"Where's my son?!" Garrity spat out again as he and Mike stared at one another, neither man moving.

Steve's eyes snapped quickly to Tanner and Lessing, as all three tensed, knowing that any second they might have to intervene. The standoff continued.

Very slowly, a slight smile played over Mike's lips. "You mean Patrolman Madsen? The son who was so ashamed of his father that wouldn't even take his name?"

"Why you sonofa –" With clenched fists, Garrity took a quick step towards Mike then stopped himself. The three inspectors had started to move then caught themselves and held their ground.

Mike didn't flinch, but his taunting smile slowly disappeared. "Do you have something you want to say to me?"

"I have nothing to say to you," Garrity growled, but his eyes flicked away briefly, and Mike knew he was starting to back down.

Mike waited, his eyes never leaving Garrity's face. "I think you do." Then, without looking at the others, asked, "Fellas, could you give us the room?"

Steve glanced at Lessing and Tanner and nodded slightly. The young inspector at the corner desk, who had scrambled to his feet then froze when all this started, joined his colleagues as they headed for the door. Steve was the last out, and he briefly touched Mike's arm as he walked past his partner towards the door. With a final look back at the two older men staring at each other in the centre of the room, he closed the door.

The silence lengthened then Garrity cocked his head and smiled slightly, looking at Mike through cold, dead eyes. "You always thought you were better than me," he hissed.

"And you always thought you could beat a confession out of a suspect," Mike countered quietly.

"I was a better cop than you were or ever will be."

"Yeah? Whose name is on the door?" Mike thrust his chin slightly forward and Garrity turned his head, glancing at the glass door of the inner office.

Garrity looked back at him, determined defiance shining from his eyes. "Well, you always knew the right butts to kiss, candy-ass."

Mike snorted mirthlessly. "What are you doing here, Garrity? There's nothing you can do for your son now, he's dug his own grave."

"I have no idea what you're talking about. My boy didn't do anything."

"Go ahead, keep telling yourself that. What did you do, tell him year after year about how you got screwed by the department, by me? That you were framed? That the reason you turned into a drunk was because everyone had it in for you –"

"You bastard!" Garrity shouted and started towards Mike, fists up. Mike flinched almost imperceptibly but stood his ground, keeping his hands open and down at his sides. They stood eye to eye for several long seconds, neither breathing. Eventually Garrity relaxed and lowered his fists then, with a vicious sneer, took a couple of steps back and half-turned away. "I have no idea what my boy did, but whatever it was, I'll back him up a hundred percent. He was just standing up for his papa, and no-one can tell me he was wrong for doin' that."

Relaxing only slightly, Mike's unblinking eyes followed the other man as he moved away to lean against Steve's desk. "So you're saying you have no idea what your son did?"

Garrity smiled. "That's what I'm saying, and I dare you to prove otherwise, Lieu-ten-ant," he dragged the title out sarcastically.

Mike took a step forward and Garrity tensed. "You better be telling me the truth, because once we have your son behind bars – and you know just how much cons love having a disgraced cop in their midst – then we're coming after you."

Garrity's smug façade crumbled slightly and Mike knew he had struck a nerve. "Yeah, well, good luck on both counts there, Lieu-ten-ant."

"I don't need luck."

Garrity, who had been staring down at Steve's desk, running his fingers along the edge, looked up directly and defiantly into Mike's eyes. "Oh, you're gonna need more than that. Think about it, how many of your colleagues are gonna trust you anymore?"

When Mike didn't say anything, Garrity smiled slightly and stood a little straighter.

"I know what's going on, I listen. I know there's talk going around about how you shot an unarmed man. I know you're gonna get off, they won't charge you for that – you're a lieu-ten-ant after all, the great Mike Stone, you're above reproach," he snarled sarcastically.

"But isn't there something in the back of your mind now, a little niggling self-doubt that says to you, yeah, maybe they were right, maybe the guy was unarmed and I was wrong.

"So, maybe the next time you're out on the street with your partner, and you gotta maybe shoot somebody to save your life, or his, and that little niggling doubt starts talking to you again…" Garrity paused, shrugging. "You're gonna…what? Hesitate? Make sure the guy really is armed before you shoot him? Risk getting your partner killed?" Garrity's questioning expression turned slowly into a rictus grin and he began to chuckle.

Mike's stare had begun to turn inward as Garrity went on, and now, as the other man strolled casually past him towards the door, he swallowed hard and turned slowly. As Garrity put his hand on the doorknob, Mike said quietly, "You're a sad, pathetic little man, Garrity. You always have been. And so is your son."

Garrity's smile got larger as he turned the knob and opened the door. "Best of luck with what's left of yourcareer there, Lieu-ten-ant," he sneered, then casually strolled out the door, past the inspectors who were waiting anxiously in the hallway.

They watched him go, then re-entered the homicide office, glancing at Mike as they went to their desks. Steve stopped beside his partner and studied his unreadable face before asking quietly, "Are you okay?"

Mike seemed to shake himself back to the present, looked at Steve and smiled slightly. "Yeah. Ah, let's get our stuff and go home." He strode towards his office.

# # # # #

The drive back to the De Haro house was made in silence. Steve had taken the key from Mike, telling him he was cleared to drive now and, he had to admit, it felt good to be behind the wheel of his beloved Porsche again. But he was worried about his partner. Mike hadn't said two words to him since they left the office, and Steve knew the encounter with Garrity had not gone exactly the way he'd hoped. But try as he might, he could not figure out what the irate ex-cop could have said that would have upset Mike so much.

Mike had made chili earlier in the day and the smell from the crockpot was wonderfully inviting when Steve opened the front door. The sun was setting, and Mike stayed out on the stoop, sitting on the top step, watching it. A minute later, Steve came out with two beers, handed one to his partner then sat beside him. After several silent moments, he glanced at Mike and asked quietly, "Anything you feel like talking about?"

With a quiet chuckle, Mike looked down then up to meet the younger man's eyes. He took a deep breath then let it out loudly. He began to speak, stopped, took another breath then said softly, "Steve, I'm thinking of pulling the pin."

This was so unexpected that younger man froze in mid-motion. "What? Wait a minute, what…? Where the hell did this come from?" He was staring at Mike's profile, trying to get his thoughts together, trying not to yell.

Still looking forward, Mike smiled slightly, warmly. "I've been thinking about it for awhile now," he whispered, "and I think it's time. Maybe past time."

"Mike, no…what? What the hell are you talking about…?" Steve paused, realizing he was gasping for air as much as he was grasping for words. "Wait a minute, is this because of something Garrity said to you? It is, isn't it?" When Mike didn't respond, he continued, "Come on, Mike, tell me – what did the bastard say to you?"

Mike turned to him slowly, love and gratitude writ large across his face. "It doesn't matter what he said, Steve," he said softly, "it only matters what I think and how I feel. And I feel that the time has come for me to take that offer they keep making me – make the move upstairs, get off the streets or retire with a full pension."

"No, no, no – you're not gonna just walk away from this job that I know you love so much, you're not just gonna walk away from…from me," Steve's voice cracked slightly and he cleared his throat. "We're gonna talk about this. I'm not going to let you leave without a fight, you have to know that, right?"

"Steve, I've made my mind up –"

"Then I'm gonna change it!" Steve's vehemence made Mike chuckle and he bit his lip and looked away. Steve took his own deep breath, calming himself down. He took a long pull from his beer before beginning again, his tone more soothing and composed. "Mike, one of the things I've always been able to count on in our partnership has been our honesty with each other, our ability to be able to say anything without the risk of… prejudgment or ridicule, for lack of better words.

"And something's telling me that this is one of those moments, that I need you right now to be absolutely honest with me and tell me what's really going on, because I don't believe for a moment that you've just suddenly decided to retire. It just doesn't make sense to me and I'm not going to accept it without a better explanation."

Mike had been staring at the step while the younger man talked, and spontaneous tears had appeared in his eyes. He took a deep unsteady breath and cleared his throat. Then, nodding slowly, he turned to face his young friend. "You're right, I owe you the truth. I'm sorry. I, ah, I was just thinking about myself." Steve opened his mouth to say something but Mike stopped him with a gesture.

Mike took another deep breath and looked away, but he began to speak softly, with a slight nod. "You're right, it was something Garrity said to me. But he just said it out loud – it's actually something I've been thinking about for awhile now." He paused then looked up at his partner. "Steve, I'm afraid that when I get back out on the street again, and we get into a situation where I might have to use my gun again, that because of what happened with Pettet…well, that I might hesitate if I think the suspect is unarmed. And that might mean that me, or god forbid you, could pay the price for that hesitation… I don't care about myself, but I can't put that burden on you, I can't saddle you with a partner who could get you killed… and that would be me."

Steve had listened in silence, his heart starting to break the more Mike talked. When the older man had finished, they sat quietly for several seconds, then Steve began to smile and he reached out and put his arm around Mike's shoulders. "Is that all it is?" he asked with a chuckle.

Startled, Mike twisted his head to look into his partner's laughing face, pulling away slightly. "Is that all it is?" he echoed incredulously.

Steve squeezed Mike tighter, still chuckling and shaking his head. "Michael, if you think I have one iota of doubt about you as a partner, then maybe we should break up, because I want you to know," his tone started to turn serious, "that I could never find another person that I would trust more with my life, in any situation, at any time, than you. I don't know anyone with your skill, your strength and your decency, and there is no one on earth that I want more as my partner than you."

Mike was staring at him evenly, and Steve knew he was trying not to cry. Smiling warmly, Steve gave Mike's shoulders one more squeeze. "That chili smells pretty damn good, don't you think? I don't know about you, but I'm hungry. Come on." He got to his feet and quickly entered the house.

Inhaling the cool night air deeply, Mike stayed where he was and closed his eyes. He had never felt so loved. With a happy sigh and a self-conscious smile, he slowly stood and followed his partner into the house.