deceiving fingers resting over that small artery that gave uncomfortable insight to much of his inner turmoil, Lenny's expression darkened considerably.

"That's enough of an answer to me. I'll go talk to him."

Temporarily startled, Steve glanced up at the Psychiatrist, unsure what to say or do, feeling an unmistakable sense of guilt washing over him.

Lenny must have sensed it and shook his head slightly, just as the door to Mike's office opened slowly, the Lieutenant stopping for a brief coffee break, giving them precious time to finish their conversation.

"Trust me. I'll get to the bottom of this. For both of your guys' sake."