Steve had no idea how long he had been lying on the gurney in the Emergency Room cubicle with the pale blue curtains drawn. The aching in his head had begun to subside and he was starting to remember what had happened to bring him here.
There had been the sound of squealing tires and a terrified scream and he had been shoved, hard… but the rest was a blur. He thought he remembered hitting his head, and then he was looking up at his partner's face hovering over him but most of the rest was a jumble of brief bursts of pain punctuated by visions of someone wrapping his head and getting him into an ambulance.
He had no idea where his partner was; the last he remembered seeing him was when Mike was being helped out of the back of the ambulance, his left arm in a sling pressed close to his chest and wincing in obvious discomfort.
His head had been examined, he knew, and he had been sent for a CT scan but since being wheeled back to the emergency room, where his head had been rewrapped, he had been alone. There was a lot of commotion beyond the closed curtains and he knew the hospital was having a busy day, but he hoped he didn't have to wait too long till they would send him home.
He raised his right hand and rubbed his temple below the bandage. The ache was duller but it was definitely still there; he was hoping they would give him something for it before they let him go.
The curtains opened and a doctor he thought he recognized stepped to the bed. The grey-haired man, who was closer to Mike's age than his own, smiled encouragingly as he raised the metal clipboard in his hand and glanced at it.
"Remember me, Mr. Keller?" he asked with a chuckle.
Lowering his hand, Steve squinted slightly. "Uh…"
The doctor's smile grew a little wider. "Don't worry about it, temporary amnesia is par for the course with the kind of injury you have. I'm Doctor Bowden; we met when you came in." His eyes snapped to the clipboard again. "We have the results of your CAT scan. And you can relax, it's good news. There's no fracture and so far there is no indication of any subdural bleeding so that's all good. The bad news, I guess you could say, is we're not going to let you out tonight, not until we're sure you're not going to develop any complications, so we're going to admit you and will assess you again tomorrow and then decide when we can send you home."
Steve, who had been staring at the doctor with a look that had transitioned from relief to annoyance, sighed as heavily as he dared.
Bowden's smile got wider. "Before we send you to a room, we're gonna need to stitch that head of yours and get you out of your clothes and into a gown, so just sit tight and I'll be back as soon as I can with all that."
As he turned to leave, Steve reached out and grabbed his arm. Bowden turned back, frowning, expecting an argument.
"Do you know what's happening with my partner?"
"Would that be the older guy in the suit and fedora with the broken arm?
Steve smiled despite himself. "Yeah, that would be him."
"I think they're just about to let him go. I'll find out and let you know."
Steve released his arm. "Thanks." His hand dropped onto the gurney and he closed his eyes as the doctor left. A couple of minutes later he heard the curtains rattle again and kept his eyes closed, assuming it was Bowden returning. Someone approached the bed but the ensuing silence was puzzling and he opened his eyes a slit. Mike's worried frown was all he could see.
"Are you okay?" the older man asked almost breathlessly.
Steve smiled as best he could, his eyes widening. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." His gaze flicked down to the heavy beige cotton sling, strapped diagonally across his partner's chest under the blue suit jacket. "How are you?"
Mike snorted self-consciously. "Broke my wrist. An 'extra-articular, non displaced fracture of the radius'," he said slowly, enunciating every syllable as if reciting something he was forced to learn in school. He shrugged. "Like I said, a broken wrist." He chuckled warmly. "Luckily, I don't need surgery, and I don't even have a full cast; it's a splint and a tensor bandage."
Steve smiled back. "Is that all?"
The older man frowned, puzzled. "You mean did I break anything else?"
"Or bend anything else…"
Smiling, Mike laughed. "No, luckily enough, but my left hip and my back are bruised so I'm going to be walking like an old man for awhile I guess." He stared at the younger man and his smile disappeared, replaced by a look that seemed suspiciously like guilt. "I'm, ah, I'm sorry I pushed you so hard but I just moved on instinct, I guess…"
"Hey, I'm not complaining," Steve said softly, trying not to aggravate the ache in his skull. "How the hell did you react so fast anyway?"
Mike's eyebrows rose. "Oh, ah, years ago I was walking Jeannie to school one day when a drunk blew through the light on the corner where we were crossing and hit a car and started careening towards us. I managed to grab Jeannie and get her out of the way in time and we weren't hurt but ever since, when I hear screeching tires, I guess I just react instinctively."
Steve smiled at him. "I'm glad you did."
Mike nodded, his lips pursed, and he swallowed heavily.
"How the hell did you get out of the way in time?"
The older man snorted. "I have no idea. I just know I jumped and I guess I managed to get high enough to clear the grill. Must be all those years of playing basketball," he laughed softly.
"Must be." They stared at each other for a long beat, realizing how close they had both come. "Ah, so I hear they're letting you go home," Steve said eventually.
"Ah, yeah," Mike nodded with a half-shrug. "Rudy's here. He's gonna drive me. I hear they're going to keep you in for the night."
Steve nodded.
Mike reached out and patted his shoulder. "I know you're not happy about it but I'm glad they are. I want to make sure you're okay; you took quite a shot to the head, buddy boy."
The younger man suppressed a warm smile; Mike didn't seem aware he had fallen into the old habit and he wasn't about to call him on it… not now. "Have you heard anything about the driver?"
The older man shook his head. "No. I just know it was a woman."
Steve's eyebrows rose slightly then he frowned. "Do, ah, do you think it really was an accident?"
Mike pressed his lips together and his eyes narrowed. "So you've been thinking the same thing I have, hunh? That we were set-up?"
"It's been crossing my mind."
Mike nodded. "Mine too. After all it was a woman I talked to. But before we jump to conclusions, I want to hear from Traffic and see what they have to say. It could just've been an accident." He bobbled his head with raised eyebrows.
A smirk twisted the younger man's face. "What, you mean like a coincidence?"
With a snort, the lieutenant smiled. "Yeah, like a coincidence."
Steve laughed, then winced, raising his right hand to press against the side of his head as he closed his eyes. Mike reached out and squeezed his arm. "I'm okay," the younger man mumbled.
The curtains rattled and Dr. Bowden stepped into the cubicle followed by a nurse pushing a trolley with a tray of small instruments and a blue gown folded on top. "Oh," the doctor said, almost sliding to a stop, "I didn't know you had company." He held out his hand towards Mike. "You must be his partner. Doctor Bowden."
Smiling, Mike took the hand and shook it. "Mike Stone." He nodded towards the bed. "How's he doing, Doc?"
Bowden chuckled. "Well, he's going to need a few stitches and we're gonna keep an eye on him overnight, but if all is well in the morning, he'll be able to go home."
Beaming, Mike looked at his partner. "That sounds good to me." He turned his attention back to the doctor. "I'll get out of your hair." His warm eyes returned to the young man on the gurney. "And I'll talk to you tomorrow, if I don't see you." He reached out and squeezed Steve's arm again, the smile disappearing momentarily then he turned and stepped through the curtains.
Steve watched him go.
# # # # #
Rudy Olsen was standing near the entrance to the waiting room talking to an older grey-haired man in a patrolman's uniform who Mike recognized as Captain Charlie Bannon from Traffic. Trying to hide the limp from his aching hip, he approached them eagerly, hoping to learn more about what had happened.
Olsen saw him coming and the craggy face broke into another relieved smile. "So, how is he?"
Mike's face lit up, as it did every time he got to speak about his partner. His head was bobbing as his eyes snapped back and forth between his two colleagues. "He's, ah, he's okay. Not happy about being made to stay overnight but…" He shrugged at the inevitable then fixed the suddenly serious blue eyes on the Traffic captain. "So, what have you got for me, Charlie?"
Bannon grinned with a wry chuckle. "Cut right to the chase, eh, Mike?" He glanced at Olsen, who stared back with an 'I told you so' smirk. "So from everything we've uncovered so far, it was just an accident, Mike." When the Homicide lieutenant frowned, he continued quickly. "The driver is a young Chinese woman, and we checked and she has a clean driving record. Now they talked to her at the scene before she was transported here - she has a laceration on her forehead from hitting the steering wheel and she's getting stitches - and she said she had just started through the lights on Sacramento when a dog ran out in front of her car and she panicked and lost control." He shrugged.
Mike stared at him silently for a couple of beats. "A dog?"
Bannon nodded. "Yeah. Some of the boys did a canvas and several people said they did see a dog run across the intersection in front of her car. It took off when the tires squealed and nobody's seen it since."
With a heavy sigh, Mike looked at Olsen and raised his eyebrows. The captain chuckled and shook his head slightly, reaching out to pat the lieutenant on the arm. "What, ah, what were you and Steve doing down there anyway?"
"We got a tip from someone about that Christmas Day Chinese restaurant murder. They wanted to meet us in person before they said any more."
"Wrong place, wrong time," Bannon ventured with a commiserating smile.
"Yeah," Mike sighed. "Let's just hope they call back."
'Yeah," Olsen concurred.
"Oh, ah, before I forget." Bannon turned around and picked something up from the chair behind him. "I believe this is yours," he said, holding out the folded black topcoat.
Mike looked surprised. "Oh, jeez, I forgot all about it." He started to reach for it but Olsen beat him to it.
"I'll take that."
"Thanks, Rudy."
"Let's get you home," Olsen said as Mike looked at Bannon.
"Thanks, Charlie. You know, I was wondering if Steve and I were targeted…"
"Well, I'm just glad everybody's going to be all right. That was a hell of a crash."
"Yeah, not the way I wanted to end my day," Mike chuckled softly as he and Olsen started slowly towards the Emergency exit.
# # # # #
His head now bandaged, and changed into the hospital gown, Steve was still in Emergency, waiting to be transferred to a room for the night. He didn't open his eyes when he heard the curtains rattle and someone approach the bed. But when everything went silent he squinted up towards the ceiling.
A beautiful young Chinese woman, a bandage on her forehead, was leaning slightly over the bed. Her guilty expression suddenly broke into a wide smile then she bit her lip in uncertainty.
"Hi," she said softly and shyly. "I'm, ah, I'm the one who almost killed you…"
