Thanks to everyone who came along on this journey - it's not been an easy one to write, nor probably to read and I appreciate those who stuck it out. Many thanks as well to my regular readers and reviewers - I hope I kept you entertained and interested.

Mike took a sip of coffee, glancing at his watch as he put the mug down on the kitchen table. "I better start laying off the caffeine or I'll never get to sleep tonight," he chuckled.

Pierce's eyebrows rose. "You seriously think you're going to be getting any sleep tonight? It's already two. How long do you think it's gonna take to get those knuckleheads out of here?"

Olsen glanced uneasily at his host and his agreeing chuckle seemed a little subdued, but neither of the others seemed to notice. "So what's the battle plan?" he asked.

"Well, I have cabs lined up for everyone, on me, so don't worry about that. I already called Yellow Cabs and they know what's up, so that's all been taken care of. Dan lives near here, Bill and Norm live close to each other so they can share one. Lee gets one; Steve's staying here. Do you guys mind sharing one?"

"I, ah, I drove," Olsen confessed. At Mike's sudden frown, he continued quickly, "Look, I knew I would do a little drinking first thing but I also suspected that I'd stop early enough to be cold sober by the time everything broke up. And since that glass of bourbon just before dinner, I've stuck to colas and coffee." He held a hand out; it was steady. "See, sober as a judge."

Mike stared at the hand then back up at his boss's face. "You know that depends on what judge you're talking about, right?"

Pierce's eyebrows furrowed then he laughed. "He's got you there, Rudy. Remember ol' Jackson Wyatt? Retired about, oh, six, eight years back? I once saw him put away a full tumbler of scotch while we were in recess then get back on the bench and carry on like nothing was wrong."

Olsen smiled but stared at his host without flinching. "Don't worry about me, Mike, I'd never drive if I felt I was compromised. And I can drive Marty here home." He paused, "Besides, who's going to help you get all those drunks down your steps and into cabs? You're still on the DL, remember?"

Mike finally smiled. With a loud sigh, he nodded, "Okay, all right, you win. Just tell Marie I had nothing to do with it, right? That I asked you to be driven here, okay?"

"Don't worry, I'll handle Marie." Olsen laughed as he got to his feet. "I don't know about you two, but it's gotten way too quiet in there for me." He gestured towards the living room with his head.

Both Mike and Pierce looked towards the kitchen door, suddenly equally alarmed. "You're right," Mike whispered theatrically, getting up. "Do you think they're all asleep?"

The three men tiptoed to the entrance and peeked into the living room. Steve and Dan were on the couch; Norm in the armchair. Bill was on one of the kitchen chairs while Lee was sitting on the floor. All heads were back, all eyes were closed, and more than one was snoring softly.

The coffee table was piled high with dirty glasses, an empty Mason jar, a large ashtray filled with numerous cigarette and two cigar butts, two large empty bowls, several empty potato chip packets, and five mugs. The second empty Mason jar and the bourbon bottle were on the carpet near the armchair, together with more dirty glasses and two piles of haphazardly stacked plates, denuded t-bones and cutlery piled on top. Dirty cloths napkins were everywhere.

Mike sighed. "I think you were right about not getting any sleep tonight." He chuckled. "Rudy, can you call the cab company? Tell 'em we just need three cabs instead of four, and apologize, please? The number's on the pad near the phone."

"Will do," Olsen grinned as he turned back to the wall phone.

Mike and Pierce exchanged a wide-eyed stare. "Well," Pierce chuckled, "where do you want to start?"

Mike laughed. "Your guess is as good as mine. Let's try to wake 'em up, I guess. Good luck." He took the few steps to the closest comatose man, Haseejian in the armchair. With his left hand, he grabbed his sergeant's upper arm and shook. "Norm, Norm, wake up," he urged. There was a grunt and the Armenian detective squirmed, trying to break the grip, but he remained asleep. Mike shook him harder, "Norm!"

Haseejian's eyes snapped open and he stared at the older man in confusion. "Oh, hi, Mike," he slurred eventually, a goofy grin appearing on his broad face, "what's up?"

Chuckling, Mike attempted to pull the big man to his feet. "You, Norm, you've got to get up. It's time to go."

"Time to go?" Haseejian mumbled as he tried to stand, continuing to stare at Mike. "Go where?"

"Home, Norm, you're going home."

"I am? Oh, good, I like home."

"That's good," Mike said soothingly, trying not to laugh as Haseejian caught his balance and began to follow. When they got to the door, Mike opened it, hoping the crisp, fresh outdoor air would begin to clear the funk and smoke from indoors.

"You're tall, you know that?" Haseejian mumbled, staring up at his boss. "I don't remember you being that tall… When did you get to be so tall?"

"It's the brace, remember?" Mike explained patiently, "I've told you that several times tonight already, remember?"

Haseejian's entire face creased as he struggled with the question. His eyes suddenly widened. "Nope, I don't remember…"

"Okay, Norm, okay," Mike chuckled quietly, patting Haseejian's forearm. "You just stay right here. I gotta get Dan, okay?"

"Okay, Mike," Haseejian nodded as Mike transferred his hand to the doorframe. "I'll stay here."

"Good." Mike shook his head quickly as he moved back towards the couch, glancing at Pierce and trying not to laugh. The Narcotics lieutenant had managed to rouse Tanner and Lessing and they were both on their feet, beginning their navigation towards the front door as well.

Mike was approaching Healey when Olsen entered from the kitchen. "Cabs are on their way. I'll get Dan, Mike; you wake Steve up."

"No, no, no," Mike said quickly, "I'll let him sleep until you guys all leave. I might just leave him there all night."

"Good plan."

"One of the cabs is here!" Pierce called from the stoop. "I'll take Norm and Bill down. Wish me luck!" he cackled as they heard him continue, "Okay, you two, careful on the stairs. I don't want no broken bones, you hear me."

# # # # #

Less than five minutes later, all the drunken cops were safely in cabs and on their way home. Mike, Olsen and Pierce were standing in the open front doorway, surveying the still dormant Steve Keller and the detritus from a great evening well spent.

"Really, Mike, we could stay for a bit and help you start to clean up," Olsen said once more and his old friend shook his head again.

"Rudy, I already told you, I'm gonna leave it and get Steve, hungover or not, to help me in the morning. Don't worry about it. And don't forget, neither one of us is going back to work for a couple of weeks anyway – so what else do we have to do?"

"If you're sure...?" Pierce reiterated, and Mike gave a final nod.

His two guests had taken another step towards the staircase when Olsen turned to Pierce. "Marty, could you do me a favor?" He took out his keys. "I, ah, I need to talk to Mike for a few minutes. Could you wait in the car?"

Pierce froze for a split second, his eyes darting from Olsen's to Mike's, then he reached out and took the keys. "Sure, not a problem. Thanks again, Mike, it was a great night." He turned and started down the steps.

"You're welcome, Marty," Mike whispered loudly to Pierce's retreating back, ever mindful of his neighbours. He turned to Olsen with a troubled brow. "What's going on, Rudy?"

Olsen studied his old friend and sighed loudly. As he reached for the front door to pull it closed, he gestured with his head. "Have a seat."

Swallowing involuntarily, worry on the rise, Mike sat on the top step. Olsen dropped down beside him.

"What's going on?" Mike asked again.

Olsen inhaled deeply. "I didn't want to tell you earlier… 'cause I didn't want to spoil the evening. But I thought you should know tonight…" He watched as Mike swallowed heavily, apprehension and fear growing in the blue eyes.

"I, ah, I got a call early this afternoon… from the Kentucky State Police. There was a… an incident yesterday… near Kearney. A couple of the moonshine running families… There was a gunfight…"

Mike didn't move, staring into Olsen's eyes, not blinking. The captain could hear his friend's breaths getting deeper and deeper.

"Two members of the Scobie family were killed… so was one of the Rutter family. And thirteen family members were wounded, some of them critically." Olsen looked away briefly and took a deep breath. "Mike, Sheriff Noble was killed… so was a KSP officer. Not one of the ones we met but… Deputy Carter was shot but he's going to survive… and two others KSP troopers were wounded as well…"

Mike still hadn't moved, but his gaze was now down and unfocused and his breaths were audible. Olsen laid a hand on his forearm and squeezed. And waited. They sat in silence for a long minute then, without a word, Mike began to stand. Olsen shot to his feet and helped the injured man up, staring at him the entire time, concerned about the lack of response.

Mike had turned to his front door then back to his old friend. "Ah, thanks, Rudy… thanks. Um, I can take it from here…thanks…" As he reached for the doorknob, Olsen grabbed his hand.

"Mike, Mike…" The lieutenant stopped but continued to stare at the door. "Are you all right?"

Mike glanced at the captain and a dead, perfunctory smile briefly crossed his lips. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me," he said quickly, grabbing the knob and opening the door.

Olsen's grip tightened. "Are you sure?" he demanded.

Mike hesitated then his face softened and a small, warm smile surfaced below the pain-filled eyes. He inhaled raggedly. "Thanks for telling me, Rudy, really… and thanks for waiting… seriously, I appreciate it." He paused and sighed heavily. "I just, ah… I just have to process it now, you know… I just, ah, I need to be alone, okay?"

Olsen nodded slowly and removed his hand. "Okay," he said quietly, "okay. You take care of yourself, okay? I'll call you tomorrow." Mike nodded. "Take care of Steve too, okay?"

Mike, his eyes suddenly bright, nodded again. "Yeah, yeah, I can do that… thanks again, Rudy…" As he stepped across the threshold into his house, he felt Olsen's hand pat his back comfortingly.

He closed the door then leaned against it, squeezing his eyes shut. He stood there for several long seconds, breathing deeply, trying to stop his mind from racing, his thoughts from pounding against his skull. Although the kitchen overhead was on, the living room was only illuminated by one endtable lamp, bathing the room in a warm amber glow.

He took an unsteady step towards the couch, staring at his sleeping partner. Making up his mind, he crossed to the kitchen to turn off the overhead, then climbed the stairs to the second floor. He came down seconds later with two pillows and a blanket, dumping them on the armchair. He pushed the laden coffee table out of the way, then placed the pillows on the far end of the sofa.

Bending carefully, he put his left hand on his partner's shoulder and gently shook him. "Steve, Steve," he said quietly. When there was no response, and being careful not to aggravate his right shoulder, he shook the younger man harder and raised his voice. "Steve, wake up! I need you to wake up!"

With a groan, his head flopping back and forth, the younger man finally opened his eyes. Mike stopped the shaking as the green eyes focused and found his face. "Oh, hi, Mike," Steve slurred, smiling sloppily. "What are you doing here?"

Despite everything he was feeling, Mike dropped his head and chuckled. When he looked back up, there was a warmth in his eyes and a slight smile on his lips. "I live here. Look, you're drunk and you're going to sleep here tonight. I just need you to lie down."

"To what?"

"To lie down." He gestured with his head towards the other end of the sofa. "See the pillows. I want you to lie down and go to sleep. Can you do that for me?"

Steve's head had turned very slowly towards the pillows and back, and he blinked heavily several times. "Sure… I can lie down…" he chuckled, swaying where he sat.

"Okay, good," Mike smiled back, carefully putting both hands on his partner's upper arms and starting to push him down onto the couch.

"Whoaa!" Steve howled as he felt himself moving sideways, giggling when his head finally hit the pillow. He blinked up at Mike with a grin plastered across his face, looking very pleased with himself.

Smiling fondly, Mike picked up the blanket, flapped it open then laid it over his partner. "Go back to sleep, and I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay," Steve chuckled back, still grinning stupidly. Silently, Mike stared at him for several seconds then began to turn away.

"Mike," he heard the slurred voice as he started towards the stairs. He turned back. Steve was staring at him, blinking slowly. "I love you, you know..." There was a nervous, drunken giggle. "I've told you that before, haven't I?" Suddenly the green eyes looked worried.

Mike smiled. "Yeah," he said slowly, "you've told me that before." They stared at each other, then Steve nodded ponderously. "I mean it, you know."

Nodding, and still smiling, Mike said quietly, "I know you do. Go to sleep."

With a happy groan, a grin lighting his face, Steve closed his eyes and snuggled into the pillow.

His smile disappearing, Mike turned off the lamp, crossed to the stairs and started up. Halfway to the second floor, he stopped, turned around and sat. In the dark, he looked towards the couch. He sat there for a very long time, staring into the blackness, listening to the gentle, even breaths of his partner, his buddy boy, his best friend.

He got up from the step and made his way to his room. Without turning on the light, he crossed to the bed and sat. Eventually he crawled onto the bed and leaned back against the pillows piled against the wedge. He stared towards the ceiling, his eyes having adjusted to the dark.

Wincing, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder, he leaned forward and brought his knees up. He wrapped his arms around his shins and dropped his head onto his knees. And he wept.