A/N *Officer Steve Tyson is not mine, but the character of the episode 'Suspended'.

Chapter Two

The sun had long since set when Eliza stepped out onto the back porch of the MacDonald home. Mac was sitting on the newly purchased porch swing. He seemed to be a million miles away-until Eliza sat down beside him. "I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you when I got out of bed?" Mac hated the idea he might have done that.

"No, I hadn't fallen asleep yet." She then took a guess and asked, "Ed or Pete?"

Mac couldn't help but chuckle. Eliza did have a way of reading him like no one else could. He wrapped his arm around his wife, causing her to scoot closer to him. "Pete. He and Jim are two not only good policemen, they're among the best there is. I hope I've done the right thing. That is, pushing him to take some time off."

"But, if you hadn't, you were afraid there would be an all-out altercation between him and Ed." Eliza laid her head on her husband's shoulder. "And you are right. I'm sure, if you were to ask others, they'd tell you the same thing." Her eyebrows turned down slightly as she moved her head just enough to make it so she could look at her husband, without taking her head off his shoulder. "How did you get him to take time off?"

"I promised him a few things he didn't care for-things I promised not to repeat or threaten again. Though, the one thing I did not promise to keep quiet about was the fact that he would take a vacation or have *Officer Steve Tyson as his partner until Jim can work with him again." Mac wasn't surprised when his wife rolled her eyes.

"From what I hear, the short time he had him as a partner, about drove him up a wall." Eliza paused and then asked how long Pete would be gone.

"He has a two-week vacation waiting for him, told him to use it -and take another week if he needed it. All he had to do was call me." Mac told her before they changed topics, and then finally retired to bed for good.

~oOo~

Thanks to a traffic accident on the highway-one that included fatalities-Pete did not pull into his parents' driveway until close to one o'clock in the morning. He wasn't surprised when his mother appeared in the doorway. "I've been worried sick about you. You were supposed to be here hours ago."

"Sorry," Pete told her as he climbed out of his car and told her about the accident. "Traffic was either at a crawl or completely stopped." By the time he was finished, he was standing in the back bedroom his mother had led him to. It wasn't extremely large, only there was still ample room to move around. He didn't know that he cared for the dark brown paneled walls only it's not like he was moving in for good. He could tolerate them for a little while. The bed, nightstand and dresser looked rather brand new. He was surprised, but glad, to see a telephone placed on the nightstand.

"I cook breakfast for your father at six in the morning. However, I'll just put your food on a plate in the refrigerator. You just worry about getting some decent sleep." Mrs. Malloy told him before shutting the door behind him.

Picking up the phone, Pete called Jim-telling the Reeds the same thing he'd told his mother-when it came to why it had taken him so long to get to their home. Afterwards, he climbed into the bed-which turned out to be the most comfortable bed-other than his own-he'd ever slept in. In fact, it was so comfortable, he might have slept until noon had it not been for his troubling dreams. 'Guess Mac was more right than I wanted to admit.' Pete swung his legs over the bed. 'I do need some time away from my life in LA." Soon he was dressed and sitting in his parents' kitchen.

"How did you sleep?" his mother asked as she warmed up his food for him.

"I slept fine." Pete wasn't about to talk about the troubled dreams he'd had. His mother would only worry about him if he did. He looked out the dining room window. After Los Angeles, it felt as if he'd traveled to a whole other world. Instead of asphalt, concrete and one building after another, he saw dirt, trees and he could see one other house—and it was in the far distance.

"How many acres go with this place?" Pete looked at his mother, amazed she and his father had moved to the middle of nowhere-or so he thought.

"Ten," she smiled, "Your father wanted more only we can't afford it." His mother set his plate in front of him and then joined him at the table. "The house you see," she pointed to the house Pete had just been looking at. "It belongs to Andrew Mitchell and his wife." Laughter appeared in her eyes when Pete stared at her.

"Andrew? Are you kidding me?" Pete asked even as he could see his friend from high school. Andrew had sworn he'd never live in a place that had less than 50,000 people. "Since when did he move to Arizona...and to a place this deserted."

His mother laughed. "It's not deserted...it just looks that way. When it comes to Andrew, from what they say-he, his wife and children have been living here for the past ten years. I told him you were coming for a visit. He wants to see you."

"How big is his place?" Pete looked at the house in the distance once more.

"Hold onto your seat," his mother replied, "last time anyone heard, he had almost a thousand acres."

Pete's eyes widened. "A thousand! What did he go do, buy a ranch?"

His mother laughed and nodded. "That's exactly what he has, a horse ranch to boot."

Pete couldn't believe it. Ranch and horses were two words he'd never have put on any sort of list that was attached to Andrew Mitchell. He definitely had to go visit the man...but not before he spent a relaxing day with his parents.