They sat in silence for several long seconds, lost in their own thoughts. Steve's hand wandered down to feel the bullet in his right pocket again, and his gaze drifted to his partner's heavily bandaged right shoulder. He tried to suppress the shudder that suddenly overtook him and closed his eyes.

He could feel Mike's hand tighten on his forearm. He smiled and opened his eyes to see the warm blue ones staring at him. "I'm okay," the older man said softly, as if reading his mind.

"I know," he whispered back, "so am I."

"What's in your pocket?" Mike asked gently, nodding vaguely in that direction.

Caught out, Steve froze then grinned and shook his head. "You don't miss a beat, do you?"

Mike just raised his eyebrows and waited.

With a heavy sigh, Steve shifted slightly so he could slip his right hand into his pocket. He pulled out the plastic evidence bag but before it was completely free, he heard Mike catch his breath.

"Is that from the car?"

Steve nodded as he held the bag closer. Mike's stare suddenly snapped to his partner's face. "That isn't the one…?" he asked sharply, his left hand jerking towards his own right shoulder.

"No, no," Steve assured quickly. "They, ah, they need that one for evidence… This is one they got out of the back seat though."

Mike relaxed and leaned back against the pillow, breathing heavily. He looked up into his partner's face. "The same bullets hit you too, right?"

Steve nodded, looking at the long copper-jacketed cartridge in the plastic bag in his hand. "We were so lucky, Mike… so lucky."

The older man nodded slowly, once more sliding his fingers around Steve's forearm and squeezing. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, trying to slow the pounding of his heart. Suddenly his eyes shot open and he lifted his head, trying not to wince. "What day it is?"

"What?" Steve asked, confused.

"What day of the week is it?" Mike demanded.

"Um, ah, Sunday, I think. Why?"

Mike let his head drop back and he sighed. "I have to call Jeannie. I told her about this trip and said I'd call her on Sunday night and let her know how it went."

"You're not going to tell her what happened, are you?" Steve asked, brow furrowed.

"No, of course not, are you kidding? She'd kill me for not telling her," he chuckled dryly. "Do you know what time zone we're in?"

"Ah, yeah, Eastern. Remember we had to change our watches when we drove down here from Louisville?"

"Oh, yeah, that was weird," Mike nodded, "you know, middle of the state and all that…"

"What time are you supposed to call her?"

"Eight her time. What would that be here?"

"Ah, oh, eleven."

"Eleven? Tonight? You're kidding, right?"

"Sorry, no. It's a three-hour difference, and we're ahead of them out here, right? Most of Arizona doesn't observe Daylight Savings Time, remember, so they have the same time as San Francisco, which is three hours behind us."

"Eleven… I'm pretty sure I'm not going to be able to stay awake till eleven." Mike sounded flustered. "And I know if I don't call, she's gonna worry and try to get a hold of me."

Steve put his hand on Mike's good shoulder. "Look, why don't I stay with you tonight and I can set my watch alarm and make sure you're awake to make the call?"

"Can I do it from here, do you think?"

Steve smiled. "I'll find out." He shook his head and sighed. "We should have been home days ago, right?"

"Yeah," Mike exhaled loudly. He stared into his partner's eyes and inhaled raggedly. "I'm just grateful that neither one of us is going home in a body bag."

Increasing the pressure of his hand on Mike's shoulder, Steve nodded, closing his eyes.

# # # # #

"Oh my god, this is one of the best apple pies I've ever had," Rudy Olsen enthused as he forked the second piece into his mouth.

There were consenting chuckles from around the room, and Steve raised his eyebrows, nodding with a close-mouthed grin towards his partner on the bed. Mike nodded and grinned back.

They had decided to share the pie, and as Pearson and Noble had requested a final debriefing of all the parties involved, the San Francisco detectives agreed Mike's room was the perfect place to convene. Therefore, as the courteous host, Mike suggested they all enjoy Mrs. Rutter's gracious gift. It was turning out to be a big hit.

Sheriff Noble smacked his lips. "Mmm-hmmm. You know what would go perfectly with this?" he asked no one in particular, and for a split second Mike and Steve looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Some nice cold cherry cola." Both detectives relaxed and chuckled.

"Some what?" Olsen asked with a frown.

"Cherry cola," the Kearney cop said with a wide smile. "Y'all ain't never had no cherry cola?" he asked, laying on the corn-pone accent.

"Ah, no," Olsen said slowly, unsure exactly what was going on. The others chuckled, studying their plates, trying to look innocent. "It's… what? Just Coca-Cola with cherry flavoring?"

"Why, yes, sir, yew got it!" Noble grinned, nodding vigorously.

"Sounds disgusting," Olsen mumbled under his breath, getting back to his pie.

Mike's chuckle turned into a full-blown laugh, which quickly turned into a cough, and he grabbed his right shoulder. Steve, who was sitting in an armchair next to the bed, got up quickly and handed over the cup of water from the bedside table. After a couple of sips, Mike nodded his thanks. "Whew," he chuckled softly, "haven't had a good laugh in awhile. That felt good. Pain and all, it was worth it." He glanced at Olsen and chuckled again.

KSP Sergeant Pearson put his empty plate on the floor beneath his chair and cleared his throat. "Well, gents, anything anybody can think of that we've left unsaid or undone in all this?" His eyes circled the room.

"Not from my end," Martin Pierce said, leaning forward and looking towards Mike and Steve. "Just so you guys know, as far as my department is concerned, everything concerning Donald Lee Rutter is now null and void. Unfortunately now we can't get any higher up in the organization, 'cause I think he would've made a great stool- …" he caught Mike's angry frown and changed tactics, "a great informant. But that's, ah, that's moot now.

"Anyway, I've asked Sheriff Noble here," he glanced in that direction, "to let the Rutter family know that as far as SFPD is concerned, there's nothing to be concerned about. It's over."

"And to convey the Department's condolences," Mike added pointedly, staring at his Narcotics counterpart.

Pierce met the suddenly severe blue eyes levelly then nodded with conviction. "Ah, yes, of course. That, ah, that goes without saying."

"I'm just making sure you say it," Mike said evenly, as Pierce wilted slightly under the glare.

Steve was glancing between the two lieutenants, trying to hide his growing smile. It felt great to see his partner back to almost full strength, in every connotation of that word. Mike at a hundred percent was always a force to be reckoned with, no matter who he was up against.

"We'll, ah, we'll make sure the family gets something in writing to that affect, don't worry," Olsen offered, verbally stepping in between his two subordinates. Pierce sank back in his chair, staring at the floor; with a slight smile, Mike pushed the overbed with his empty pie plate further away and leaned back. He looked at Steve and winked.

Noble glanced at Pearson and cleared his throat. "So, ah, from what we've heard from Dr. O'Neil, they're gonna be lettin' you out, Mike, day after tomorrow, right?"

Receiving a nod, he continued, "And, ah, somethin' tells us you two don' wanna be stickin' around for any longer than necessary, right?"

The two partners chuckled, sharing a quick look, and the others joined them.

"Yeah, that's what we thought," Noble snickered.

"No offense, right?" Steve asked easily and everyone laughed.

Pearson, still grinning, leaned forward. "In that regard, we've arranged for all four of you," he nodded at each San Franciscan, "to be driven to Louisville on Tuesday morning, in an escorted convoy. You'll be put up in a hotel near the airport under guard and escorted to the airport the next morning, with a security detail assigned to you until the plane door closes. How does that sound?"

Mike looked at his partner and chuckled slightly. "You know, when we first got here last week, I would've said that was a little excessive. But now I just really want to get home, and seeing as the last time we tried to leave, we ended up here… well… Sergeant, those plans sound just fine to me." He finished with a grin. "Steve?"

"You'll get no argument from me," the younger man shook his head with a wide smile.

"Good," Pearson nodded, "consider it done. I'll let you know what time we'll be leaving so you're all packed and ready to go."

"Speaking of which, I believe Steve and I need to get some of our things back." Mike looked towards Noble and smiled.

It was the Kearney sheriff's turn to grin. "Yes, Lieutenant, I do have both your .38's and you'll be getting those back. Your suitcases are here, of course, but they'll be a little lighter on the trip home."

"Which reminds me," Mike interrupted, turning to Pierce with a evil grin. "Marty, I do believe you owe me a new suit… and possibly a hat."

At the mention of the hat, Noble looked quickly from Mike to Pierce and back.

Pierce sat back with a confused frown. "What?"

Steve had turned to Mike and they both nodded and looked back at Pierce. "Yeah, and, ah, I lost a nice jacket and a very sweet pair of dress slacks."

"Yeah," Mike emphasized with a sharp nod. "I mean, it's the least you could do. After all, we weren't even supposed to be here. It was Narcotics case, not Homicide's. We were doing you a favor. So…?"

Pierce looked at Olsen. "Rudy…?"

The captain raised his hands and dropped his head. "Leave me out of this. As far as I'm concerned, this is an inter-department thing. I want nothing to do with it."

Pierce sagged in his chair then, under a furrowed brow, glanced up at the grinning partners. Noble and Pearson stifled their laughter and masked their smiles. Clearing his throat with a chuckle, Noble said, "Mike, they did manage to salvage your shoes and your belt."

"Oh," the older man with a snort, "well, I guess that's better than nothing. Good thing I brought a change of clothes or I'd be going home naked," he finished with a wide-eyed stare at his Narcotics counterpart, who sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes.

Steve looked down, trying not to laugh too loudly then looked at Mike sideways. His partner was having just too much fun. As the laughter died down, he raised his head and looked at Pearson. "Sergeant, Deputy Carruthers seems to think we won't see hide nor hair of any of the families involved in all this before we get out of here? Do you think he's right about that?"

Pearson gave the question serious consideration before he answered. "Yeah, you know, I do," he started slowly, nodding. "From what you told us about your meeting with the Rutters, and what you said, Mike, about your time with the Caudills, well, it seems to me that both families have recognized that you two really have nothing to do with what's going on between the families. Steve, you seem to have developed a real rapport with the Rutters and Mike, well, I've never heard about anyone walking away from an encounter with J.B. with their life intact, so…?" He shrugged.

"My best guess is," he continued, and they hung on his every word, "we won't see any of them. But we're still not gonna take any chances. There's gonna be a guard outside your door, Mike, and another at the motel, and we'll be leaving here on Tuesday lights and sirens, in a four car convoy. There's no point in taking chances now, is there?"

There were serious nods all around, then Mike piped up. "Okay, please help me get this straight…" There was enough whimsy in his voice that Steve's smile was automatic. "The head of the family that I was, ah, detained by, his name is J.B., right?"

"Right," Noble confirmed with grin, "Josiah Beauregard."

"Josiah Beauregard," Mike echoed pensively, nodding, "okay… and, ah, the head of the Rutter family is… J.D.?"

"Unh-hunh," Noble offered again, "Jefferson Davis."

Frowning, Mike stared at the Kearney sheriff in perplexity. "How in the hell do you guys keep all that straight?" He looked at his partner in ersatz bewilderment. "I'm glad your name is just Steve."