With a towel around his neck to catch the last of the seawater running off his wavy hair, Steve found himself leaning against the gray file cabinet in Mike's office once again, intently listening in on the phone conversation the Lieutenant was having.

With a new change of clothes, this time being the lavender shirt, black checkered tie and light gray suit, and several cups of hot coffee later, he was for once enjoying the cozy, semi-quiet atmosphere of the bullpen that afternoon.

"Yeah, that one…mhm…", Mike continued on undisturbed, his professional façade expertly hiding the bloodhound instincts driving for the most pertinent of all questions at the moment, "No, I was just curious if that set could fit a Skylark. Yeah, no problem, I can hold…"

Glancing up and meeting his young partner's eyes in unison excitement, Mike smiled and pointed his chin at the box of doughnuts he'd bought in as a celebration and small gesture of gratitude.

After getting his fill from the sugary treat the first time around, Steve shook his head slightly before running a hand through his damp hair one last time, relishing in the sensation of dry and warm clothes touching his skin after the involuntary trip into the freezing cold bay.

"Yeah, I am still holding…", Mike reiterated and put a hand over the receiver of his black phone, grimacing in obvious torment, before gesturing outside, "Steve, Tim's back. See what he wants…"

Turning around, he saw Doyle enter the Homicide bullpen for the second time that day, a curious expression on his face when Steve met him halfway to Mike's office.

"Did you guys get him?"

Surprised that his own crew hadn't passed on the news yet, Steve slowly shook his head.

"We lost him in the park. But he tried to get rid of some evidence down at the dock…we found it. A set of car keys. Tanner dropped it off for us at the Buick dealership down the road. Mike's running it through the gambit right now."

"Sweet. At least it's something. I am sorry you guys lost him, Stephen, I'd really hoped there'd be a quick end to your case there. I guess it wasn't meant to be."

Pursing his lips, the young Inspector looked back and forth between Mike's office and Doyle, before shrugging.

"Well, you told me a few years ago I was leaving all the fun and games behind to…to get into the real times. The big stuff. You were the one to warn me that things would almost never go to plan in Homicide. I always remembered that, Tim."

The candid words seemed to reach their intended target when the Vice Lieutenant nodded, before smiling cordially.

"I find solace in the fact that you're with the best of the best these days, Stephen.", Tim said when his eyes drifted over to Mike's office, "Make no mistake. I regret letting you go every single day. But seeing you with this…this pitbull of a cop back there…hearing the stories of the two of you canvassing the streets and solving your cases, seeing that cheeky grin of yours on the news, having to listen to the ranting reviews from the brass…it's a thing of beauty for sure. You're with the perfect partner now, Stephen. Keep working hard and make him…and all of us down in Vice proud, will ya?"