"No fingerprints on the weapon unfortunately."
With his eyes glued to the lab report, Steve clenched his jaws in unmasked frustration, then let out a deep breath.
The morning hadn't yielded a single piece of new evidence, and Marietti was still at large, the APB unsuccessful thus far.
"Well, I can't say that surprises me. Our killer probably wore gloves."
Sitting on the edge of Steve's desk, Mike held a hand in front of his mouth, a nervous gesture he hoped would help him think clearer in a case where all their leads were quickly drying up, leaving them with hardly any clues left to follow.
As he gave up the struggle against the countless lines of scientific text the lab crew had blessed them with; Steve in return leaned back in his chair, one hand absent-mindedly running over the bruise on the back of his head, before glancing up at his partner.
"So what are we going to do next?"
"We?...You are going to take it easy. I might head out and beat the bushes a bit."
"Aw, come on Mike. I am fine. We've been through this before."
"Forty-eight hours.", the Lieutenant reiterated sternly, his usually cheerful eyes growing serious almost instantly, "That's what the paramedic said. You took a good hit to the head and you're still not quite back to being yourself. The only reason I let you come to work with me was…well…so that you can get started on the report for this case. Right here. In the safety of the office."
Shaking his head, Steve gave him an all-knowing grin.
"So that I can work on that report, eh? Well that's very generous of you, Lieutenant. Now tell me something, great leader, how is it that you force me to listen to medical advice, and here you are, just a few days after nearly getting beaten to death, acting like nothing ever happened?"
"Well you see, that's the nice thing about getting older. You don't have to listen to too many people. They typically leave you alone because they're scared of you. Besides, this time around I feel like I am bouncing back a lot faster from those few bruises than you young folks would."
Sensing a definite change in attitude, Steve's smile grew wider, his curious green eyes studying his partner intently.
"Us young folks? That's a new one. What are you going to do next? Call us young folks radicals for trying to get a vacation day in every six months? Trying to get an hour of sleep in every three days or so? I ought to call Jeanie and tell her what you've been up to and how cruelly you've been treating us here."
"You're going to be on top of her list of people to fuss over if you as much as think about doing that, Smiley. Trying to get an hour of sleep in every three days or so, he says. You spent the past twelve hours on my couch sleeping like a log. I know that, because I made sure of it."
Ending his speech with a warm smile, Mike patted his partner's cheek affectionately, before getting off the desk.
"Come on, let's grab some coffee and go over this case beginning to end one more time."