Friendship is a fragile balance, easily upset by the storms of life that threaten to shift the burden from one side to the other. It's a yin and yang, give and take, action and reaction…as Mike will soon realize.
His premature return to the bullpen the following morning had caused several vocal protests from the countless good souls manning the garage, front desk and 4th floor of the Hall of Justice Building.
Walking decidedly slower, with his right arm protectively wrapped around his chest to support his aching ribs, Mike tried to ignore the surprised, and distressed glances in his general direction as he crossed the bullpen on his way to his office.
Despite his half-day hiatus, all seemed decidedly quiet, and each Sergeant and Inspector of his department was accounted for and sitting at their respective desks working away.
It helped put his daily worries at peace and look forward to making more headway in the Sullenger murder case.
Across from his office, Steve had his head bowed, intently reading something, completely oblivious to his surroundings. And yet Mike sensed that every last set of eyes was on him as he slowly approached his partner, before resting a warm hand on his shoulder.
Strangely enough, the gesture startled the young Inspector so much that he jerked backward in his chair, sitting up straight like a student who'd been caught sleeping during a lecture. And considering the red-rimmed eyes staring back at him, maybe Mike wasn't so far off.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be resting.", the young Inspector complained, his voice hoarse and strained.
"And look what I come back to if I try.", Mike countered, keeping his hand on Steve's back, surprised to find the muscles below the expensive red dress shirt rigidly tight, "Besides, I can't stay home all day and have Jeanie feed me. I'd be three hundred pounds by the end of the week."
He could tell that Steve wasn't amused, as he stared back at him defiantly, yet too respectful to push the matter.
Instead, he swallowed his complaints and clenched his jaws.
"Let me know when you're settled in and I will get you some coffee."
It was then when Mike picked up on the strange quietness that had befallen the bullpen. He could practically sense the tension across the large office, as curious eyes stared up at him fleetingly, but quickly wandered back to their desks when he turned around to face the rest of the squad.
"It was a quiet night, I take it?", he then asked and walked into his office, carefully taking off his black overcoat and fedora, before hanging it on the nearby clothes rack.
"Yep…", Steve answered decidedly too fast and rearranged a few pieces of paper in his file, before heading toward the coffee table, "Regular cream or extra cream today?"
"Extra cream, please."
Carefully steering around his desk, Mike sat down and watched his partner intrigued, growing increasingly suspicious when Steve never made eye contact across the glass window.
Much to his surprise, there was a note from booking on top of his inbox. Reaching for the black rimmed reading glasses in his top drawer, Mike grabbed it, squinting, as he tried to make out the small letters.
Steve arrived with a fresh cup of coffee, carefully setting it down, ready to scurry out of the office, only to have Mike call him back.
"Would you look at that, Buddyboy! They said that Sergeant Andrews caught the four thugs last night, the ones that beat me up. They want me to come downstairs to make an ID. Wow, that was fast. Did you hear about that?"
Turning a shade paler, Steve managed a surprised gasp that was pitiful at best. Nervously itching a spot on his upper arm, he shrugged, then turned to head back to his desk.
"Well, I guess that solves that problem, eh? Now we can worry about our murder case."
With a warm smile, Mike got up from his desk, eyes focused on his partner, then the rest of the heads conveniently buried in paperwork, the bullpen so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"Seems kind of strange to me how one police officer managed to arrest all four suspects without any problems; or additional support for that matter. They certainly weren't of the…cooperative kind. Doyle better be getting a medal for a job well done, what do you say, Buddyboy?"
"We heard he's a hell of a cop.", Haseejian chimed in from his desk, an eagerly nodding Haley by his side.
"Yeah, he's gonna go far in the department, Lieutenant, I am sure of it."
"Right…", Mike answered hesitantly and glanced at each one of his men, seeing the same guarded neutrality in their faces, "Well then, I am going to head downstairs for a minute. When I get back, it's time to dig into our case a bit deeper, Buddyboy."