Thanks, everyone, for coming along on the ride. It's been fun for me - and I hope for you as well.

Madsen drew his right fist back, staring smugly into Mike's wide eyes. Under his left hand grip around the older man's neck, Madsen felt the cop stiffen in fear. He began to lean forward to throw the punch when cold metal slammed into his skull just behind his left ear and a deep voice hissed, "You so much as flinch and your brains will be all over this kitchen. Let him go."

Madsen froze then his gaze shifted to his left and from the corner of his eye he saw the face of Detective Sergeant Dan Healey.

"Do as he says," came another gravelly voice from his right, and Madsen didn't have to look to know it belonged to Sergeant Haseejian.

"Let go of him," Healey hissed again, and slowly Madsen opened his left hand and lowered his right arm. Healey glanced at Mike as Madsen's hand left his throat and the pillow hit the floor; the older man closed his eyes, the back of his head against the fridge, standing stock still.

Haseejian quickly holstered his .38, snagged the cuffs from his belt, stepped behind Madsen and, pulling his right arm behind his back, secured the cuff then reached for his left arm to do the same. Madsen didn't resist. Haseejian turned him and propelled him towards the living room. "In there," he growled, "and on your knees."

Healey stepped in front of Mike as he holstered his own gun and put his hands on the older man's upper arms. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

Mike opened his eyes and tried to look at Healey but he was having trouble focusing. Suddenly his eyes rolled back and he collapsed. Healey caught him as he fell and lowered him to the floor, grabbing the pillow and placing it under his head.

"Norm," Healey called into the living room, "toss me the blanket on the couch, now!"

Almost instantly Haseejian appeared in the doorway and handed Healey the blanket. "How's he doin'?" he asked anxiously.

Healey shook his head quickly. "I don't know. It doesn't look good."

"Should we call an ambulance?"

"No," came Mike's voice weakly from the floor and both sergeants turned in his direction. Mike's eyes were still closed. "No," he said again, "I'm okay."

Healey glanced up at his partner and shrugged. Haseejian disappeared back into the living room and, as Healey spread the blanket over his fallen colleague, he heard the front door being opened.

Steve charged up the outside steps and into the living room. "Have you got him?" he barked as he entered, his eyes falling on Madsen kneeling handcuffed in the centre of the room. He looked up at Haseejian, who nodded with concern towards the kitchen. "Mike!" Steve yelled as he sprinted the few feet into the kitchen and dropped to his knees beside Healey, staring at his partner lying under the blanket on the floor, eyes closed.

"Did he...?" Steve asked anxiously and Healey shook his head quickly.

"He didn't hit him, but I think he slammed him into the fridge and he did have his hand around his throat."

Steve swallowed hard then leaned over his partner. "Mike, can you hear me?"

Eyes remaining closed, Mike nodded slightly.

"Do you want me to call an ambulance?"

A head shake 'no'.

Steve glanced at Healey. Then he caught some movement under the blanket and Mike's hand appeared, groping in their direction. Steve grabbed his hand and squeezed, relieved to feel a strong grip returned.

"I just need to lie here for a bit," Mike said softly, "my heart's pounding…"

Steve and Healey exchanged a somewhat relieved look. Healey nodded and stood up, joining Haseejian in the living room. Steve sat more comfortably on the floor, Mike's hand in his lap, trying to quiet his own racing heart. He heard the siren of a squad car approach and die on the street outside his apartment, and seconds later the pounding of hard-soled shoes on the steps and people entering the living room. The bustle stayed in the other room; the kitchen remained a calm oasis.

Eventually the noise subsided, people exited and the front door was closed. Though he didn't see or hear them, Steve knew that Haseejian and Healey were still in the apartment, probably sitting on the couch, waiting and hoping.

After a while, Steve felt his hand being shaken and he looked down to see Mike staring at him. Steve leaned closer.

"You might want to start cleaning your kitchen floor more often – I think I'm lying in bread crumbs," Mike whispered with a smile,

In the living room, Haseejian and Healey heard Steve's laugh and looked at each other in relief.

# # # # #

Steve opened the front door to find an agitated Olsen standing on his stoop.

"Is he okay?" Olsen demanded as he brushed past Steve into the apartment. "And what the hell went wrong?" His eyes flicked around the room, nodding at the detectives who had stood upon his entrance. "Where is he?"

Steve had calmly closed the door and turned to face his superior, his hands outstretched in a pacifying gesture. "He's fine, Rudy. He's lying down upstairs in my bedroom, but he's okay. Don't worry."

Olsen exhaled loudly and visibly relaxed, nodding. He started to cross to the couch and Haseejian and Healey stepped aside to give him room. Tanner brought a chair in from the kitchen and gestured for Healey to take the armchair he'd been occupying as he sat on the kitchen chair.

"So what the hell happened?"

Haseejian glanced at his partner then leaned forward, elbows on knees. "Rudy, it went just like we anticipated. We knew it wasn't going to be easy and that this guy was a real loose cannon, but we were with Mike the entire time." Haseejian gestured at the coffee table and Olsen looked down to see the two portable tape recorders. "We had to wait till he said enough to incriminate himself. It went a little further than we had hoped it would, and Mike got a little roughed up, but we got what we needed."

"A little roughed up?" Olsen looked at Healey.

"Madsen threw him up against the fridge and put his hand around his throat," he said with a shrug, trying to counter the severity of the words with his upbeat tone.

Olsen eyebrows rose in alarm and Steve stepped in quickly. "Rudy, he's upstairs. Go up and see for yourself."

"I think I will," Olsen said angrily, getting to his feet and crossing to the stairs.

"I hope Mike's awake or we're not going to hear the end of this," said Tanner with a smile.

"I could use another coffee," said Lessing as he got to his feet and started for the kitchen. "Anyone else?"

# # # # #

Olsen rapped lightly on the door then pushed it open. The lights were off but there was enough sunlight streaming through the window to illuminate the room. He could see Mike lying on top of the bed, still fully clothed, his eyes closed.

At the sound of the door, Mike opened his eyes and looked over. Olsen entered quietly, closing the door behind him. "Mike?" he said softly, "it's Rudy. I just came to make sure you're okay."

Starting to smile, Mike started to push himself up.

"No, no, no," Olsen said quickly, crossing to the bed, "stay where you are. Don't get up." He put his hand lightly on Mike's shoulder and pushed him back down, Mike acquiescing easily. Olsen sat on the edge of bed and stared at his old friend for several long seconds. "Are you really okay?" he asked finally.

Mike grinned and nodded. "Yeah," he said slowly. "He was a little rougher on me than I'd hoped, but everything went just as we planned and we got him, Rudy."

"And whose idea was all of this?"

Mike looked away guiltily then chuckled, "Well, Dan had this feeling and I suggested –"

"Okay, you can stop there," Olsen interrupted. "I get the picture." He patted Mike's arm. "I'm just glad you're okay. Listen, I'm gonna leave you to get some rest…" He started to get up but Mike grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Rudy, hang on a minute. I want to talk to you about something."

# # # # #

Healey rubbed his hands over his face and started to stand. "Well, you Armenian nutbag," he began.

Haseejian looked at him with a "Hey!"

Healey chuckled and continued, "We better get downtown, we've got a hell of a lot of paperwork to get through before we get home tonight." He looked at the others soberly. "I don't know about you guys, but I am so glad this is finally over. I don't think I could take anymore."

All heads nodded, and Steve added dryly, "Tell me about it. And I'm really sure Mike's thrilled it's finally all over. As it is, it's gonna be quite awhile till he's back to work." He followed the others to the front door.

Lessing shook his head. "I still can't believe that little shit had the audacity to come here. I mean, what was he thinking? He could have just gotten on the plane to Ireland and we'd've never seen him again."

Haseejian snorted mirthlessly. "Family honor. It's a hell of a thing sometimes. And if you don't believe me, go to the library and look up 'Armenian genocide' and that'll give you some idea of the weight my family carries around."

Healey opened the front door, slapping Haseejian on the shoulder as his partner walked past and out onto the stoop.

Tanner glanced up the stairs. "I wonder what Mike and Rudy are doing up there?" he mused, and the others shrugged.

# # # # #

"Okay, so you know what Rudy said, if he sees you outside of this office at anytime during the day, except for going back and forth to the washroom, he's gonna kick you out of the building," Steve reminded his partner as he put one of the two coffee cups down on the desk.

Mike chuckled and picked up his cup. "I know, I know. I heard this lecture from everyone this morning." He tipped his chair back carefully. "You have no idea how good it feels to be here."

Steve smiled as he dropped into the second chair. "Yeah, I think I do." He sipped his coffee. "So, you settle in, and I'll get some of the files we've been working on lately and you can spend today catching up on what's been going on for the past six weeks. I have to go out with Bill; we're still working on that hooker murder from last week. But believe me, you'll have enough to keep you busy." He stood and crossed to the door, turning back with an upraised eyebrow. "Come to think of it, the crime rate seems to go up when you're not around. Coincidence? Hmmmm…"

"Very funny. Uh, wait a minute, what are you doing going out on the streets? I thought you were confined to the office too, until your nose healed completely?"

Steve shot him a long-suffering look. "Bill and I are interviewing an 84-year-old woman in her home. I think I'm pretty safe."

Mikes look of concern slowly morphed into a wry smile. "Well, just be careful of a wayward elbow when she hands you the teacup," he said with mock seriousness.

"Thanks for the heads up," Steve laughed as he crossed back to his desk.

Mike chuckled as he watched him go, then sat back and looked around his office with a smile. He tipped his chair forward again, put his cup down and was opening the top drawer to take out some pens and a pad when he heard a knock on his door.

Healey smiled. "Hey, Mike, ah, can I come in?" he asked almost formally.

"Of course, Dan," Mike answered with a smile and gestured towards the chair recently vacated by his partner. Healey entered and closed the door before taking the seat. "What's on your mind?"

Healey reached into his inside jacket pocket and removed a folded sheet of bond. He unfolded it and handed it to Mike without saying a word.

Frowning, Mike took the paper, fished his reading glasses out of his breast pocket and put them on and, with one last glance at Healey, started to read. When he finished, he looked at his sergeant overtop of the glasses, his expression unreadable. He slowly folded the paper. "Well, I have to admit, in all my years, I have never seen something like this. An apology and a commendation." He smiled slowly. "And I can't think of anyone who deserves it more." He handed the paper back to Healey and held out his hand. "Congratulations, Sergeant."

Standing, Healey took the paper back and shook his boss's hand. "Ah, thanks, Mike. I really wasn't expecting this. I owe a lot of this to you -"

"I hardly think so, Dan," Mike cut him off. "All I did was manage to get shot – twice." He shook his head in slightly embarrassment bewilderment. "In a month…" He chuckled quietly, muttering almost to himself, "That's gotta be some kind of record."

He looked back up at Healey and grinned. "No, you were the one with the most to lose and the most to gain from all this. And you performed brilliantly, Dan." He pointed to the letter still in Healey's hand. "That is deserved, and every word of it is true. I am very proud to have you in my squad."

Healey swallowed then smiled self-consciously. "Thanks, Mike. I appreciate that. And hey, I owe half of this," he held up the letter, "to that crazy Armenian. I think I'll take him out for dinner tonight."

"That's a great idea."

Healey crossed to the door, turning back as he opened it. "Thanks again, Mike. And welcome back."

As Healey walked by, Steve got up from his desk, a pile of files in his hand and crossed into his partner's office. "What was that all about?"

Mike looked up at him and smiled. "That was about a great police officer finally getting his due. So, what do you have for me?"