I do not own anything to do with SOSF; writing is strictly for fun and development!

Thanks to all who have left a review on these little ficlets.

This one is the result of a writer's challenge. You'll see the wonderful Tanith's "Last Resort" has the same few paragraphs and mention of a red wig!

This story is set 2 years before the series began, not long after a young Steve began working for Mike.

Last Night Was Such a Drag

San Francisco Police Department, 1970

A sense of relief poured over Lt. Mike Stone, as he looked up from his desk and saw his partner walk through the door. The twenty-five year old's stride showed that he was both celebratory and relieved to be back in the familiar confines of the Bureau of Inspectors office. His overnight undercover stint with Vice was short and successful. They had caught their man.

In Steve Keller's hand was a medium sized brown paper bag. He boldly approached Mike's office ready to accept the teasing he knew was coming. Arriving as early as he did, he was grateful that no one else was in the office at that early hour.

"Welcome back, Buddy boy. Good job on the assignment. I heard from Captain Miller that your work was exemplary," Mike greeted appropriately.

"Well, I'm just glad it's over. I can't believe what they had me do," he blushed at the thought. His tone quickly changed to accusatory: "Clearly you knew about it."

"Of course. Thankfully, our current caseload was light and Vice needed some assistance. Besides, this is the type of situation that eventually escalates to a murder. Two of those streetwalkers were attacked and beaten viciously," Mike defended. "How did you get along with the ladies anyway?"

"Carol and Brenda? They were great. I know they're cops, but they sure were believable as hookers."

"Did they show you the ropes?" Mike asked as seriously as he could.

Steve fought the urge to roll his eyes. Here it comes, he wouldn't give Mike the satisfaction of being anything other than good natured. "Oh, they showed me quite a bit, but nothing to do with ropes. Carol had some chains, though."

"When I say 'show you the ropes' it had nothing to do with that. I just meant did they help you look, well, you know, the part."

Steve feigned ignorance. "Ah, I understand. Seriously, they did show me how to strut my stuff and to attract 'business'," Steve said as he rested his hands on his hips. "And that brings me to the one simple question I want to ask you: 'Why?'"

"Why what?"

"Why was I picked to go undercover as a call girl? Those two ladies were more than capable of handling any pervert or deviant coming their way. They didn't need any male assistance in drag."

"I'd rather be too cautious than not. Besides, you don't know how far that guy would have gone. Lenny said the suspect's profile suggested the attacks wouldn't end until someone was killed." Mike advised. "While those ladies are well trained, they are not at the level where I'd want them fighting off a potential killer by themselves."

"Uh-huh," Steve responded without a shred of faith in what his partner had just said.

"On top of that, I understand you made a, ahem, stunning woman." Mike envisioned what he'd been told by Captain Miller. Steve was on a street corner along with two undercover female officers posing as hookers. He was dressed in a stylish wig, a blue sequenced cocktail dress and low heels. "Let me guess, a brunette?"

"Redhead."

"No." The thought of Steve in a red wig genuinely trying to pass himself off as a woman was more than Mike could imagine.

"Yes." Steve added, "But in fairness, it was an auburn shade."

"You must have been a regular Rita Hayworth. Haseejian said…" Mike began, knowing full well that he was going to get a rise out of his partner.

Steve's voice jumped an octave. "Oh yes, let's talk about Haseejian. Whose bright idea was it to send him in as our pimp?"

"He had the suit."

"He had a zoot suit and a wide rimmed hat. What was that about? All he needed was a pocket watch on a gold chain."

"He had to keep tabs on you…ladies."

Steve sighed. It was an important assignment, but he still felt like the older officers took advantage of his slight frame and youthful features. Steve shifted the conversation to the case. "At any rate, we got our man. He fit our witness's description to a tee. Even had that tic they described. It was like he wanted to be caught."

"It happens sometimes. Who'd he pick up?"

"Brenda. She was a blonde and that fit the description of the other victims." Steve realized now that they had sent in Brenda, their best officer, as a blonde for a reason. "She took him back to the room we had at that seedy hotel. Norm, Carol and I went into the next room and listened in. He actually started to get rough with her. After she confronted him, he admitted to the attacks. We busted in and made the arrest before he could hurt her."

"Open and shut." Mike agreed.

"Let's hope. At any rate, I came in to finish my part of the paperwork."

"You didn't do it last night after the arrest?"

"Well, Brenda and Norm did. Carol and I stayed behind to help wrap up the crime scene investigation."

"And…" Mike could tell that there was more to this story.

The wheels in Steve's head began to spin resulting in a pronounced gleam in his eye. "And then Carol and I decided to go out for the evening."

Mike shook his head in disbelief. "You had a date? Did you at least go home and change clothes?"

Steve remained silent.

"What?" Mike looked at his protégé in disbelief. "You went out in drag?"

"I was respectable. We went to a bar. The Wicked Kitty."

"The Wicked Kitty? I've heard of that place. It's over in the Castro. Hey, that's a bar for women only. It's one of those…" Mike choked.

"Yeah," Steve laughed. "For my next life, I want to come back as a lesbian."

Mike was mildly irritated, greatly taken aback and totally intrigued. "Is Carol...um...one of those…?"

"No, and there'd be nothing wrong with that if she were." He continued to speak over Mike's harrumph. "But the fact was, she wanted to go just for fun. You know, people do things for fun sometimes."

"And you consider going to a gay bar in drag 'fun'? Buddy boy, I thought I knew you."

"I did it for Carol. She's a super girl. It was kind of a fantasy for her. I'm not the kind of guy to kiss and tell, but afterward, we went back to my place and…"

"Stop. Stop. Stop. I don't want to hear anymore," Mike protested.

"Chicks dig guys in drag. She was all over me. You know, I always thought chicks dug Norm. Imagine his action if he were in drag…" Steve had in his mind to continue rambling until he drove Mike crazy with mental images. It didn't take long.

"Steve, I mean it. I don't want to hear anymore." The senior detective raised his hands in protest.

"Okay, okay," Steve grinned. "But we got you something. Next to the bar, there was this shop. Wigs, for every occasion. In case you ever want to go barhopping in drag."

"Buddy boy, you are cruising for a bruising." Mike interrupted.

"Here, try it on." Steve pulled it out of the paper bag and swung it back and forth in front of Mike's face before dropping it on his desk.

"No, no and no," Mike stated firmly though his eyes never left his paperwork.

"Oh, come on, Mike! Where's your sense of fun?" Steve quipped with an exaggerated whine in his tone.

Mike stopped and saw that the wig was oddly familiar to him. That fast food clown in the yellow suit and striped socks, he thought. Beginning to realize that he was pranked by his partner, he played along.

"My sense of fun? It went away when my sense of maturity kicked in," Mike replied with a wink as he tapped his temple for emphasis before returning his eyes to the top of his desk where his paperwork sat waiting to be completed.

"You mean, when you got old," Steve said slowly in a quiet voice. A sly grin spread across his face as he waited for Mike to respond.

Mike's head snapped back up at once and he glared at his partner through his glasses that threatened to shoot laser beams at the young man leaning over the front of his desk.

"Older. That's what I meant," Steve feebly tried to mask the damage but it was clearly too late and he found himself dashing out of the office quicker than it took for the object hurled at him to hit the back of the door.

"Older, huh?" Mike shook his head then chuckled before sliding out of his seat. He walked toward the door then bent down and picked up the curly bright flame red wig off the floor.

He laughed out loud and started to put it on his head, just for a quick moment for Steve's amusement. "You really had me going there, Buddy boy. What did you do, really - head home after the arrest?"

Now sitting at his desk, Steve replied, "As fast as I could. My feet were killing me. Carol, Brenda, Norm and I met for a drink later. It wasn't The Wicked Kitty, but it was in that area." Steve couldn't help but laugh at the clown's wig now resting crookedly on Mike's head.

He stopped when he heard the door open behind him.

"What the devil is going on here?" Captain Rudy Olsen barked. Mike's boss turned around and left the room. "I don't want to know," he could be heard mumbling as the door shut behind him.

Mike quickly shed the wig and threw it at his partner, who at this point was bent over laughing uncontrollably.