AN: Just a short one as I have work tomorrow so it is bed time for me. No promises on when the next update will be but I hope it will be soon ;-)

Thank you to all my readers out there for reading this story and those who had the chance to leave me a review thank you so much! This next chapter is for my guest reviewer, "Helene" (whose support for the writers here is always appreciated) and "Dublin Writer" (some Steve whump heading your way!)

Tanith


Chapter 6

After Steve showered, he collapsed onto his bed with a heavy sigh. He was exhausted beyond words and wanted more than anything to just close his eyes and go to sleep but a noise coming from what sounded like the garage forced him out of bed. It was probably some wild animal, was his initial thoughts and so he pulled on a tee shirt and pair of pants then with his feet still bare he trudged down the stairs, flicking on the lights along the way. He peered out the window beside the front door but the street was empty. Unlocking the door, he made his way down to the garage and paused when he saw something that made him uneasy. The roller door wasn't shut all the way. He thought back to when he left for Mike's place and could've sworn he'd shut the door all the way. He carefully crept toward the garage then slowly pushed the door open all the way. He flicked on the light switch then walked all the way around his car. Nothing stirred. No one but himself was there. Running his fingers through his wet hair, Steve was about to turn the light off and leave the garage when he felt someone grab the back of his shirt and shove him face first against the wall. Stars erupted in his eyes as his cheekbone and forehead connected with the brickwork. An arm then held him back against someone's chest in a headlock. Steve struggled vainly and twisted his body away from the wall. He stepped backward, then lifting both feet off the floor he slammed them against his car and propelled himself backward so that his attacker's back hit the wall behind him. Steve's oxygen supply was limited by the tightness of the choke hold he was subjected to. He knew pretty soon, he would tire and be left at a disadvantage. Seeing a screwdriver on the workbench, he made a dive for it, taking his captor with him. The combined weight of the two men lurching forward sent them crashing against the bench, knocking the tool box down to the ground as Steve reached for the screwdriver. Suddenly, just as his fingers closed around the tool, he felt himself being hurled backward. As his back smacked against the passenger door of his Porsche, he dropped the screwdriver and it rolled under his car. He came to his senses just in time as a crowbar swung toward him. Ducking his head, he heard the metal bar smash through the window, showering him with broken glass. Steve managed to get a look at the culprit but all he could see was a figure who stood a little taller than him wearing a balaclava. By all accounts, he was trying to commit a robbery and Steve was unfortunate enough to catch him in the act. The young Inspector kicked out with one leg, catching the burglar squarely in the chest. Scrambling to his feet, Steve continued to grapple with the crook whom he could now see was wearing brass knuckles over the glove of one of his hands. Great, he thought. The guy came prepared and here he was, a cop no less in his own home, with nothing within his grasp he could use as a weapon to even up the odds. Just great.

Steve lunged forward and tackled the perp to the ground. He swung his fist but his intended target moved his head to one side and his knuckles met with the concrete ground. Steve screamed in pain and rolled off his opponent. He was certain he'd done himself some real damage to his hand and he needed to put some distance between himself and the bandit. As he scrambled to get to his feet, he knew he was in serious trouble when the burglar's shoulder barreled into him. His feet left the ground and his body ended up on top of the work bench. The impact caused an old wooden shelf to fall from its bracket and land on Steve's back. Kicking his legs out, Steve ignored the debris falling around and on top of him. He was satisfied when he caught the perp a solid kick in the midsection. The man grunted and doubled over, allowing Steve a momentary respite as he detangled himself from the mess that had once been his work bench. As his feet touched the ground, a knee was driven into his ribs, knocking all the air from his lungs. Strong hands then grabbed him by the shirt, tearing the material as he was thrown against the wall once again. Before he could do anything else, a blow landed on the right side of his lower back, catching him in the kidney. A second and third punch left him incapacitated. The next thing he felt was his own body crumpling to the ground as the blood rushed through his ears and the world spun out of control. He fought to remain conscious but it was a battle he was swiftly losing and despite his attempts to shake it off, darkness closed in and claimed him.


The next morning, Mike woke up later than he had planned. Having stayed back at the office longer than he told himself he would, made it almost impossible to drag himself out of bed when the alarm went off. If it hadn't been for Jeannie waking him up, he probably wouldn't have woken up for quite some time. And poor Steve would be left to his own devices, Mike thought, an amused grin spread across his face. A quick shower, shave and coffee later, he called Steve to let him know he was on his way over but he didn't answer his phone which wasn't altogether unusual so he thought nothing of it, apart from feeling a little annoyed.

"Maybe he's in the shower?" Jeannie suggested as she brought the mug of coffee to her lips.

"You don't know him like I do. He likes to toy with me, that boy. Just wait. One of these days…" Mike left the rest of what he was going to say unsaid as he pulled on his coat and hat then bade his daughter a good day.

When Mike reached Steve's house, he saw the garage door was halfway up. Ordinarily this would have been odd but as Jeannie had phoned him last night about her car, he figured that Steve was trying to fix it himself while he waited for him to show up. He strolled up the drive-way and ducked under the roller-door. "Well, at least you have a good excuse this time for not answering my call," He quipped but the joke died the moment his eyes found his partner lying on the floor in a torn tee shirt and pants.