The confirmation of Osorro's death had changed the cadence of their work day drastically, shifting them from a constant level of awareness, chasing paper trails and witnesses, to a disturbing game of hurry-up-and-wait.
The change didn't suit Mike well, the end of an important case coming so unexpectedly drastic that his mind had a hard time coming to terms with it. Already a couple steps ahead, he'd been putting out feelers when it came to the elevator fire, hoping to see if the accelerant used matched that of Osorro. It would give them a good start into a follow-up investigation to nail down the copy cat before people would get killed.
Unfortunately for them, the entire episode had been buried under a mile-wide layer of red tape, the sheer mentioning of his name or Osorro's causing an awkward silence on the other end of the line Mike didn't appreciate the least.
Why exactly his insistence on a positive ID in the mad arsonist case had bequeathed him with a bad rep up in the brass offices, he couldn't be sure of.
Then again, there was little in the world of Mike Stone's path to righting all the wrongs that stopped him in his tracks because of some ruffled feathers upstairs.
When the day was nearing its end and no progress was within reach, he'd decided to call it an early evening, convincing Steve that a couple slow days might do wonders to their disposition and that there'd be ample cases in the future that would require them to work through the night, so might as well take the opportunity when it came up.
As usual, the young Inspector hadn't argued at all, grabbing his belongings with a relieved smile and joined his partner on the long journey down the five flights of stairs to the parking garage.
Now, well on their way to the De Haro house, Mike could feel himself beginning to relax somewhat, the friendly chitchat coming from the other side of the Galaxie's front bench doing wonders to his weary soul.
He'd been drifting in and out of the conversations ranging from the new comics in the San Francisco Telegraph to recent sports highlights and his role as a coach for many years. Steve had been almost too chatty, trying to soothe the demons in his partner's soul with the gentleness of his voice, skillfully weaving pleasant memories of recent achievements into his monologue, even going as far as expression his gratitude for the seasoned Lieutenant being his mentor several times.
In his capacity, the young Inspector was quickly dipping into any resource possible to cheer up his best friend, not even shying away from self-depreciating remarks about his indecisive nature at times and how Mike over the years had helped him do a better job at calling the shots and taking action when trouble arose.
The amicable talk had lasted all the way to the De Haro house, with Steve finishing his sentence at the same time as he put the Galaxie in park.
"So, what do you think?", was his final question as he leaned back against the front bench, one arm draped over the back.
"Think of what? Your flattery or the leftover meatloaf waiting for me up those stairs?", Mike teased in return and slapped his partner's thigh amicably, before rubbing his stomach, "Oh, I can smell it already…"
"Get out of here…", Steve grunted with a broad grin that disappeared slowly as his eyes turned somber again, "I mean it. I just…I want to make sure you're ok with everything. It's been a long few weeks and…well…I don't know about you, but I feel worn out and somewhat disillusioned. I keep trying to…to find something good in what happened in the Osorro case but in the end, it was a loss-loss situation for everyone involved. Still is."
"That happens sometimes, Buddy Boy.", Mike countered quietly and let his eyes drift up the hill from his house, "We don't always get the justice we hope for."
Even though he thought he'd been skillful in avoiding the direct question about his feelings toward the case behind one of his well-known Mike Stone axioms, he could tell from the expectant look on Steve's face that he'd been caught in the act.
Judging by the unusually open-hearted conversation coming from a young man who typically kept his feelings to himself, Lenny must have had something to do with the current conversation.
"It's going to be alright.", Mike then said to bridge the awkward silence, "I am going to be alright. And I'll make sure you are, too."
It seemed to do the trick on that early afternoon when a relieved smile returned to Steve's features and the young Inspector cocked his head, before pointing his chin toward the house.
"You have a good night, Michael. Call me if you need anything."
"You do the same, Buddy Boy.", Mike returned, one hand reaching for the door handle while he tapped his partner's chest with the other, "Try not to get into it with the local homeless population again tonight, will you? I'll see you in the morning."
"You bet.", Steve countered and waited for him to get out before shifting the car back into drive.
With a final wave, Mike turned away and took his time walking up the stairs, fishing the house keys out of his breast pocket before unlocking his front door, immediately taking in the familiar scent of books, detergent and some stale coffee he forgot to dump out this morning.
Dropping the keys onto a plate by the small end table near the couch, he stripped out of his overcoat and fedora, ready to change into something comfortable for the evening when his eyes drifted back down to road, where the Galaxie was still parked, stubbornly holding vigil for a few minutes before Steve finally pulled it away from the curb, the tail lights disappearing around the corner long after he had dropped off his partner.
