The days following the dramatic rescue flew by in an impermeable fog as Steve spent his time recovering from the stressful ordeal, his partner doing the same for once as Mike awaited the last blood test to clear him of any drug residue and return to full duty.

Thanks to Daley's generous injections, Steve would be out on sick leave for a few extra days, the department on high alert when it came to drug exposure after Mike's harrowing experience.

Mike.

It almost seemed as though a cloak of vagueness had been draped over the whole situation involving IA, Olson's direct interaction with the case and several phone calls to the Chief while the Lieutenant was busy riding the fine line of being on administrative leave and narrowing down their suspect.

And Steve couldn't be happier about that aspect.

One thing had been painfully obvious though; the aftermath of this case could still be felt reverberating through every aspect of their professional and private lives, whether it included the trips to doctor's office for blood draws or the uncomfortable remainders of the IA paperwork that Mike had to deal with.

As far as their partnership was concerned, there wasn't any damage to reconcile.

Even though dealing with the Lieutenant's behavior these past few days had been anything but pleasant; it was now understandable that the drugs in his system were to blame and that Mike felt horrible about the situation.

Truth be told, after listening to the frightening list of reasons for the Lieutenant's out-of-character behavior from Lenny earlier in the week, temporary, drug induced mania was probably the best outcome for all of them.

A knock on his door pulled Steve out of his daydreams and he put his book down, woefully realizing he never even started reading before his mind drifted off. Then, with a smile on his face, he got off the couch, looking forward to the company he was expecting.

"Well, good afternoon, Lieutenant.", he said cheerfully and opened the door to let his partner in, feeling utter relief upon seeing Mike's relaxed features, a sorely missed sight for the past few days.

"Good afternoon to you as well, Buddy Boy.", Mike greeted and dropped a bag of to-go food on his entrance table before heading for the clothes rack, "I thought I'd bring over some early dinner. How are you feeling? Is the nausea getting any better yet?"

Nausea.

There was the one thing that had been his daily companion since the end of his capture. Thankfully, most of the aftereffects of the strong psychotic drugs were finally wearing off, making room for his mind to clear and his body to recover.

As far as the strange dreams were concerned, that was a whole different story.

For the first time since he walked through the doors of the homicide bullpen, Steve had agreed to talk to Lenny. Just a few sessions, that's what they were going to keep it at- or so they initially agreed.

The goal was to make sure that in his dangerous quest to gather as much information about the police force as possible, that Daley hadn't created other problems; programming, false memories, anything that could cause issues or slow down the investigation or any situation going forward.

It had felt strange at first, but Steve had to admit that the more they talked, the more he grew to appreciate the seasoned psychiatrist's insights.

"Almost back to normal.", he finally replied and made room for Mike to hang up his coat and fedora and join him in the living room, "How are things in the office? Have you heard anything? Any more headway on finding out about Daley's motive? What he was targeting?"

"Officially? No…"

With a sad smile, Mike circled the small dining room table before sitting down on the couch, hands clasped in his lap, waiting for his partner to join him in the reclining chair across the room.

"Unofficially, I have a few guesses."

"Like what?", Steve countered, not liking the undercurrent in the Lieutenant's tone of voice.

"Daley was a loner, a genius, a kid who grew up in a broken family. Everyone who knew him considered him to be extremely smart but socially awkward."

As Mike continued on, he reached for a handful of grapes out of the bowl on his table before proceeding.

"So, I was asking myself what could have happened to turn this young man into the psychopath he ended up becoming. Let's say I went for a walk and suddenly found myself on his campus, talked to some people that were in his classes and I believe I may have found a possible scenario."

"Oh? That was quite a walk for you to get lost on, Lieutenant. Those few days of being off starting to wear on you?"

"Me? Hardly. Let's just say I started out at the local bakery to get some sinkers and then took a few left turns…", Mike countered facetiously and leaned back against the couch, "These grapes are great by the way. At any rate, I found several students who remembered him from his freshman year and recalled seeing him trying to hook up with a girl named Sally."

"It's always the girl, isn't it?", Steve countered and helped himself to some grapes as well.

"Mhm hm. She wasn't interested though. And halfway through the semester she switched to police academy and finished in the upper tier of her class. She works for patrols right now as a probie but word has it she is aiming for our floor…"

"Let me guess…so Daley put on this whole charade hoping to draw her in? That's some weird courtship if you ask me."

"It might be even more than that. If you compare Sally's facial features to that of his mother, you'd swear they are twins. It could be that the divorce of his parents scarred him in a way that he was looking for symbolisms of his mother everywhere. You know that's not my forte, you'll have to talk to Murchison about that one. I do know for fact that it makes a lot of sense how he was driving around town with you, forming the letter "S", knowing that we would trace him and see his…his artwork."

Unable to disguise a shudder, Steve nodded, waiting for his partner to continue.

"I just think that he wanted to draw her in, see if he could impress her perhaps, make her reconsider him as a mate. But she never became involved in the case. Instead, you entered his realm, making him shift his focus. If he couldn't have Sally the cop become his girlfriend, maybe all he needed to do was become a cop himself."

With his brows furrowed, Steve fell quiet for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't know. I mean, I get the mother complex but this whole courtship thing seems odd. He wasn't playing around. He'd already killed a homeless man, he was about to do the same to me when he was cornered. Everything he did surrounding this case was very calculated, planned out, well-practiced. Those aren't the actions of a love-sick man trying to win over a woman's heart. I still say he was setting up for something bigger, far worse, far bloodier."

"Now you're getting there.", Mike praised and smiled warmly, causing him to hesitate.

"Wait…what do you mean? What do you know that I don't know?"

"Nothing. Well, not nothing, just a little bit of information here, some deductive logic, but I wanted to see how you had him read before presenting my last piece of evidence, inspector."

With a cheeky smile, Steve shook his head and glanced down for a moment, so grateful to have his partner back by his side, minus the terrifying mood swings.

"Okay, Kemosabe, what is it that you found out besides all the campus trivia?"

"I went through the yellow notepad one more time."

That one.

The sheer mentioning caused a sting in his heart and Steve swallowed the unease that instantly threatened to surface, drowning it beneath a half-hearted chuckle.

"I can't imagine that's an easy read."

"No, no it wasn't.", Mike added somberly, those caring blue eyes scanning his partner intently, "But funny enough, I stopped reading it and began to read between the lines...literally. It had little footnotes to a reference that didn't make sense at first, words like window and left door and second floor and ante room. But then it suddenly all made sense. Do you remember your last day on probation, the ceremony of officially becoming a cop?"

It hit Steve all at once, causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"He was going to do a shootout at the Police headquarters in downtown in the middle of the introductory ceremony? In a room full of cops?"

"What better decoy than to be just another cop amongst cops. You see, he was going to start his attack from the ante room, close to the door to the large conference room, cause a panic amongst all the attendees. When he quizzed you about different ranks within the police, he drew a map of where the brass would be seated, which angle to choose to go after Sally, and what to yell and do to take any attention off his person. It was…very detailed. All I had to do was follow the underlines and circles and random words strewn threw the paper. It's pretty bad that his own plan was so vile that even he couldn't write it all out in one manuscript. Instead, he hid it between the pages upon pages of scribble."

"So if he couldn't have her, he wanted to make sure nobody else could. I'd hate to say this but for once I am glad we caught up with him before he could…put his plan into action. That…that celebration is coming up next month, isn't it?"

"Yep, three weeks away. Over a hundred people will be there."

An oppressive silence settled between them until Steve cleared his throat again, then leaned forward.

"I think it's impressive you got that much out of his notepad. Anything in there about these personal questions he was asking me? About you and Jeannie?"

"Nothing that made much sense.", Mike said too fast and helped himself to more grapes, "Maybe he just found you to be an interesting character, somebody worth studying."

"Me? Interesting? I can hardly believe that. Murchison loves that sort of stuff and he didn't see anything unusual with that? Are you sure?"

"Nothing more unusual than a psychopath trying to shoot up a room full of cops. He probably just enjoyed your company."

Taken aback, Steve hesitated for a second before shrugging.

"Well, first chance I get I am going to have to take a look at those notes myself. I want to make sure I didn't give out any…sensitive information while under the influence."

"I am sure even if you did, it won't matter much at this point.", Mike replied with hint of sadness in his voice, "The notepad went missing a couple of days ago. The boys downstairs have been taking apart the evidence room left and right but can't seem to find it. Thankfully I still have the copies of the pages where he outlined the shooting but that's about it. So in essence, whatever you may have given him is buried somewhere in the Hall of Justice. Part of me wants to be frustrated; the other part is just as happy not having to ever see those notes again."

"That's interesting…I never heard of that happen before. I guess it's a fitting end to a bizarre case, isn't it?"

Glad to see that bright smile return to Mike's features, Steve leaned back against the couch, relaxing.

"So, they tell me you did the majority of the legwork when it came to narrowing down the kidnapper, even though you were officially off duty."

"That's what they say, Buddy Boy."

"That makes sense, actually. Like you always say, it takes one to know one."

The flippant comment caused Mike to scowl, then shake his head.

"Did you just call me a psychopath?"

"No, I am just making an educated observation on your skillset of understanding the darkest, most troubled individuals in this town."

"So, you did just call me a psychopath."

"Shall we eat? I gotta head out yet tonight to get you your birthday present."

"Oh, you shouldn't have."

"You say that every year."

"Is it a cruise again?"

"No. The guys and I gave up on that after you cancelled the third time."

"Then what'd you get me?"

"You know I can't tell you until tomorrow. You're going to have to be patient."

"Should I use my superior deductive logic and skillset of reading the darkest and most troubled individuals in town and guess that it's going to be a set of opera tickets?"

The words made Steve freeze in his spot, then scoff.

"Now, how did you guess that?"

"Well, normally a magician doesn't give away his tricks…", Mike sighed theatrically and ran a hand across his forehead, before pointing at the entry table, "But since you're my partner I feel obligated to point out the handwritten list about the upcoming opera plays on your notepad out front. You remembered it from the conversation we had a week or so ago. Good thinking and what a great gift. I will surely treasure it."

Unable to wipe some of the disappointment off his face, Steve pursed his lips, then got back up from the couch, heading for the bag of to-go food.

"I guess…since the secret is out, we can ehm…we can focus on the dinner part and I can get these tickets tomorrow morning and drop them off at your place."

"Now now, don't look so downtrodden. You gave it a good try, Buddy Boy.", Mike said cheerfully and followed him to the kitchen to grab some silverware, "Now can I tell you something else that will cheer you up?"

"And what could that be?"

Wrapping a strong arm around his shoulders, Mike carefully steered him toward the bay window overlooking the bay, "Munson is still on the loose."

"How is that supposed to be good news?"

Slightly taken aback, Mike gasped, then squeezed his arm.

"The good news is that we can pick up where we left off when this whole…this whole mess started. Just you and I. Enjoy your last couple days off, my friend, because once you're back to full duty, we have a lot of work to do."

A lot of work…considering the temporary dull that had befallen the homicide bullpen earlier, Steve sighed in relief, knowing that a lot of work to some people meant stress; to others, especially a certain Lieutenant, it meant living the dream.