Whatever Pete had been expecting, it wasn't that question. He had been hoping that the captain would have too much on his mind to remember that little detail. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Mac discreetly shake his head. Mac hadn't made a report about that; probably because Pete had gone back to the hospital when Mac ordered him to.

"It was a resident at Central Receiving. Mac has the injury report. It's nothing, really." If they were to list all the issues that needed to be dealt with, bullying a resident doesn't seem that bad. Unlike Mac, Pete hadn't taken a seat in one of the chairs. There was a brief flash of pain as he leaned to half sit on a bookcase.

"It seems to have been enough to put you on light duty. Are you in pain now?" Pete would rather admit to teaching Billy and Elizabeth to steal cookies, than admit to being in pain. That's the trouble with complete honesty; it could get you in trouble.

"Not enough to worry about, Skipper." Moore noticed the carefully worded reply, but Pete had looked at him when he said it. For now, he would keep a close eye on his old trainee. It was time to broach a touchy subject.

"Are we all agreed that Ed Wells is not fit to be a training officer?" He desperately hoped that both men would not let their earlier fight get in the way now. He wasn't disappointed.

"We've given him more than enough time to shape up. Pete's right." Mac glanced over at Pete as he spoke. Pete nodded a thank you to Mac for acknowledging that the choice was his to make.

Although Internal Affairs would be involved in the whole mess, Captain Moore had the right to do his own investigation.

"I've read all the reports. It's time to start interviewing the witnesses. Pete…" Without waiting to be told to, Pete stood and crossed the office, opening the door. He pointed to one of the four officers waiting in the outer room.

"Come on in Brown. Take a seat." Pete went back to his perch on the bookcase. He wouldn't say anything during the interview; he was here to supply information when needed. All three of them mostly listened to Officer Brown. There was little to nothing said that wasn't in the report he wrote immediately after the incident with Eli. They did pin down Officer Brown on one question: Did Wells have his gun secured?

Three hours and another four witnesses later, Pete was about to call in the next officer, when the Captain called for a break. Moore asked Mac if he would take the mugs back to the breakroom and bring them back more coffee. Pete and Mac exchanged glance, both wondering the same thing. Why did the Captain want to speak to Pete alone? Once the door was closed, the captain leaned back in his chair, watching Pete closely.

"Do you feel as bad as you look?" Pete laughed and shook his head.

"I don't know, Skipper. I haven't looked in a mirror lately." It was an indirect answer, but it did confirm the captain's suspicions. Pete was in pain. This fact wasn't a surprise to Captain Moore; he had read the incident and injury reports. Three or four swift kicks to the stomach could cause a lot of bruising and soreness. The question was what to do about it. He needed Pete here.

"Have you taken anything for the pain?" This was a tricky question; even an officer on light duty was prohibited from taking narcotics while working. As he spoke, the captain opened the top drawer of his desk. He took out a bottle of aspirin and tossed it to Pete, who had yet to answer the question. "Take a few of those, they might help some. Sorry, I can't let you leave yet."

Pete was taking a few out of the bottle when there was a knock on the door. Both Pete and the captain laughed; it had to be Mac. He must have taken the laughter for permission to enter because he came in with three steaming cups of coffee. Pete used his to down three aspirins and the interviews began again. This time it was Walters.

Unlike the parade of mostly younger officers who had already been in to give their statements, Bill Walters wasn't bothered by the company. He had two years seniority on Pete and had known Mac and Moore since their days on patrol together. He was a highly respected officer and TO. The four of them spoke frankly about not only that night, but the way Ed Wells generally did his job. Pete confirmed it when Walters said that Wells frequently didn't secure his weapon. Malloy had spoken to Ed about it so many times that Ed developed the habit of checking his gun every time he saw Pete

After Walters left the discussion about Wells continued. Ed had gotten more cautious after being shot, but he still took too many shortcuts. He had gone through four partners in five years. Partners complained about his attitude, his work ethic and his charging into situations without thinking. He was seen as being only willing to do the absolute minimum in regards to the requirements of the job. It was the part of Wells that Pete understood the least.

None of this was news to the Captain either.

"Why was he even made a training officer?" Wells had been promoted after Lt. Moore left and before Captain Moore returned. It was a pointed question, but not one they could answer. Pete, who had already been a TO for a few years, hadn't been asked for his opinion and Mac's had been overruled.

Reed was due to be the next to give his statement, but he wasn't expected for half an hour yet. Pete had received a message from Allison. Sgt. Blau wanted him to stop by juvenile when he got found a spare minute. With the captain's permission, Pete took the long way around to her office. He didn't bother to knock, Juvenile was always open.

"I repeat what I said the other morning. You've got a lot of nerve Malloy. First a call at 4 am and now you keep me waiting." Clearly the teasing that was so a part of being a cop, wasn't lacking in Juvenile. Pete smiled, turning on the Irish charm.

"You have my sincerest apologies and if that's not enough, I'll buy you lunch." Pete took a seat on the corner of her desk, moving a pile of papers in the process.

"Dinner Pete, dinner." That was fair; he would treat her to dinner anytime. "Your message said that you had a few questions for me?"

"More than a few", she sighed. It was clear to Pete that Allison hadn't been getting much sleep either. "I have two main ones: Was Ed Wells' weapon secured and do you think Eli would really have shot anyone?"

"No." For the first time all day, there was a spark of teasing in Pete's eyes. Sparring with Ally was always fun and he was in the mood for some fun.

"You're still a pain in the behind, do you know that?" She reached over to playfully swat him with a file.

"Ouch. How can you say that about me? What did I ever do to you?" He reached up to rub his arm, pretending the swat had hurt him.

"You cannot tell me that hurt." She smiled at him as she whacked him again with the file. "Besides waking me up at 4 am on my day off?"

"Yes, beside that." He was now holding his hands out in a "who me?" gesture.

"Let's see. You stood me up how many times?" Allison was silently counting off the times on her fingers. She was on her third trip across her fingers when Pete cut her off.

"I protest. It is not standing you up if I called to cancel." Yeah, it was. Especially when he was calling to cancel after the time he was supposed to be there. He couldn't remember a time he cancelled for any reason other than work though.

"Humph. Are you going to answer my question or am I supposed to guess what you meant by 'no'?"

"Isn't 'no' the first word you ever learned? Are you saying that you forgot its' meaning?" From the look on her face, Pete was sure that she didn't think he remembered that. Her mother loved to tell tales of her childhood and Pete had heard quite a few.

"Okay, smart guy. Is 'no' the answer to both questions?" She had spread out the file before her on the desk. From his view on the other side of the desk, she had a lot of questions.

"Yes." He paused just long enough to get that look of exasperation she used to give him when he was being difficult. "Ed's weapon was not secured and I don't think Eli would have shot anyone. He was just a scared kid. Anyone who would actually shoot in that situation wouldn't have let me talk him down that easily." As he spoke, his voice took on a strange quality.

"What is it Pete?" She knew him well enough to notice a change in him; a faraway look in his eyes. "This kid really got to you, didn't he?"

"I understand him Ally; that fear. I might have done the same thing he did, if I had seen the chance the first time I was brought into jail." He was nervously tapping his fingers on his right thigh, almost as if he was playing a piano. Allison recognized that gesture; he often did it when he was troubled or worried.

Allison didn't know where to start. How do you answer that? Why had he shared that with her? As far as she knew, Pete was the altar boy, Eagle Scout type. Jail? She just stared at him, dumbfounded.

"I was thirteen." For a few minutes, Pete was lost in his memories and Allison was dying to shake him and ask him what he was talking about. The first time? Eventually, he smiled.

"I stole a cow…It was a prank. We, my two friends and I, were caught letting it into the gym of the rival high school." Pete chuckled, "We were real desperados."

Allison was laughing so hard that she started to make a choking noise. The image of her friend, who was considered one of the best officers in the division, being a cow stealer was simply too bizarre. He thought she was getting way too much enjoyment at his expense.

"You tell anyone that story, and I will deny it. Remember, I know quite a few embarrassing things about you." He did. It was times like this that Allison wanted to strangle her mother. This was such a good story and she couldn't share it.

"Can you help him? He was picked up for graffiti. I don't see how putting him in the Hall would serve any purpose. It was mostly Ed's fault." He wasn't sure why, but this one meant something to him. "Please Ally. I have to get back to the Captain's office, but if you need me, let me know. Thanks."

Pete was gone before Sgt. Blau realized that he had left without explaining what he meant by "first time". She wouldn't forget that slip he made. There would be plenty of time to find out what else he was arrested for.

By the time Pete got back to the Captain's office, Jim was already in there giving his statement. Reed hadn't been there for the start of the incident so his interview was short. Malloy then briefed them on the progress of the Eli part of all of this.

"Sgt. Blau is going to argue for leniency for Eli. The initial offense was a misdemeanor; it was mischief. If Ed had followed proper procedures, none of the rest would have happened. He seems to be a good kid who panicked. He never wanted to hurt anyone." There was some discussion about Juvenile's decision, but Pete swayed them to agree with going easy on the kid.

Pete couldn't wait for all of this mess was sorted out; he was in pain and wanted to go home. He was in luck. Captain Moore informed them that I IAD would be busy all day with Wells, so they could leave. Jim wrangled his way into coming over to Pete's house to watch the Dodger game on television. Actually, Pete did want the company, but he conned Jim into stopping for a pizza, ice cream and some beers. This was accomplished mainly because Jean's mother and aunt were visiting his wife.

He had one more thing to do before he could leave. Walters was still in the locker room, working out. Other than that, they were alone; which was the way Pete wanted it. Bill's probationer had only one month left on his probationary years. He could easily be passed off. Pete spoke to Walters frankly. This would be harder than dealing with a brand new rookie; he had to be untaught whatever bad habits he picked up from riding with Wells. Walters agreed to the change and also agreed to not say anything to anyone about the switch until it was officially made.

Pete changed out of his uniform, tossing it into the dry cleaning bin. He hated to clean regular laundry, preferring to pay someone else to do it. Uniforms were way beyond Pete's ability to clean and press properly. They were too much trouble. The drive home was relaxing; the pressures of the day were gone. At least until he pulled into the apartment parking lot.

Wells was sitting on the stairs to his apartment. He did not look happy.