He opened his eyes. He was slightly surprised to see the room was still quite dark, but at this time of the year that was to be expected. He had no idea what time it was but he was pretty sure he had slept through most of the previous day and all night uninterrupted.

The lethargy that had immobilized him was gone and he actually felt rested, though he was loathe to move; after two days of being drugged and tied up in the dark and the cold, even a hospital bed felt luxurious.

Closing his eyes again, he took a deep breath then let it out slowly, pulling the heavy blanket around him, reveling in the warmth. He lay still, listening to the sounds of the hospital coming to life on the other side of the heavy wooden door.

He started slightly when he heard a soft breath and the rustling of clothes that seemed to come from inside the room. He lifted his head, then smiled.

Steve, still in his leather jacket, was sound asleep in one of the sturdy black metal and canvas chairs. He had pulled it against the far wall so he could lean his head against it; his legs were stretched out and crossed, his hands folded atop his stomach. And while he wasn't snoring, he was breathing heavily through his open mouth.

With a chuckle, Mike let his head drop back onto the bed. As much as he wanted to get out of there and back to work, to contribute what he could towards the capture and conviction of whoever was running the 'press gang' out of The City, for some reason he didn't want to disturb his sleeping partner. He'd been able to sleep, deeply, through the night; he seemed to remember Steve being with him when they arrived at the hospital, straight from the Coast Guard Station, in the early hours of the previous morning.

But he also remembered briefly waking during the night to find the younger man gone. He had no idea when Steve had returned but he had obviously been back for quite awhile. He wouldn't be discharged for a couple of hours at least, he knew, so why not let the boy get some much deserved sleep until then.

With a warm smile, he closed his eyes once more, snuggling deeper under the blanket.

# # # # #

He woke with a start, for a split second the room reeling around him and with the nauseating sensation that he was falling. He slammed both feet firmly to the floor and grabbed the arms of the chair as he caught his balance.

A soft chuckle reached his ears and he looked up into Mike's grinning face.

"You having that dream about falling off a cliff again?"

"Ha ha," Steve said dryly, prying his hands off the chair, shaking his head and coughing lightly, trying to wake himself up. "How long have you been awake?"

"A coupla hours. I've just been lying here."

"You should've woken me."

Mike's smile widened. "You looked like you needed the sleep." He had managed to alert the nurses when they'd entered earlier to keep the noise down so Steve could continue to sleep; they were more than eager to accommodate the lieutenant's request when they set eyes on his handsome young partner.

Steve chuckled as he started to get up, catching his breath and wrapping his arm around his chest as he pushed himself to his feet. Mike's smile disappeared. "Hey, are you still in pain?"

Steve tried to smile the concern away, shaking his head, but his knitted brows told his partner otherwise. Mike sat up, pushing the heavy grey blanket away. "Buddy boy...?"

"I'm okay," Steve said quickly, raising a calming hand and stepping closer to the bed, "just stiff from sitting in that thing all night," he gestured with his head towards the chair. Mike was staring him up and down worriedly; it was a look he'd seen many times before. "How are you feeling?"

"Don't change the subject," Mike said gruffly, "you're not okay and I want you to see a doctor."

"I already saw a doctor a couple of days ago; they taped me up."

"Then why is it taking so long for you to start healing? You weren't this sore when we were on that… that hovercraft thing," he gestured ineffectually as he tried to find the right word, "yesterday."

Steve's eyebrows had risen slowly. "Then you spend a night in that chair," he nodded once more towards the offending piece of furniture, "and see if you get up without feeling stiff and sore."

They stared at each other for several long beats, Mike frowning and Steve smiling, then the younger man bent over and picked up an overnight bag, dropping it on the end of the bed. "Clothes," he said flatly, pointing at the bag, "and a few toiletries."

Mike glanced at the bag then back at the younger man. "You went to my place?"

"Unh-humh." Steve nodded.

"Thanks," Mike said simply as he reached for the bag, dragging it closer and opening the zipper. He smiled to himself; that's where he must have gone when he left last night, he thought. He began to pull out a blue-checked shirt and khaki pants, sneakers, socks, and underwear, and a Giants baseball cap and jacket. "Where's my electric razor?"

"What do you need your razor for?"

Mike looked at him from under a lowered brow. "What do you think I need - ?" He stopped himself abruptly and pointed at the younger man, his eyebrows snapping up. "You shaved! I thought there was something different about you but I couldn't figure it out."

Steve grinned and nodded, running a hand over the very short overnight stubble starting to appear on his chin.

"When did you do that?"

"Oh, ah…" Steve had forgotten about that little detail and suddenly had to come up with a logical explanation, "ah, when you were asleep late yesterday afternoon I, ah, I went out to grab a bite to eat and decided to pop into a barbershop just down street and… get rid of it." He shrugged noncommittally.

"Good," Mike said with a nod, "I'm glad. I like you better this way." He ran a hand over his own three-day stubble as he rooted around in the overnight bag again, getting out the toiletry bag and opening it, looking in. "Well, at least I can brush my teeth."

"Look, ah, why don't you start getting dressed and I'll tell the staff that you're chomping at the bit to get out of here."

Mike looked up and chuckled. "It's that obvious, is it?"

# # # # #

Mike suffered through the indignity of the wheelchair ride to the front door, the overnight bag and folded Coast Guard blanket on his lap. Steve had gone on ahead to get the car and was waiting for him just outside the hospital's front entrance.

Mike looked the blue LTD up and down as he opened the back door and tossed the bag and blanket on the back seat. "Why have you got this one?" he asked as he got in and slammed the door.

"Well, we're not exactly on duty, remember? I think Norm's using ours." Steve said as he shifted into Drive and stepped on the gas. From the corner of his eye he could see Mike staring at him but he had no idea why. He was sure he would find out soon enough.

He wound the car through the hospital grounds and out onto 22nd, turning left onto Potrero Avenue. Mike turned to him. "Where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home," Steve said, knowing that Mike actually lived close enough to the hospital that he could have walked.

"What for?"

Snapping on the turn signal, preparing to make the left turn onto 23rd and under the Bayshore Freeway into the Potrero Hill neighbourhood, Steve chuckled. "You just got out of the hospital; where else would I take you?"

"To the office," Mike said simply and the younger man looked at him, brow furrowing. "Steve, I just spend the better part of an entire day sleeping. The last thing I need to do right now is go home and lie down."

"But Mike –"

"I'm fine," the older man growled emphatically, "I want to go to the office. I'm sure there's a lot of work still to do, and I want to know what everybody found out yesterday and overnight."

When the younger man remained silent, Mike eyes narrowed and he tilted his head. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked pointedly, watching the young man very carefully for a tell. They knew each other too well, and when Steve's right hand tightened briefly on the steering wheel, Mike knew he had him.

"Pull over," Mike ordered quietly and Steve's head snapped around to look at him.

"Pull over," he said again, a little more emphatically, and the large dark blue LTD swung into the first empty space on 23rd near Rhode Island.

Steve shifted into Park then turned to look at his partner across the front seat, not sure exactly how much, if anything, Mike had figured out or if he was just going on a fishing expedition. He assumed the latter.

Mike gestured towards him with his chin. "How did that happen?"

"What?"

"The bruises and that small cut on the knuckles of your right hand. You didn't have that yesterday. What, you got into a tussle with the barber?" Mike smiled facetiously and Steve knew he'd been caught out. "You weren't in the hospital room all night, were you? And you didn't just sneak out for awhile to get some dinner and a shave, and drop by my house, did you?" Mike allowed the silence to settle over the car before he spoke again. "Where did you go?"

Steve cleared his throat, not sure just how much to tell his partner right now. It was a fine line he would be walking here; Mike wasn't just his partner and closest friend, he was also his superior officer.

He turned the car off.

"They, ah… Gary and Kyle decided to raid Coopers and the bodega next door yesterday, just after they opened."

"You weren't in on it, were you? Not all busted up like you are. Please tell me you weren't."

The older man's concern was genuine and a grateful warmth washed over him. Steve looked down and cleared his throat again. "Not officially. They, ah, they let me sit in a car a few blocks away."

"This car," Mike said flatly, continuing to stare at the younger man who fidgeted under the scrutinizing blue eyes.

"Yeah, this car."

Steve was usually not so reluctant to confide in him. Mike turned to look out the front window with a loud sigh. They sat in silence for several seconds then he turned back to the younger man.

"Listen, ah, I don't know about you but I'm pretty hungry. I'd like a cup of really good coffee and a couple of eggs sunny side up. What d'ya say?"

Steve looked at him but didn't say anything.

Mike pointed through the windshield. "There's a really good mom-and-pop place over in Dogpatch. What say I treat us to a good breakfast this morning?"

The younger man continued to stare at him silently and Mike waited, a warm, understanding smile curling his lips. Without a word, Steve faced the wheel again and turned the key.

As the engine roared to life, Mike chuckled, patting his jacket and pants pockets. "Hey, ah, buddy boy, you may have to spot me this morning. I don't seem to have my wallet with me."