AN: The moment that you have been patiently waiting for...

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing!

Tanith


Chapter 23

Steve didn't even fully comprehend what he had done but somehow he had lost his self-control and with his good hand he had smashed his fist into Whitney's mouth, wheeling the younger man around.

Realizing he'd crossed the line, Steve let his guard down for the briefest of moments but that was all it took for Whitney's retaliation to even the score.

Steve fell back against the sink as Whitney's punch connected with his jaw rendering him senseless.

Whitney wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and grabbed Steve by the lapels of his shirt.

Pumped with a rush of pure adrenaline the two men tried to wrestle the other into submission. They crashed into the dining table, upending chairs. Steve's arm hit the vase of flowers that served as a centre-piece and sent it flying across the room, narrowly missing Jeannie who had rushed downstairs when she heard their raised voices. The china shattered into thousands of fragments stretching out into the hallway as the vase hit the floor. Neither men knew the vase had been a final gift Jeannie had given to her late mother.

"Stop! Steve! Whitney!" Jeannie skirted around the mess on the floor and tried to find a way to intervene. The scene seemed so surreal to her as she watched her fiancé and best friend pummel each other. What on earth could have led to this?

Steve's hand screamed in agony as he used it to propel himself off the surface of the table and drove Whitney into the refrigerator door with a resounding thud. Winded but not deterred, Whitney tried to sweep Steve's legs from under him but all he succeeded to do was disrupted both their balance. Steve took another swing but Whitney ducked and used his shoulder to barrel them onward. Steve's back connected against the edge of the breakfast bar. A world of agony exploded in the off-duty's cop's lower back and he cried out in pain. Like a wounded lion, he refused to relent. His knees started to buckle but he fought to stay on his feet and shot his left fist hard into his opponent's unprotected midsection, catching him below the sternum.

Whitney's air supply was extinguished and was left gasping.

Neither of the young men paid any attention to Jeannie's hollers from the doorway nor did they hear the front door open and Mike rushing into the kitchen.

Unable to regain his strength, Steve took hold of Whitney's sports jacket and tried to wrestle him to the ground. His injured hand screaming against the strain but he ignored it, despite the pain making him queasy.

Still struggling to get his breath back, Whitney was unable to stay on his feet. Together they both fell to the floor with Steve's hands still latching firmly onto Whitney's jacket.

"That's enough! Steve! Let him go!" Mike bellowed. He prized the two young men apart with his partner yanked up by the back of his shirt. Somehow Steve still managed to let loose a kick that met Whitney's side.

"Steve!" Mike growled angrily, using both hands to bring his partner under control.

Whitney, having quickly recovered, climbed to his feet and lunged forward, driving his fist into Steve's stomach.

Mike pulled a doubled over Steve away and placed himself between the hot headed men. He planted his hand against Whitney's chest and growled, "Don't think about making another move!" A sudden movement from behind him tested the Lieutenant's reflexes and patience. He grabbed Steve by the shoulders firmly, tearing his rumpled and blood stained shirt in the process. "What part of enough did I not make clear to you?"

Keeping the two young men a safe distance apart with one hand against each of their heaving chests, Mike waited for them to ease their stances. After several deep breaths by all parties involved, it became clear the fight had left Whitney and Steve. Both men leaned against the nearest piece of furniture in the room as their bodies registered the damage they suffered and the adrenaline rushed out of their system to be replaced immediately by pain.

Mike dropped his arms to his sides and looked from one to the other. "Would one of you care to tell me what the hell is going on?" he demanded.

Whitney and Steve both shuffled their feet uncomfortably, avoiding the fury in Mike's eyes. Both had given in to the discomfort of their injuries. Steve lowered himself into a chair, flexing his jaw and cradling his broken hand while Whitney slid to the floor dabbing his mouth with his fingers. His lower lip was bleeding freely.

"Don't all of you talk at once!" Mike snapped. "Neither of you have anything to say?"

Steve was first to look up and croaked, "Ask him! He started it!"

"That's rich, Keller! You threw the first punch!" Whitney defended breathlessly.

Before another argument erupted, Mike silenced them with a bellowed, "I don't care who started it! Since neither of you are going to man up, maybe my daughter can help me out here. After all, you both put on such a good show for her!" Mike's head turned to Jeannie who stood in complete shocked silence.

It was then that Steve and Whitney not only realized Jeannie's presence but Inspector Irene Martin's as well. The law enforcer had her arm around Jeannie's shoulders, looking concerned.

Mike lowered his voice and asked urgently but as gently as he could, "Jeannie, can you shed some light here?"

Jeannie's eyes were brimming with unshed tears. Behind those tears was anger and confusion. "I was hoping they could tell me! I was upstairs getting changed and when I heard them arguing I came down to this." She spread her arms, indicating the mess in the kitchen.

Mike returned his fiery gaze to the two culprits. "Well?"

Once again, neither men spoke.

"Alright," Mike faced Jeannie once more. "Sweetheart, do you have some place to be?"

"I had some research to do at the library for an assignment," Jeannie replied.

Mike nodded and turned to face Irene, "Would you mind watching over these two clowns here while I'm gone?"

"Of course," Irene nodded.

Then exchanging a look with Steve and Whitney, he continued in controlled anger, "When I get back, this kitchen had better be returned to the state that it was in this morning. And one of you will have an explanation. Do we have an understanding?"

Two mumbled and intelligible replies followed, before Mike took his daughter by the elbow and led her outside the house.