March 28th, Steve's place

As Steve had predicted his Aunt Mathilde was overjoyed to have an extra person to feed. Her joy reached new heights when she realised that the nice young man spoke some German and she started jabbering away happily. With a sigh she said. "Oh, to think that my little pet here never learned any German! I know his father and uncle never spoke the language and I really blame my brother." She prattled on. "I tried get the little one interested in German and brought him storybooks, but somehow he didn't seem to like them."

Mike threw a glance at Steve and saw him grow pale, so he decided to steer the conversation away from the painful subject of the childhood trauma, as soon as he could get a word in edgeways.

"And such a nice haircut!" she remarked next, without stopping for breath, looking Ed up and down. "And the lovely suit and tie! You must tell me where you shop for your clothes, I think Stevie could do with some new suits, he really needs a woman's touch." She leaned closer to Ed. "Would you mind bringing the boy with you the next time you go to the Barber's? He desperately needs a haircut!"

Steve looked at Mike dolefully and the older man really felt sorry for him.

"Sure, Mattie, sure, but where is the food you promised us, we are starving!" Mike interrupted the flow of Mathilde's plans for Steve's makeover.

The old lady beamed with delight. "That's what I like to hear. My little man here eats like a sparrow!" she pinched Steve's cheek on her way to the small kitchen.

Steve rolled his eyes and muttered under his breath. "I bet you a sparrow wouldn't even peck at the blasted cabbage." Then he brightened up a bit. "Actually, tonight shouldn't be too bad, I asked her for my favourite dish, goulash and dumplings, it is quite edible." His eyes widened with horror when he saw his aunt with a big salad bowl.

"Here is some Sauerkraut salad to start with; it's full of vitamins and minerals and really tasty!"

She ladled big portions on everybody's plates. Mike began feeling really sorry for Steve now and scraped most of the salad off the horrified young man's plate onto his own when the aunt wasn't looking. Mike found the salad very tasty indeed and Ed was digging into the pickled cabbage with apple and carrots in a sweet and sour dressing with good appetite. Only Steve turned up his nose and pushed the salad around his plate, willing it to disappear by magic.

Things didn't look up for him when Mathilde served the main course. A big dish heaped with bread dumplings and a tureen of a meaty stew- with cabbage. Steve's face fell. "But, I thought you were going to make goulash!" He couldn't hide his disappointment.

"It is goulash, but Szegediner Goulash, with Sauerkraut. You know, when I went shopping with Mike the only proper Kraut we could get came in a small barrel. Sauerkraut is good for you, mein Stiefelchen!" she explained.

Ed almost choked on a piece of dumpling and starting coughing violently to fight back the fit of laughter that rose from deep within his belly. Did Steve know…? Obviously, judging by the pained expression on his face. But Mike? He excused himself and rushed to the bathroom, where he hid his face in a towel to silence his laugh. He felt a hand on his shoulder.

"When you are done laughing, my friend, you'd better tell me the meaning of this Stevelken business." Mike's voice sounded silken, but there was a steely edge in it.

"Oh no, Mike, I couldn't. I'm sure Steve would tell you if he wanted to share it with you …" Ed defended his position.

"Sometimes people are not willing to share, as you should well know, soldier." The voice was definitely menacing now. "Or would you like to share your feelings for Eve Whitfield with the Chief? Or want me to do it for you?"

Ed looked at him horrified. "You wouldn't, would you?"

"Try me. But the easier way is to give!"

Ed sighed and gave it some consideration. "Why don't you ask your pal Mattie?" he stalled.

"Nah, that would be too easy and too embarrassing for Steve!"

"Okay so. Stiefelchen is the diminutive of Stiefel- boot…"

"Bootee! She probably knitted his first bootees, too!" Mike almost doubled over with suppressed laughter, but tried to regain his composure. "Come on, soldier, we have to go back in, there is goulash to be eaten and Steve might need rescuing!"

Once again Mike and Ed devoured the tasty stew and dumplings with enjoyment. Steve ate some of the dumplings that his aunt had heaped onto his plate and picked out the pieces of meat. The strands of cabbage he tried to hide under the uneaten dumplings.

"Here, Steve, take your friend as an example! He cleared his plate like a good boy and is having seconds!" Mathilde chided.

"Oh, Mattie, don't mind the boy, he is not used to such delicacies. This reminds me of a dish our Polish neighbours uses to make." So Mike and Mattie launched into a discussion about the merits of various ethnic dishes. This gave Ed a chance to finish his second portion in peace- and some of Steve's…

After Mathilde had disappeared in the kitchen to organise coffee and dessert Steve looked at Mike accusingly. "It's your fault; you let her buy a vat of Sauerkraut."

"Don't exaggerate now, Buddy boy, it's a small little barrel and there is no harm in throwing the rest out."

"You don't know her, Mike." Steve wailed. "She will never throw food out, least of all cabbage."

Ed thoroughly enjoyed the evening, home cooked food that was not Chili, a chance to finish a meal in peace and the company of the old lady, as long as she was not his aunt…

Aunt Mathilde returned with a big, moist looking chocolate cake and a bowl of whipped cream. "Steve has always liked a nice piece of cake, isn't that right?" she beamed and started dishing out big wedges of cake.

Mike took a mouthful and savoured it. Helen, his late wife had been great at baking and his daughter Jeannie had inherited her talent so he knew his cakes and this cake was delicious! Even Steve started on his wedge without putting up a fight.

"Now Mattie, this cake is fantastic! Would you be willing to share she recipe with my daughter?"

The old lady smiled proudly. "I certainly will! You could never get the same effect without the secret ingredient." She smiled angelically. "You won't believe it, but it's chopped Sauerkraut!"

Steve spluttered and jumped up, heading for the bathroom fast.

His plate slipped over the edge of the table and the remainder of his cake was spilled over Ed Brown's formerly neat and tidy pants. Only his good manners kept the sergeant back from uttering a sharp reply.

Mathilde noticed it with shock. "Oh, Steve, what are you doing! Mr. Brown – don't worry, I will clean your trousers for you! Luckily I have your other pair here. There was not much damage." She came back, and her face suddenly reddened. "But well, I thought... When I saw how long they were I thought that they had to be shortened as well as patched. I never imagined that anybody could have such long legs..."

In contrast to her Ed paled. The way his pants looked now they would end four inches above his ankles. His admiration for aunt Mathilde cooled as much as his sympathy for Steve rose.

Mike had to suppress a smirk. In the department, the sergeant was known for his too-short trousers anyway. "You see, sergeant," he said, "when Mattie here and I were young" – Ed's and Steve's faces both expressed their doubt about them having been young at the same time, since Mathilde had to be at least twenty years older – "we had this English fashion: Knickerbockers. They were quite handsome..."

The phone spared Mike of digging himself in deeper.

It was Rudy. "Steve, is Mike with you?"

Mike quickly swallowed his last bite and took the receiver.

"Mike, we have a lead in the serial murder in Mission. We suspect a pimp to have killed the young men and the prostitutes, probably a man from Tennessee. He may even have brought in some girls from there who work for him. What about sending Steve and Ed Brown out to flirt with some of the ladies? They would belong to the same age group as the victims. I suppose the girls would be inclined to talk to them since they both look rather innocent. Just tell them to be careful."

Mike was less than thrilled. What if the culprit found out that they were cops? They looked innocent all right, but maybe a little too innocent...

Steve saw a chance to escape the dreadful situation he was in. Of course he would do his duty!

Ed had already stood up. His boss always wanted things done yesterday at the latest; therefore he was used to obey orders immediately, no matter where they came from. "Madam, this was the largest meal I had in about a year." It was the truth, since he usually didn't get to finish his plate. "Thank you very much! Steve's a lucky man to have such a caring relative."

Streets of San Francisco

Steve's Porsche took them to Mission district in no time, although they had to stop at Ed's for him to change his pants. Together they left the car and walked into the infamous area, trying to look like two guys out for an adventure.

"Steve, before your time we had a case around the Cockatoo bar. I'm not quite sure if we got everyone who was involved. The Chief always expected more trouble from there. Let's take it from there."

They joked with some of the girls who were waiting at the border of the road – Steve with his quick tongue beating the serious Sergeant most of the time. Instead Ed did the listening. Ironside had trained him well at paying heed to the nuances in someone's words.

Steve had a somewhat bad conscience. He was not very familiar with the serial murder. He'd just been keen on getting away from aunt Mathilde. Usually he was better prepared for his jobs. "Say, Ed – how do you think we can distinguish one pimp from the other?"

A grin went over the taller man's face, but he didn't look very happy. "When we stumble into some action we'll know that we have stirred up something. That's the way it usually happens to me..."

Like on clue a group of men came running out of the next road. Instinctively Ed tried to protect Steve with his taller frame. "Hey, I'm not Eve Whitfield! Let's do this together!" protested Steve.

Back to back they faced the gang. They had blackjacks and knifes. Ed bit his lip. This would be a tough one. Steve felt that they had stumbled into something all right. Aunt Mathilde suddenly didn't seem so daunting anymore.

The ring about them tightened, and the first blows hit home.

The two detectives worked well together though, and for a time Steve hoped that they might be able to resist the superiority in numbers.

But then something hit his head. He cried out and went down heavily. He didn't pass out, but everything seemed to happen behind a wall of cotton wool now. His head felt as if it would explode any moment. He couldn't hear anything, but he saw the Sergeant behind that wall of fog fighting like a tiger. He tried to keep the men away from him, but still some boots collided with Steve's helpless body.

The last thing Steve realized was his friend stumbling and a sudden ear-deafening noise. Then everything went black.

Author Mounty's note:
Those who know what a bad cook I am will realize that most of this chapter was written by Briroch ;-)